#over the garden wall opening song

[voidwithtoomanygooglyeyes]

In honour of the up coming spooky season, here is the opening song to Over the Garden Wall

Led through the mist By the milk-light of moon All that was lost is revealed Our long bygone burdens Mere echoes of the spring But where have we come? And where shall we end? If dreams can't come true Then why not pretend?

How the gentle wind Beckons through the leaves As autumn colors fall Dancing in a swirl Of golden memories The loveliest lies of all

[humanpurposes]

August

Part 1: Possibilities and Peace Offerings

Your family has been invited to spend August at Dragonstone, where things get a little tense after an unfortunate first encounter with Aemond Targaryen, one he's determined to put right.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader // Modern AU

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

Warnings: 18+, nothing too bad here, eventual smut, slight enemies to lovers, mutual pining

Words: 7k

A/n: Summer romance is here!! hope you likeeee. This is going to be three parts in total.

The impending summer exists beyond time, beyond the rest of the world. Exams are over and you’ve already received a mark for your dissertation. The dorm room you called home for three years is packed up and returned to its prison-like appearance, just as it was when you were an eager and excitable fresher. Suddenly the world is an endless sea of possibilities and you’re standing on the water’s edge with nothing to lose.

You spend a few weeks with your friends, drinking in pub gardens and driving down to the rammed beaches along the coast near King’s Landing, but this summer of possibility takes an unexpected turn when your father receives an invitation to spend the month of August at Dragonstone, as a guest of Viserys Targaryen. Viserys and your father have been business partners for just under a decade, but to be welcomed into his inner circle, to the ancestral home of the Targaryen family, is another honour altogether. 

Your parents are beside themselves with excitement. You’re a little more sceptical but you won’t let them know it. So once your uni friends have gone back to their hometowns, you pack an array of swimsuits and summer dresses into a suitcase, and bundle into the backseat of your father’s car. 

The aircon is on full blast. You sip on the last of your water as an 80s playlist blares through your headphones to block out the conversation of investments, clients, lawsuits and legal fees from the front seats.

Dragonstone is three things; an island, a town, and a castle. You drive out of the city, red and grey buildings blurring into greenery and vast spaces of blue, the sky and the sea. A ferry takes you from the mainland to the island’s port. The song you were listening to fades away as you slip your headphones off your ears. The town is utterly charming, from the rows of fishing boats in the harbour to the cobbled streets and obscure little buildings, bookshops, bakeries and butchers. The sun shines brightly, heat pulses through the window even with the blast of cool air.

A few more miles and you reach a gatehouse, ancient stone walls smothered with ivy, guarded by two stone creatures with their jaws wide open— dragons with spikes and sharp teeth. The driveway is lined with thick trees and foliage. Suddenly you turn a corner and there it is, towers and turrets reaching up into the summer sky, hundreds of windows, more carvings of dragons looming proudly over where Blackwater Bay becomes the Narrow Sea. 

The man who greets you by the doors is not a Targaryen. He has dark hair, dark eyes, a crisp white shirt and a radio on his belt. Your father seems to know him already. He greets him as “Cole,” and introduces him to you and your mother.

Cole offers his hand to you. “Criston,” he insists, “I’m the head of Mr Targaryen’s security.”

Two identical butlers take your bags from the car while Criston shows you into the entrance hall. He comments on the antiques and the 14th century timbers, leading you through to the room he calls “the waiting chamber”. It has high ceilings, wood panelled walls, an enormous fireplace and aged but comfortable looking leather sofas at the edges of the room. You note the portraits on the walls, the more recent photographs on the mantle, but before you can get a proper look, someone announces their own arrival into the room.

Viserys Targaryen has his arms open, dressed far more casually than you’ve seen him at various galas and events, he even has a pair of aviators keeping his silver hair out of his face. He greets your father with a smile and a firm handshake, his eyes sharp but somewhat hollow. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he says, moving onto your mother and then to you. “We’re having drinks on the patio, enjoying the sun. Why don’t you join us?” He chuckles and you don’t really understand why. You’re not sure how any of this works.

Viserys leads you through the house, stopping by the great hall and the library, pointing out details like Criston did. His home is devoted to family and every furnishing carries some sentimental value. The curtains and the sofas in the library are Arryn blue for his first wife, the shelves are laden with books that belonged to his grandfather. There are items here which have belonged to the Targaryens for generations and their house’s sigil is carved into the walls and wooden beams. 

At last you come to a hall with tall windows, glass chandeliers and marble floors. Viserys calls this “the west gallery”, a more modern addition to the castle, built in the 17th century. He opens a double glass door and you can already see the sprawling green gardens, the unnatural blue of a swimming pool somewhere in the distance. Before all that is the raised patio, an array of chairs and the people sitting in them.

You step into the heat of the garden, into cigarette smoke and the sounds of laughter, loud and seemingly rehearsed. Your father knows most of these people, other associates of Targ Corp, Corlys Velaryon and his wife Rhaenys Tagraryen, Jason Lannister and his wife Joanna, Lyonel Strong and his son Larys. Even Otto Hightower is lounging back in his chair, sunglasses over his eyes, a pale pink cocktail in a crystal glass. 

Your parents smile graciously, your mother clutching her handbag over her shoulder, your father wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to air out the damp patches in his shirt. They’ll want to make a good impression. Each person staying at Dragonstone this summer is another opportunity for your father.

You glance down at your denim shorts and your sandals— an outfit for comfort, not for networking.

Viserys directs the three of you to a cushioned wooden bench and you squeeze in beside your mother. Another butler appears and offers you all a drink. Your parents both ask for a gin and tonic. You’re thinking that you’d like to dunk yourself in the pool, so you ask for a large glass of water. 

“With ice and lemon, miss?”

“Yeah, please, if you have it?”

Your mother nudges you with her elbow and whispers in your ear. “This is Dragonstone, if you want it they probably have it.”

“If I asked for the Prince of Pentos’ phone number, do you think they’d bring it out on a silver tray?” You return with a grin.

The minutes drag by. Lyonel Strong asks your father about his law practice. Corlys Velaryon and Jason Lannister enter a heated discussion about yachts. Otto Hightower mentions the name “Daemon” and the other voices go quiet. You take large gulps of your water, occasionally sharing silent looks with your mother.

The heat is sweltering. You feel your head pulsing, your skin becoming damp and you worry you may end up as a puddle on the patio if you don’t find a reason to escape soon.

The glass doors open and two women enter the garden, one with auburn hair, dressed in a floral dress and high heels. The other, younger, blonde hair cut into a fashionably short fringe, barefoot, dressed in denim shorts and baggy t-shirt, goes straight to Otto. She doesn’t look at anyone else. She stands behind Otto and leans down to wrap her arms around his neck. This must be Alicent Hightower and her daughter.

Alicent makes her rounds elegantly. She’s familiar with all the people present, except for the three of you, the outsiders, piled onto a single piece of garden furniture. Her eyes are wide and brown, her lips full and fallen slightly even when she smiles. She asks about the journey from King’s Landing, if you’ve had a chance to explore the town.

She asks you a lot of questions too, what you do, where you studied, what your plans are for the Autumn. And once she’s found out what she wants from you, she starts telling you everything about her children, unprompted.

“Helaena’s starting a PhD in a few weeks, staying in King’s Landing– King’s college, of course, not KLU, seven heavens. We didn’t want her to be too far away from home,” she says, looking back at her daughter and her father. “Etymology. Well, she’s always had a thing for insects, I could never understand it, but it’s easier to let her follow her interests, she’s that sort of girl.

“Now Aegon is like that too, he likes a lot of things, would be nice if he could be interested in something that makes him money. Oh well, he’s into the arts, fancies himself a photographer, directed a few plays at university– Oldtown. He wrote a screenplay, you must remind me to show you, it’s really quite clever. It’s about injustice or something like that.

“Daeron is at Oldtown too, at Citadel Boys. He’s the only child I sent to board, I just felt he might be happy with a bit of space from all of us. He wants to go to Oldtown like his brothers. His father wants him to do economics, but he’s very good at history.

“Aemond did history, but then he trained in accountancy. He’s worked all over, Oldtown, Storm’s End, Harrenhal, but he’s looking to stay in King’s Landing now–”

“Mum, you’ll bore her to tears,” Helaena says and it’s only now you notice that she’s moved to stand in front of you. 

Alicent frowns.

You stifle a smile and raise your brows hopefully.

“Do you know where you’re sleeping yet?” Helaena asks, looking at her mother.

“I’ve put her in the moat room,” Alicent says. She turns back to you, “I’m sorry, darling, you’re probably tired, aren’t you? Helaena can show you your room.”

You kiss your mother's cheek and agree to reconvene for dinner in the evening.

“Sorry about mum, she just jumps at the chance to talk about her kids,” Helaena says as you walk back through the west gallery.

“It’s sort of cute,” you say, staring up at the gold detailing on the ceiling. “Very informative.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she says with a wicked smile.

When Helaena laughs she scrunches up her eyes and her nose. She sways her arms by her sides as she walks and trails her fingertips on the walls. Unlike Criston or Viserys, she doesn’t have little anecdotes about any of the vases or paintings on display. She’s a juxtaposition of her family’s ancestral home, airy and lighthearted, earthy and inexplicably real.

“Your parents are probably in the west wing,” she explains as you come to a winding stairwell. “That’s where everyone else will be too. The moat room is on the other side of the house.”

You nod along, stealing glances out the windows, at the gardens, and from higher up, you can see the sea.

“Don’t be too disheartened though,” Helaena says, “that means you’re with us.”

She shows you your room first. It sits at the very corner of the castle with windows to the north and the east. The moat in question isn’t a moat, it’s more of a well kept ditch. By the rest of the house you were half expecting the room to be medieval, but to your surprise it’s bright, carpeted, sans priceless antiques and heirlooms. A queen-sized bed waits for you piled with pillows. 

“I’m down the hall, and the boys are in the next corridor,” Helaena explains. “If you smell something suspicious, it’s Aegon.”

She helps you unpack your suitcase, admiring your swimsuits and looking through the small collection of books you’ve brought to pass the time.

She shows you her room which is further down the corridor. It’s much larger than yours, far more personal. She has worn patterned rugs over the wooden floors, dark blue wallpaper and accents of gold everywhere, the mirror over her vanity, the handles on the drawers and the wardrobe. You’re most intrigued by the framed taxidermies on the walls, butterflies with the most beautiful wings you’ve ever seen, moths, beetles, even a scorpion.

You’re a little relieved when you see a cat curled up on her bed, with a thick white coat, brown ears. 

“Dreamfyre,” Helaena says, scooping the cat up in her arms. “She’s named after the Valryian god of prophecy and wisdom.”

You hold your hand out for Dreamfyre to sniff. She considers you for a moment, and runs her head against your fingers. “So can she tell me my future?” you ask.

Helaena stares at you. “Don’t be ridiculous, she’s a cat. Why, hoping for something in particular?”

“I like to see where life takes me,” you say.

After exchanging phone numbers and scrolling through each other’s Spotify playlists, Helaena tells you that she thinks the two of you are going to be friends.

Dinner is surprisingly more pleasant, where you all eat around a table on the patio. Being outside is far more bearable once the sun starts to set and a breeze sweeps in from the sea. You’re served white fish, potato salad coated in herbs which Alicent says she grows herself, summer vegetables, grilled courgettes, red and yellow peppers, sweet and tangy tomatoes, washed down with white wine.

You sit beside Helaena, opposite two of her brothers, Aegon and Daeron. Daeron is far taller than his older brother but his face is clearly younger. His pale blond hair is slightly overgrown, his nose a little pink and his skin freckled from being in the sun. “Aemond managed to beat me at tennis today,” he says.

Aegon rolls his eyes, far more concerned with scratching the ears of a golden labrador perched on the floor beside him.

You look to Helaena for an explanation.

“Daeron’s looking to go pro. Aemond can’t stand that he’s not the best at something.”

There’s an empty space at the head of the table, between Aegon and Helaena. You’ve yet to see any other evidence that the elusive middle brother exists.

“There’s a tennis court here?” You ask.

“Towards the water garden, you should be able to see it from the moat room.” Helaena says. “You should have a look.”

Dessert is pistachio ice-cream, then everyone starts to disperse. Aegon grabs a bottle of wine and he and Daeron traipse over to a firepit at the edge of the patio, followed by the labrador. Your parents follow Viserys and the others into the house. Corlys and Rhaenys linger at the table, staring up at the sky and taking long drags from their cigarettes.

You trail Helaena to a neatly kept kitchen. Some of the staff pass through, into a far larger back room with metal surfaces, where the real cooking is done. Criston sits at the kitchen island on a stool, eating a pasta salad from a glass bowl. Helaena pats his head as she passes him. He doesn’t seem surprised by it, perhaps it’s a common occurrence.

“Feel free to grab anything you want, by the way. There’s all sorts of snacks and stuff, and if you want more of something give Criston a shout,” Helaena says, picking out bags of chocolate buttons and sour sweets from a cupboard.

“That’s kind,” you say, twisting your fingers over each other in front of you. “I’m quite tired, I think I might just have a shower and go to bed.”

“Darling, it’s summer, you can do whatever you want,” Helaena says. “See you at breakfast, yeah?” She pulls you into a quick hug and disappears out into the garden.

Not wanting to linger when Criston’s phone starts to ring, you decide to brave it and find your way back to your bedroom. Aegon and Daeron seem like fun, maybe too much fun for tonight, you just need to sleep off the fatigue from the sun.

This place is far too big for you to feel settled just yet. It amazes you how everyone can navigate the castle so easily, it’s like a maze. Eventually you find your way back to the entrance hall. You think you might know the way to the east wing from here, but when you see the sky beyond the windows, lilac and orange, dotted with grey clouds and the first few stars of the evening, you want to make the most of the dying light. Maybe you could head towards the water garden and find the tennis court.

Your sandals crunch against the gravel which stretches out into paths leading in three directions. The central one leads to the driveway and the gatehouse. To the left is the gardens past the edge of the moat, and to the right is an outlook and a downhill path which disappears from sight, which you assume leads down to the sea. You can hear the waves in the distance.

The sunlight is fading fast. You cross your arms over yourself, shivering and regretting the lack of a cardigan. You tell yourself you might warm up with a bit of a walk.

You take a few paces down the path towards the gardens– a dog’s bark has your heart leaping out of your chest. It’s deep and loud, coming from behind you. Your head darts around. An enormous dog has emerged from the downhill path and is bounding towards you, covering ground quickly.

You keep your feet planted on the ground, out of fear

The dog, a great dane, stops before you— it truly is huge, its head would come up to your torso if you were close enough, and you don’t really want to find out– barking viciously. Its teeth flash, flecks of saliva dripping from its mouth.

“Back off! Come, Vhagar!”

You look back along the path. A man in a black t-shirt and black shorts is walking quickly towards you and the dog. He grabs it by its collar and yanks it back, fastening it on a leash.

His eyes dart up— eye, you realise. The right side is a bright blue, the left is clouded, framed by a scar slicing down from his brow to his cheek.

“Who are you?” He asks like an accusation.

You hesitate, your heart still racing in panic.

You say your first name, then your family name, at that the man tuts and raises himself to full height, keeping the great dane on a short leash. “Right. What are you doing out here?”

“Just… looking around.”

“Just looking around someone else’s house?”

Gods now you’re really starting to panic. He’s glaring at you as if it’s your fault his dog just made a break for you.

He huffs irritably through his nose. “Look, Vhagar’s not always friendly and especially not around strangers. Be careful, yeah?” 

Vhagar now seems content enough sitting by her owner’s side, wagging her tail and panting with her tongue out. Her grey coat is covered in sand, especially her paws and her nose.

“If your dog’s not always friendly why wasn’t she on a leash?” 

His face hardens. Frowning suits his sharp features and the intensity of his eye. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is my fucking house.”

That explains the blond hair, and you suppose now he has the same lanky look as Daeron and the same gauntness in his face as Aegon.

“Right, your dog could have just mauled me but thanks for the friendly reminder.” You turn towards the house and mutter loud enough for him to overhear, “prick.”

You can’t shake the frustration. Nothing takes the edge off, not the hot stream of water from the shower, the routine of your skincare or the feeling of sinking into an impossibly soft mattress. Dragonstone is perfect… and all you want to do is scream, just a little.

Breakfast is served in the morning room, next to the kitchen, according to the text you got from Helaena. You put a swimsuit on, a patterned one piece and pull on some shorts. Before you head downstairs you grab a pair of sunglasses, a bottle of suncream and a book, determined that your morning will be peaceful and idyllic.

People flitter into the morning room as they please. Helaena is still in her pyjamas, tucking into a bowl of yoghurt and fruit. Daeron comes in and starts eating toast off Alicent’s plate, having already run a casual 5k about the grounds.

The man from last night is hovering by a side table, placing sausages and bacon onto a small plate. He glances sideways at you as you enter. 

You keep your teeth pressed together as you reach for a plate and go for the platter of pastries, reaching for an almond croissant.

His elbow must be a few inches from yours. “Morning,” he mutters.

You were half expecting him to act like you don’t exist. “Morning,” you mumble back.

“Have you two already met?” Helaena asks loudly from the table.

“Briefly,” he says.

“And you didn’t actually tell me your name,” you say, adding some strawberries to your plate for good measure.

“The boy has no manners,” Daeron says in a mocking voice, earning him an exasperated chide from his mother. Helaena giggles to herself.

He faces you fully. “Aemond,” he says.

“Good for you,” you say, and go to take a seat beside Helaena.

“Tea or coffee?” she asks you, reaching towards the two silver pots in the middle of the table.

“Coffee, please.”

Helaena makes a shocked expression. “Blasphemy. I’m a tea girl.” 

As Helaena pours some coffee into a china cup, Aemond takes the free seat opposite you. Your heart races a little, infuriated at the sight of him, somewhat guilty that your time at Dragonstone has already soured and his entire family is there to see it.

You add just a dash of milk to your coffee. In the corner of your eye you see him watching you, fork hovering in front of his face. You muster the confidence to look up and he averts his eye.

After you’ve finished your breakfast you head out to the patio, down the stone steps and to the pool, settling on one of the lounge chairs. Helaena has gone back up to her room to change and bring you both down a towel.

You lather suncream on your limbs, face and neck, and open your book. This is a nice kind of heat, one that you’re more prepared for. You can almost feel it permeating your skin, breathing new life into your blood. 

You get a few moments of bliss until a silhouette appears beside you.

You raise your eyes from the page, over the edges of your sunglasses, staring ahead at the surface of the pool. You can smell a man’s aftershave, and you can tell he’s too tall to be Aegon.

Ice clinks against glass. He leans down to place something on the small table beside you. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

You don’t want to turn your head, that might be misinterpreted as you actually caring.

But then Aemond’s voice takes on a lighter tone and he says, “Are you reading Crime and Punishment?” 

You scrunch your brows in bewilderment as you look up at him.

His eye moves between your face and the book in your lap

“Yeah,” you say, shifting your legs and drawing your knees closer to your torso, “I’m finding it a bit boring to be honest.”

His lips are parted ever so slightly and you can see the tips of his teeth. “It’s one of my favourite books.”

“I think that might explain a lot,” you say.

The corner of his mouth flickers like he might smile. He holds it back. 

“What’s this?” You ask, looking down at the glass of iced coffee he’s placed on the table. 

“A peace offering,” Aemond says. “I really am sorry about yesterday evening. I just… panicked. Vhagar isn’t always good around people she doesn’t trust. She bit my nephew once actually.”

“Oh, not good.”

“It was years ago, and to be fair to her—” he doesn’t finish that sentence. He presses his lips together. “I just thought I should apologise to you.”

Even when apologising he sounds smug.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you say.

He hums, it’s cryptic and it throws you off a little. He looks at you like he has a secret, like he’s managed to spot something that you haven’t. 

You feel aware of yourself and now you can’t breathe without doing it consciously. You feel beads of sweat forming at the back of your neck, the warmth of your own skin with your thighs pressed together, the pulse in your chest, the restless feeling in your stomach. You’re worried you might do something stupid, but how could you? You’re only sitting in a swimsuit and sunglasses, while Aemond is doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s looking at you– studying you with a hint of excitement in his eye.

And after about a minute of this he says, “enjoy your morning,” turning and strolling towards the patio. 

You clench your jaw, determined that you won’t look back at him, but you listen to his footsteps as they move away. 

With each line you read, you can only think of Aemond pouring over every word and making this book his bible. You imagine his hands holding the cover, his fingertip dragging over the page, his lips parted in concentration. It feels intrusive, it feels too involved. You couldn’t possibly put this book down now.

Aemond is an understated presence amongst his own family. He often lurks in the library or in a corner of the sitting room with a book. He wanders the gardens with his headphones on. He takes Vhagar down to the beach every evening and some nights you steal glances of them from a window at the front of the house. He gets these headaches, something to do with the scar over his eye, and when he does he likes to retreat to his room. When he is around for dinner he sits at the head of the table, opposite his father but miles away from him. He’s not a big talker but when he does have something to add to the conversation he commandeers it. Everyone stops to listen when he speaks.

You like watching him, the way he fiddles with anything within his reach, how he strokes his fingertips over his hands, the edge of his jaw. You look for his microexpressions, the twitches of his brow and the quirk of his lips when he finds something amusing, and how at the mentions of sensitive subjects or certain names, his eye widens. 

He smirks when he sees you looking, you don’t mind that he knows that you are.

You don’t want to seek him out, but you don’t try to avoid him either. He’s always somewhere in your periphery, his hand brushing against yours at the dinner table, the smell of his Marlboros wafting from the patio when you’re sitting by the pool which makes you wonder if he’s watching you. In the evenings after dinner, you and the Targaryen siblings hang around the firepit late into the night. Helaena and Daeron talk about constellations and roast marshmallows, Aegon plucks on a guitar, and you and Aemond fall into a game of pretending like you’re not looking at each other. 

Some nights you sit across from him, your view distorted by the heat and the flames. Other nights he dares to sit beside you, close enough that his leg will rest against yours. He keeps his voice soft until you’re leaning in closer to catch every word he says, this insufferable man who bings you a coffee every morning and asks you about the books you read.

One night Aemond is sat beside you. Helaena sings along to Aegon’s guitar, Daeron drums his fingers against his legs, gazing in wonder at his siblings because moments like this are a rarity for him.

“Do you forgive me yet?” Aemond asks, his arm draped along the back of the bench you sit on. Maybe he can read your mind because you’ve been silently begging for him to come closer… closer…

Your senses are hazy, the smoke of the fire, the scent of cigarettes and aftershave lingering on Aemond’s shirt, the glasses of wine you had with dinner, the clear, cold night air piercing the backs of your arms. He notices you shivering and slips his arm around your shoulders, slowly, so you have a chance to tell him to stop. His heat is white hot. Your chest feels hollow and weightless.

Everything about him is hypnotising, the curve of his mouth, his self-assuredness, the look in his eye that’s gentle and intense all at once.

Your body feels heavy; you should probably go to bed soon. “Do you care if I forgive you?”

He frowns, less disappointed, more intrigued and lifts his hand to brush your hair from your neck, fingertips grazing over your skin. Your body stiffens in his wake, like electricity coursing through your shoulders, down your spine.

“I’d hate to have it hanging over my head,” he mutters.

You turn your head and now your faces are inches apart. His nose twitches as he breathes, you notice.

His palm comes to rest on your bare thigh, below the hem of your shorts. In the corner of your eye you see heads of silver hair glancing across the firepit. Aegon chuckles. You’re content to let the distractions fade away. “Keep bringing me coffees and I’ll consider it.”

The next day you’re laying on your bed, enjoying the cool of the early evening against your damp skin and hair after a shower. How you can be so exhausted after a day of reading by the pool makes you despair a little. It’s the heat, it messes with your brain.

The music through your headphones is interrupted by a notification.

Helaena Targaryen: Aemond said he’s off to walk the dogs if you want to join him.

You frown at the screen. Did he want Helaena to ask you? You specifically?

Surprisingly, you were getting on rather well with Aemond today, not enough for him to text you himself, or ask for your number for that matter. At the very least, things have been less hostile since your first encounter. You saw him at breakfast and he asked you how you were getting on with Crime and Punishment, if you had finally realised that it’s the best piece of literature put to the world (his words). You said you were not convinced, only because it was fun to argue about it with him. While you were sitting by the pool he came down in a pair of black trunks and no shirt, swam twenty laps in twenty minutes, then dried off in the lounge chair next to yours. Later, while Helaena was sitting with you, he appeared from the kitchen with two bowls of strawberries with the stems cut off. And then at lunch he sat between Aegon and Daeron, and hardly looked at you.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, painfully conscious that Helaena will be able to see that you’re typing.

Helaena Targaryen: I think it’s part of him ‘making amends’ with you.

Helaena Targaryen: He probably still feels bad about it.

Helaena Targaryen: Loser.

You smile to yourself and type out your reply: Yeah, why not. Where does he want me?

While Helaena starts to type you quickly pull on some shorts and a clean t-shirt. Your phone dings while you’re in front of the mirror, dabbing concealer under your eyes.

Helaena Targaryen: Front door. Five mins. Have fun :) 

It will probably take you five minutes to find your way down to the entrance hall anyway. You finish your face off with some blush on the apples of your cheeks and a thin amount of mascara on your lashes. There’s not much you can do about your wet hair, but other than that you’re mostly satisfied with yourself, so you pull on a pair of trainers, slip your phone into your back pocket and hurry through the corridors of Dragonstone.

He’s waiting for you in the entrance hall by the door, Vhagar, the great dane on one leash, Sunfyre, the golden labrador on another. He gives you a half smile as you approach them.

“Who am I walking?” you say.

“My girl stays with me,” he says, offering you Sunfyre’s leash, which you take, ruffling his ears.

“Vhagar is your girl then, is she?” you ask as Aemond leads you out the door and down the front steps, past the spot where she scared you half to death. The dogs are eager to storm ahead but Aemond keeps Vhagar on a tight lead, so you do the same.

“I suppose. We’ve had great danes forever, my father’s very fond of them. We got Vhagar when I was sixteen and well, we just like each other a lot I guess.” 

“What about Sunfyre?”

“He’s Aegon’s really, but mostly he stays at the Keep with mum and dad. Aegon doesn’t really stay in the same place long enough.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Yeah well, he does what he wants. This way,” Aemond says, nodding towards the downhill path to the beach. You’ve been down here with Helaena already, a winding gravel path lined with bushes and brambles down the cliff face. Vhagar plods along leisurely, Sunfyre can’t get down fast enough. When you stumble, Aemond steadies you, a large hand wrapped around your forearm. “He can run off now anyway,” he mutters, undoing the leash, and Sunfyre darts along the path in a golden flash.

Low in the sky, you see the sun dancing along the surface of the sea, waves rolling orange and blue into white foam as they meet the shore.

“What about you?”

Aemond looks at you with a brief look of bewilderment.

“Are you not doing what you want?”

He tries to conceal a frown, pouting his lips slightly. “Maybe I did for a bit, wound up working for Targ Corp, so I don’t see what difference any of it made.”

Once you reach the sand and Sunfyre is sniffing at some rocks along the base of the cliff, Aemond looks at you. “Are you alright if I take her off the leash?”

Vhagar looks pleadingly up at her owner, her tail thrumming against the ground.

“Yeah, of course,” you say.

“I just didn't know if you’d be comfortable after…”

“Oh,” you say, “thanks for considering it, but yes, it’s more than fine.”

Aemond grins as he undoes the clasp connecting the lead to Vhagar’s collar.

“What?” you ask.

“Does that mean you forgive me now?”

You fold your arms, your cheeks straining as you try to withhold the extent of your smile. “You do make a good coffee, I’ll give you that.”

Sunfyre and Vhagar entertain themselves, chasing each other, running to the edge of the water where the waves rush over the sand and retreat again. You and Aemond walk along the shore where the sand is damp and stable. Aemond says the tide will be coming in within the hour.

“So why work for Targ Corp if you don’t want to?” you ask him. 

Aemond contemplates this for a moment, making a low humming noise in his throat. “If I really didn’t want to, I wouldn't.”

“But if Aegon gets to do what he wants, why don’t you?”

He looks down at his shoes, white sneakers, and digs his hands into the pocket of his joggers. “I remember thinking when I finished my bachelor’s, there were lots of things I was good at.”

You make a teasing face.

“No, I just mean there’s lots of things I could have done. I thought about being a curator, or something, you know? I did my dissertation on that actually, how museums and exhibitions can distort the past as well as preserve it–” he interrupts himself with a short tut. “Sorry, I don’t need to bore you.”

Your eyes trail along the curve of his jaw and his chin in the fading light. The wind is gentle, whispering over the bare skin of your cheeks, your arms, your legs. The smell of sea salt lingers in your nose and on your tongue. “I’m not bored,” you say.

With a shy sort of smile he tells you more, how he used to spend hours in the museums in Oldtown, looking at exhibits on Dorne, Essos and Valyria, the papers he read, the cultural memory and the dissonance. “History and heritage, when you think about them, are inherently vague concepts,” he says, “because they’re all based on claims and narratives that are difficult to determine and if they are clear cut, they’re biased. So how do we find the truth? How do we know that what we’re claiming is the right story is actually accurate?” You find yourself watching the parts of him you usually do. He speaks with his hands, indicating and gesturing and moving them randomly when he’s trying to think of a word or explain himself. Occasionally he runs his fingers through his hair or rubs his chin. And his single eye is wide, looking up as he pieces together a thought, looking back to you so he knows you’re still listening. 

“But after all that, you went and trained to be an accountant?” you ask.

“You should have seen the look on my father’s face when I told him I wanted to do a masters in museum studies. So yeah, accounting it was.”

It makes you sad, but you don’t want to tell him that. The entire time you’ve been here you’ve never seen Aemond so animated, talking about something he seems to love.

“What about you? What are your big life plans?” he says.

“Anything but accounting.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.”

“I’ll do a masters eventually, but I want to work for a little bit. I’ll start applying for jobs when I’m home.”

“In King’s Landing?”

“Yeah.” You look back up at the dark stone of the cliff, the layers and straight lines, the tops of the castle’s turrets just visible from the shore. “Yeah, yeah I think there’s so much pressure to find something to do. I mean, I was trying to focus on my dissertation and my exams, and I kept having these weird moments where I’d think, what’s the point? I don’t have a job ready to go. I don’t have a place on a masters course. I don’t have any plans to travel or volunteer at an orphanage in Meereen. It was like there was a timer going off in my brain and if I didn’t make something of my life before my exams were over, well it was all going to be a waste.” Now you’re the one moving your hands mindlessly, and you don’t know why but saying it all out loud makes you nervous. “Sometimes I feel like I’m running out of time.”

You look back at Aemond and realise you’ve stopped walking. Somewhere along the beach the dogs bark and splash in the shallowest part of the water. Aemond is watching you. He still has his hands in his pockets, his lips curled into a vague smile. “You have plenty of time, don’t worry,” he says. 

It suddenly strikes you what Alicent had mentioned, about him moving back to King’s Landing.

Without stepping away from him you take a mental note of him, your eyes glancing up and down. You want to remember his silhouette, his posture and how he stands, the way he angles his chin, the way he likes to hold his hands behind his back, the joggers and the shape of his torso though his t-shirt. You think you could recognise him at a brief glance, a single body in a crowded city. You think you’d find him.

Aemond meets your eye and raises his brow. 

You smile slightly to fein innocent interest. “We’ll be neighbours, we might see each other wandering around the city.”

But you realise you’ve made a mistake. His amusement starts to fade from his face, his shoulders stiffening. He turns and puts his middle finger and thumb in his mouth to whistle the dogs. They both freeze and bound back towards you. “Tide will be coming in soon,” he says to you.

He has Vhagar and Sunfyre on their leads again. By the time you come back to the path on the cliff the sky is a dull shade of dark blue. The castle looms in darkness and the light comes from within, golden through all of its windows.

“I’m sorry if I was a bit of a downer,” you say.

“You’re fine,” Aemond says. Your steps sound in perfect time along the gravel, up to the front steps. Vhagar and Sunfyre huff and pant, pulling on their leads and eager for a rest.

You reach the door and Aemond opens it. Down the hall one of the butlers is waiting to take the dogs.

“It’s just, I thought we were getting on.”

“We are,” Aemond mutters. “Do you think we are?”

It’s hard to tell with Aemond. He’s polite when he needs to be, easily irritated around his siblings. He’s so calm and composed, but you can see it in his eye when he’s thinking– you just don’t know what. But then there are moments like this, when you think you’ve scratched the surface, when his gaze lingers on you and his eye is soft but intent. When he brings you a coffee in the morning, when he tells you about his favourite book and the things he wishes he’d done with his life.

You’re standing in the entrance hall. Dragonstone is alive, filled with people and distant sounds. Beyond the ancient walls the wind picks up and the tide is coming in. If you took one step closer to Aemond, your navel would be pressed against his.

“I want us to get on,” you say.

“Me too.”

“And I thought we were getting somewhere.”

“Maybe we are,” he says. “I liked this, you’re a good listener.”

“I don’t get that a lot.”

“Do you not?”

“Well I suppose it helps if the person speaking has something interesting to say.”

“Oh,” he says with a little nod, “I thought you were going to say you just liked me that much.”

“That helps too.”

No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates <3

[fraugwinska]

Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?

Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ

Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

In Sickness and in Health

Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.

He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.

He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.

„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.

„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.

„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“

The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.

„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“

Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.

„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“

Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.

„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.

He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.

He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.

„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.

He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.

„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.

„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.

„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“

„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.

„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“

She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.

Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.

He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.

“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.

Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.

“Of course my treasured girl.”

He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.

The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.

Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Seven

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

1.5K

Warnings: smut, blowjob, face fucking, cum swallowing

Series Masterlist

The ceremony was lovely. The church was beautiful, the bride was beautiful, everything was beautiful. Lando walked his sister down the isle. At the alter, Lando's sister tried to keep a hold of him, but he pulled away, coming to sit beside his date.

Lando grabbed her hand. She looked away from the ceremony for one second, making sure he was okay.

He wasn't okay, but she couldn't tell. Lando was stoic, his face unmoving but for the tick in his jaw. She tightened her grip on him and he squeezed her hand in return. This was killing Lando, and he couldn't tell her.

If it was up to Lando, they would have been out of there the moment they said their 'I do's'. But, for his sisters sake, he had to stay. He had to go to the wedding reception, to make sure she was okay, to ask Oscar to look after her when he went back to England.

"Are you okay?" Asked Y/N as they walked out of the church. She hadn't been able to stop looking at Lando through the ceremony, hadn't been unable to notice the way he wasn't smiling.

Lando sucked in a breath and turned his attention towards her, finally wearing a smile. But his smile didn't reach his eyes. He kissed the top of her head and led her to the car that would take them back to the house. He owed her an explanation, he knew, but that wasn't a job for today.

Lando tried to make the most of the wedding reception. He danced with his sister, made sure she would be okay and that he didn't have to threaten to murder her now husband. He got her something to drink, made sure she was never alone.

When the wedding began winding down and the songs got slower, Lando danced with his girlfriend. He held her close, his hand in hers, his other hand on his waist. "This has been so lovely," she whispered as she laid her head on his chest.

Lando hummed. He couldn't tell her the truth, that his sister wasn't marrying for love, and it was unlikely she'd be happy. "We should get going," he whispered. "Gotta head home pretty early."

She looked around at the empty garden and nodded. They were two of the last people left and, suddenly, it felt as though they were overstaying their welcome.

Hand in hand, Lando pulled Y/N over to his sister. He said a long goodbye, pulling her close and whispering what Y/N could only assume were words of congratulations. But, actually, Lando was threatening her new husband. She tried not to sob as she said goodbye to her brother.

Lando slipped his hand into Y/N's and pulled her out of the house. "I didn't get a chance to speak to Oscar," he muttered more to himself as he pulled open the car door for her.

"Who's Oscar?" She asked as he slipped into the seat beside her and the driver took them to the hotel.

Lando spent the short drive back to the hotel telling her all about Oscar. There wasn't much he could say without spilling everything to her. She listened, leaning against him, holding onto one of his arms.

At the hotel, Lando held open the car door for her. He held her hand as they walked through the hobby, heading into the elevator.

As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Lando's lips were on hers. He held her softly, gently as he pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against him.

His hands moved from her waist, travelling back towards her ass. "I want you," he whispered against her lips as he pushed her against the wall of the elevator.

When it came to a stop and the doors opened again, they pulled away from each other. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the elevator, running down the hall to the room that they shared.

Lando was a brilliant multitasker. He kept her pressed against the door to their hotel room, his lips against hers as he fished through his wallet, searching for their key card. He grabbed it and pushed it into the door, opening it in one beat.

"Lan," she whined as he pushed her backwards.

They were oh so close to the bed, the two of them stumbling onto the comforter. But they were quick to adjust themselves, Lando's body on top of hers, holding her in place.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling at her curls." Lan," she called again, tugging at his curls slightly to pull him away. He let out a groan, his eyes shutting as he moved away. "Are you okay?"

It was a question he didn't want to answer. He went to dip his head towards her again, but she moved her head to the side. "Talk to me."

Letting out a sigh, Lando sat up. He rolled off of her and loosened his tie. "I hate this," he mumbled, sitting against the headboard. "I've spent my entire life trying to protect her, and I've handed her off to some asshole."

She sat up with him, moving back against the headboard. She placed her hand on top of his, urging him to continue. "I just, I feel like I've let her down. If I could, I'd go back to that house, get her and bring her home." But he couldn't, not without putting so many people at risk. Now that the Sainz family knew of Y/N's existence, it would be putting her in danger, too.

This was the point where she realised that she had no idea what was going on. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around one of Lando's. "She's got your friend Oscar with her, right?" Lando nodded his head. "Well, if she's unhappy, I'm sure she or Oscar would call you to come get her."

Lando kissed the top of her head. She didn't realise just how right she was.

Using all of his strength, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her again. It was slow and sweet and oh so full of emotion. When Lando pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you," he whispered. "You're wonderful."

He kissed her again, and she kissed him back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers in his hair as she moved against him, hips grinding against his.

Lando grabbed her hips, helping her to move against him. "Fuck," he groaned against her lips. When she tugged at his hair he moaned, but she quickly moved his fingers down to his shirt, unbuttoning it.

When she pushed his shirt off of his body, she couldn't stop herself from kissing down his chest and leaving marks.

She got down to his trousers, and Lando pulled her back up. "You don't have to do this."

"Yeah," she replied. "I don't. But I want to, Lan. Do you want me to?"

He swallowed as he nodded. She kissed him once before unbuttoning his trousers. She pushed his trousers down his legs and Lando stepped out of them, leaving him in just his boxers.

Again, he grabbed her, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it. "I don't want you to do this if its just to make me feel better."

"Lando, I promise you, I want to do this," she said, reassuring him again.

She gently pulled herself away from him and dropped her to knees in front of him. Lando watched as she pulled his boxers down, letting him spring free.

She sucked in a breath. "'S pretty," she whispered, and Lando couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped his lips.

"I don't think anybody has ever called my dick pretty before."

"Everyone you've ever fucked must've been blind, then," she quickly retorted as she wrapped her fingers around him.

Lando couldn't get out a response. He choked when she began moving her hand up and down his shaft.

Before Lando knew it, she brought him into her mouth. She gently sucked the tip before taking him all the way into her mouth.

"Fuck!" Lando cried. His hips jutted forward and he knotted his fingers in her hair, stilling her. "Let me know if you want me to stop," he said. Still holding him in her mouth, she nodded.

Lando began. His hips were slow at first, gentle. But soon his eyes were shut and he was full on fucking her face. Drool ran down her chin as he used her mouth. And she loved every second of it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered as he began to slow. His grip on her hair loosened and he went to pull away, but she kept going. "Wait, fuck, I'm gonna-"

And then he did. He came in her mouth and she happily swallowed it down.

Still on her knees she pulled away from him and blinked up at him. "You got a condom?" She asked and Lando shook his head. "Shit," she whispered and shook her head. "Well, we'll just have to have another kind of fun."

She stood up, pushed Lando onto the bed and climbed on top of him.

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[starsinthesky5]

nothing's gonna hurt you baby || joe burrow x reader

description: the first game of the season doesn't go as planned and it kills you to see joe like this. you can't help but feel deja vu...

a/n: ahem, is this thing on 🎤🎤.  i'm backkkkk… after a much-needed tiny break (not planned just life getting in the way). this is a little something i cooked up! still working on "taste" which is a slow work in progress but that's the main next fic that'll be coming soon!

as always, thanks for reading & showing love :)))) i hope this wasn’t too much yapping and nonsense lol. the smut isnt my best because i wrote it while i was half asleep but i hope you enjoy it. there’s also plenty of song references throughout the fic (biggest one and the inspiration being this CAS song)

warnings: angst, fluff, smut. that's literally the whole fic :)

word count: 12.2 k

---------------------------------------------------------

You leaned back against the wall across from the entrance to the locker rooms, anxiously picking at a thumbnail on your finger as you waited for your boyfriend to come out so you two could go home. You were standing in your orange halter crop top with a little '9' embroidered on the bottom left side and matching white jean shorts with the same '9' embroidered in orange on the back right pocket. The '9' on your shorts was a little bigger than the one on your top which Joe loved because according to him ‘everyone knows who your ass belongs to’. His adorable possessive nature was always something you admired and appreciated. He was very secure in your relationship and knew nobody would take you from him, but that didn't stop him from ensuring everyone knew you were his at any chance he got. 

You were also wearing orange stiletto knee-high boots which adds to the overall orange vibe of your game-day outfit. The theme was 'open in orange' so you were wearing as much orange as you could possibly make look cute. Your '9' necklace was the only piece of jewelry you had around your neck, and your wrists were decked out with bracelets given to you by Joe–each one even more polished and expensive than the previous one, and various rings on your fingers. Your favorite one, the beautiful promise ring Joe gave you for your 2nd anniversary, shined brighter than any of the jewelry you had on. It was a ‘secret garden’ inspired ring, one of your favorite books of all time, and also the reason you and Joe met back in college. 

There was a growing pit in your stomach as you stood there gazing at the large ‘B’ on the wall outside the locker room, a slow-burning sensation that started about two minutes into the game, and it was only getting bigger as the minutes passed by. By the end of the game, you were the most on edge you had ever been in your entire life. 

Since this was Joe's first real game back after his wrist injury, your anxiety was already pretty bad by the time you got to the stadium. Your brain was swarmed with 'what-if?' scenarios and it was eating you alive. Joe, however, seemed the exact opposite of you. He was completely calm, normal, and focused like this was any other game. His peaceful temperament wasn't surprising since he had always been like this before every game but it also should've been expected since he worked through most of his emotions with you the night before and didn’t have anything left to get out. You on the other hand did a complete 360; you were so calm with him last night but right now you were on the verge of ripping your eyelashes out. 

Flashback to the night before

You reached over to grab your glass of water, taking a big sip to help wash down the spicy chicken you were eating for dinner. You looked up at Joe as you were swallowing your water, noting how he was playing around with his food on his unusually full plate. You had been eating for almost 15 minutes and by now, his plate should be empty given how much of an animal he was once dinner rolled around. 

“Not hungry?” you broke the unusual silence and asked. 

Joe's eyes glanced up to meet yours, his cheeks burning because you took note of his behavior, which you weren't supposed to. “Uhh, not really,”  he sighed as he placed his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his sweaty hands sliding up and down his thighs out of nervousness. 

“You do know you have a game tomorrow, right?” you chuckled as you placed your fork down and leaned back in your chair like he was. “You need all the protein you can get,”.

“...Y- yeah, I know,” Joe mumbled after a few seconds of uneasy silence. 

You instantly noticed the change in his body language at the mention of the game; the way his eyes fell down to his lap after his mumbling response, the way he started bouncing his left leg, his shoulders tensing up a little bit, the way he was constantly doing something with his hands as if he was uncomfortable, the way he was chewing at his bottom lip. These were all things Joe did when he was feeling anxious. 

But why was he anxious?

“Hey, you okay?” you asked while leaning forward again, his body language making you worry.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he swallowed, still not meeting your eyes. He knew all it took was for you to get one look at his eyes to figure out he was lying and he really didn't want to burden you with his complicated emotions tonight. 

“He’s lying,” you thought to yourself. The fact that he was avoiding eye contact with you was a dead giveaway. “Joe?” you said while lowering your head to get into his view. 

“Yeah?” he said, his voice slightly trembling as he finally looked into your eyes. 

“Why are you lying to me?” you said as your face dropped at the sight of his tired eyes and shaky voice. 

“I’m not ly-,” he began to say before you interrupted him.

“Yeah, you are,” you interrupted. “I know you, remember. I know you better than you know yourself,” you softly laughed. 

You weren’t wrong there, you did know Joe better than he knew himself and he was the first one to admit it. You knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how to put his feelings into words even when he couldn’t do so himself, and exactly how to handle him. There was a reason why you were the only person he let into the bubble that he had around himself once football started back up. You were his shelter in the hurricane that became his life once he was back on the field and without you, Joe would be a mess. 

Your response earned no reaction from Joe, he just sat there in silence and continued to bounce his leg up and down as he started to play with the wristbands on his wrist, yet another anxiety-related mannerism. 

You let out a tired breath, “I’m not doing this, I can’t have him shut me out again,” you thought to yourself before scooting your chair back, walking around the dining table, and sitting down on the seat next to him. You turned your chair to face him and grabbed his hands, feeling the thin layer of sweat that coated his palms which made your heart hurt. 

“Joe, it’s just us right now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, talk to me,” you said while giving his hands a soft squeeze. You were feeling deja vu right now, you found yourself in the same situation you found yourself in many times over the early months of the off-season, only then it was 10 times worse than it was right now. 

Joe looked into your eyes, his body feeling heavy as self-doubt, anxiety, and fear crept into his mind. He was nervous about tomorrow’s game. Joe had never been nervous about a game like this and you were sitting in front of him, trying to get him to talk which you shouldn’t need to ‘try’ to do, he should be openly talking to you right now about his feelings. He always let you into the bubble, so why was it so hard for him to do it right now?

He realized that he was shutting down again, just like he had when he first got injured back in November. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, especially since coming out of it was a struggle that affected you both very badly. “I’m scared,” he choked out a few seconds later, trying his best to push through the wall he was unknowingly building again.

“Why?” you quietly asked as you felt your heart shatter because of the tone of his voice. You hated seeing him like this, it broke your heart to see him like this. You moved your hand up to cup his neck, the pads of your fingers were softly rubbing his tan skin which was a gentle action that you knew would calm him down. 

“It’s my first game back from injury. An injury that could’ve easily ended my career. It should’ve ended my career,” he said while lifting his hand to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

“But it didn’t,” you smiled. “It didn’t end your career then and it won’t end your career now,”.

“How do you know that? I haven’t played in a real game since November. I haven’t gotten hit yet, I haven’t gotten sacked yet, and I haven’t been putting that much pressure on my hand. Tomorrow could easily be the last game of my career. Just one wrong move and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted. “You’re not doing that. Not on my watch,” you sternly said, trying to prevent him from getting too far inside his head about everything. Overthinking was his worst enemy.

“I’m being realistic, Y/N. Who knows if I’ll be the same Joe I was before,” he said while blinking away a few tears. 

“You don’t need to be the same Joe you were before,” you soothed while continuing to rub his neck. “What you went through was unlike anything anyone has seen before, if people are expecting you to get right back to where you left off then they have no heart or brains. You’ll get to where you need to be, I promise. Things like this take time,” you added. “The Joe you are now is more than enough. You have grown in many ways that you might not have been able to unless you went through what you went through after November. You’ve worked on yourself and become more open, honest, and loose. You’ve put in the work on the field, in the weight room, in training, and even at home. You’re coming out of this a better person and a better player. A better Joe,”. 

“I just don’t want to let anyone down. What if we lose tomorrow? With the slow start narrative getting louder and the aftermath of my wrist injury, this could be really fucked. This year is so important and I just don’t want to let anyone down; the organization, the team, the public, you,” he continued, his grip on your other hand becoming tighter. “I know I have a chip on my shoulder and have a lot to prove this year, but the thought of people not seeing that is killing me,”.

“You won’t let anyone down, Joe. And you could never ever fucking let me down, never say that again,” you said as you continued to rub his neck, seeing that he was getting more loose from your touch. “You’ve worked so so hard the past 10 months to get back to where you want to be and everyone and I mean everyone has seen that. I’ve seen that. Adversity always makes you better, it ignites that fire inside of you. That fire makes you who you are,” you said to him, feeling a little more comfortable yourself after seeing his body relax a bit. “Remember who you are. You’re Joe Burrow. Heisman winner, College Football National Champion, the first overall draft pick, one of the Top 5 quarterbacks in the league, one of the highest-paid quarterbacks, Ohio’s golden boy. You’re all of those things for a reason, Joe. You have it in you. You don’t need to be afraid or doubt yourself because you did all of those things, nobody else, just you,”. 

You moved your hand over and wiped the tears that slowly were sliding down his cheeks before feeling Joe grab your hand and press a wet kiss to your palm. “I love you,” he sniffled. “I genuinely don’t know what I would do without you,”.

“I love you too,” you smiled before you leaned up to kiss his forehead. “Tomorrow is unpredictable, I will admit. But you control the narrative. You control what happens and what doesn’t happen out there. It’s just you and the football like it always has been. I know you and I know you’re going to kill it,”. 

Joe gave you a small nod as he let your words sit inside of his head; you were right and he knew you were right. He did all of this himself, he single-handedly built his reputation and although there was an immense amount of pressure on him to maintain it, he knew that it was his reputation. He had control over his story, not anyone else. He didn’t need to work at anyone else’s speed except for his own. He knows the narrative that the media has been running with since November, that his career has been hindered by continuous injuries and he’s ’injury prone’. He knows what that title has done to the public's opinion on his career and rank as a player, but they don’t get to define him based on what they think. He is defined by everything he does himself. 

It’s not their story, it’s his. 

He reached out and placed his hand on your waist, gently pulling you from your chair and into his lap. You instantly looped your arms around his neck and pushed his head to the crook of your neck, this warm hug from you was the final thing he needed to fully calm his nerves. “You always know what to say to me,” he mumbled against your collarbone as you ran your fingers through his slightly grown-out frosted tips, his hands softly massaging your plush skin. 

“It’s my job,” you chuckled. “I signed up for this when I met you in English class all those years ago and I plan on staying true to what I signed up for as long as I can,” you added before you dropped a kiss on his cheek, your mind calming down once you felt him relax against you.

“You better plan on it. I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he said as he pulled you in tighter. 

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t want to go anywhere,” you giggled in his ear before pressing a kiss to it, then turning back to serious to finish off your little pep-talk. “I’m so proud of you, Joe. More than you’ll ever know. You’re truly the hardest working man I’ve ever met and you continue to amaze me with your dedication and determination every single day. Never think that you’re not good enough and you’re not who everyone thinks you are. You’re Joe Fucking Burrow. Never forget that,”. 

“I won’t,” he sighed contently, finally at peace. “I won’t forget,” he said again before he pulled you closer and closed his eyes, getting lost in your palliative embrace. 

End of flashback 

You were so calm last night and now you were the complete opposite; you couldn’t figure out where and when things went south with your emotions. During the game, your brain was running a mile a minute as you thought of everything that could go wrong: Joe re-aggravating his injury, someone else on the team getting badly injured, and the team not being able to beat the slow start narrative. You were anxious, nervous, and deeply scared once the first quarter of the game started, and your feelings were validated when two minutes into the game Joe got sacked and fumbled the ball. 

You remember your heart stopping once you saw him go down as this was the first time he had been hit since November. 

“No!” you screamed as you shot up from your seat, your hand gripping the necklace around your neck as you looked down on the field and saw a bunch of large behemoths on top of him. “No, No, No,” you panicked as your breaths got shorter, your anxiety getting worse and worse as you saw flashbacks from the Ravens game in November. “Please be okay,” you thought to yourself as you were on the verge of tears. 

Then you remember your heart dropping to your feet once you saw the ball come loose and even though he recovered it, this whole play left a bitter taste in your mouth since it was literally the first few minutes of the game and things were already not going as planned. Luckily, his going down didn’t seem to affect his wrist, but you could only imagine how it affected him mentally. 

You thought that would’ve been the only sack of the game, but once again you were wrong. Each time Joe went down, you felt your heart stop. Each time he ran, your heart stopped again as you got flashbacks from early last year with his calf injury. Each time the camera panned to the sidelines and focused in on him, you felt like crying because you could tell the way the game was going was eating away at him by his facial expressions. 

Every sack, every fumble, every drive that ended without scoring, and every turnover was killing you because the things Joe feared were happening even though you told him they wouldn’t. Seeing him flex his wrist on the sidelines and in between plays was the one thing that really did it for you. You didn’t know if this was just to keep his hand loose because he was feeling some tightness or whether this was because something was actually bothering him, your brain was in panic mode for the rest of the game. 

“I hope he’s okay, that was ugly,” you thought to yourself before you jumped at the sound of the locker room door swinging open and snapping you out of your daze. 

You watched as Joe walked out of the locker room, his eyes exhausted and defeated as he gave you a small ‘reassuring’ smile, however, it wasn’t very reassuring because his eyes gave his true feelings away in an instant. 

You returned his smile with a smile of your own, opening your mouth to ask him if he was okay but before you could he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on your lips. He held it for a few moments as he melted into your touch which was the only relieving feeling he had felt all day before pulling away, entwining your pinkies, and leading you out to the car. 

“That’s not good, he’s never this quiet when I come to meet him after the game,” you thought to yourself. If you didn’t say something first, he almost always did, but he wasn’t saying anything which was concerning. You stayed quiet as he led you out to the garage, your eyes not leaving his weary face for one second. You could tell he wasn’t okay, you could tell he was beating himself up over today’s loss.  

A few moments later, he led you over to the passenger’s side of the car, an unusual move since you always drove the both of you home after a game. “I thought I was driving,” you gently said as you looked up at him. 

“I got it,” he said with no emotion in his voice, dropping your pinky and looking into your eyes with his now cold and emotionless ones. 

“But Joe I-,” you began to say but before you could finish your sentence he turned around and walked to the other side of the car. 

“He definitely heard me,” you thought to yourself as you watched him open the backseat door and roughly throw his bag in, then slammed the door shut with a little more force than usual which startled you. 

You let out a deep breath before opening your door and sliding into the passenger seat, your body stiff and frozen because of the way he was acting. You were scared to say something, scared to do something because you didn’t know what reaction you’d get from him, “He’s not doing this again, right?” you worried. 

10 minutes into the drive home, you started getting agitated. He had yet to say anything to you, not even asking you if you were cold and if he should turn down the AC which he always asked you whenever you were in the car since he knew you got cold easily. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were practically turning white and his eyes were so locked in on the road in front of you that he hadn’t even noticed that you started shivering a little bit. 

“Are you okay?” you finally broke the tension and asked, your bottom lip in between your teeth out of nervousness. Joe rarely ever raised his voice at you or got irritated by you saying something to him, but that didn’t stop you from getting nervous around him whenever he was acting like this. 

You saw his jaw clench for a brief moment, your heart skipping a beat as you braced yourself for a potentially explosive reaction, but then you saw him unclench it. “I’m fine,” he said, once again with no emotion in his voice. 

You gave him a small nod and then a few seconds later asked another question since he wasn’t budging, “How’s your wrist?”.

He let out a sigh, one that you could hear from his nose so it was definitely coming from a tired place, “It’s fine,” he said again, not giving you much to work with. 

“He’s not fine, lying yet again. Maybe I could make him laugh? I need to do something to get him to loosen up” you thought to yourself, your brain scrambling to think of something to make him laugh even if it was for a brief moment. 

“At least you guys scored a touchdown this time,” you smiled a few seconds later. “Even though you didn’t win the game, I’d say it was better than week 1 last year against the browns,”. 

You studied his face carefully after you finished your sentence, searching for any tiny muscle movement that resulted in his lips curling up into a smile, but nothing. “Yeah,” he nodded, once again with no emotion. He then reached over to the center console, turning the knob for the volume up so that the once softly playing music was blasting throughout the car. 

You felt your lip quiver and your eyes started to pool with tears as you continued to look at him, praying that he would look at you for even one brief moment, but he didn’t. “He’s doing it again,” you thought to yourself as you fell back into your seat. “He’s fucking doing it again. Just like he did after he got injured. He’s shutting me out,” you thought as you felt a tear slide down your cheek, your head turning away so that you were looking out the window so if Joe did happen to look over at you, he wouldn’t notice your silent tears. 

Joe did look over at you. He was waiting for you to stop looking at him because he couldn’t look into your eyes right now, not when his brain was all over the place and he could regret the things that potentially came out of his mouth. He looked over at you when he saw you turn your head to the window from the corner of his eyes, his eyes softening when he saw your body shaking. You were cold. He always asks you if you’re cold, and this time he didn’t. 

“I fuck everything up,” he muttered under his breath as he reached over to turn the AC down. 

30 minutes later

After a car ride filled with deafening silence, you made it back home a half hour later and were pouring two glasses of water for you and Joe. He was sitting at the kitchen island behind you scrolling on his phone, still quiet as ever. You grabbed his glass and placed it in front of him, getting a peek at what he was looking at on his phone. 

Media reactions. 

Joe never looked at what the internet was saying about a game after it happened, it was one of his ‘blocking outside noise’ methods, so why was he looking at them? 

“You really shouldn’t be looking at all that bullshit,” you said to him as you took a small sip of your water, the cool liquid feeling like a quiet unraveling of tightness within your body.

Joe was so focused on his phone that he didn’t notice that you were talking to him, the only things that he could hear were the voices of reporters talking about the team’s constant slow starts, his poor performance–saying that he played scared, rusty, and didn’t look like himself and that this team is constantly setting itself up for failure. 

A video came up on his phone, an analyst was talking about his performance in today’s game, “We have to talk about Joe Burrow. He said he was ready, he said he felt great, and he said that this team was ready. But did that Cincinnati Bengals team that played against the Patriots today look ready? Absolutely not. Did the Joe Burrow who stepped out onto that field look ready? Absolutely Not. He looked scared, he didn’t look like himself. The lack of Deep Balls, the lack of throwing down the field. That’s not the Joe Burrow we’ve seen in years past. What’s truly going on in Cincinnati? Is there a deeper issue within that we aren’t seeing?”. 

“They see right through me,” Joe thought to himself, feeling his eyes sting from the hot tears that were threatening to come out. He felt like the room was on fire, and there was invisible smoke. Nobody could really see what he was going through, all they saw was the burning room. 

You felt your heart drop as you heard the reporter talk about Joe’s performance in today’s game, knowing that Joe was probably already criticizing himself and this was going to make it worse. “Joe?” you said a little louder, snapping him out of the dark haze he was stuck in.

“Hm?” he hummed as he looked up at you, noticing your pursed lips and worried eyes. 

“Are you okay?” you asked again, feeling uneasy from the look he had on his face.

“...I said I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a little rougher than earlier. 

You shook your head, “I know you’re not fine. Stop lying to me,” you said with a more rigid tone. 

“I’m not lying to you. I said I’m fine. I don’t think it could be more simpler than that,” he rolled his eyes as he picked up his glass of water, taking a big sip. 

“If you are really ‘fine’,” you say, making air quotes around ‘fine’, “Why are you looking at all that bullshit? You never look at any of that because you say it messes with your head,” you say.

“Because I can?” he scoffs, standing up from the barstool and walking around the island to place his water glass in the sink. 

You take a deep breath, trying not to point out his snappy attitude because you know he isn’t in the right headspace right now. “Joe, seriously. I know you’re not fine but it’s just me. You can talk to me,” you gently say as you walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder but he quickly turns around and walks back over to where he was sitting to grab his phone which made your hand drop from his shoulder. 

“I know you had a shitty game, I know you’re in your head about it, I get it. Trust me I do, but just let me-,” you begin to say as you walk over to him before he interrupts you. 

“Do you though?” he asks. “Do you really get it? Sweet talking and hugs don’t magically make everything better, Y/N,” he says, his voice a little louder. 

“Ouch.” you thought to yourself. “No. Remember, he’s not in the right headspace, Y/N. He’s not trying to be hurtful,”. 

“I’m not saying that,” you say to him. “I know that doesn’t make everything better but talking to someone about your feelings does. You know that. You spent weeks working on that, remember?” referring to the therapy sessions he had this past off-season to work through the emotional and mental effects of his injury and just overall mental health. 

“I know, but I said I’m fine. I don’t need to talk about anything, especially with you,” he said, his words feeling like a punch to your gut. 

“Okay, what the fuck?” you thought to yourself. “What do you mean ‘especially’ with me?” you asked, your tone switching from gentle to slightly angry. 

Joe stays quiet for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the concerned look on your face. He knew what he was saying to you was most likely hurting you and you were coming from a place of worry, but he couldn’t control the things that were leaving his mouth right now. “I’m not doing this with you right now,” he shook his head and turned around, walking over to the stairs.

“Doing what?” you said loudly, following him over to the stairs. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me but you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be,”.

“How am I making this a bigger deal?” he grumbles, turning around to look at you. “You’re the one that won’t leave me alone. I’ve said that I’m fine to you like 5 times now,”.

“You’re making this a bigger deal because you’re shutting me out, again,” you say, feeling your cheeks burn with anger, frustration, and sadness. You and Joe hardly fought, and whenever you did, it broke both of you. You felt like absolute shit right now and you couldn’t even imagine how Joe was feeling. 

“No, I’m not. You’re being unbelievable right now,” he rolled his eyes again and started walking up the stairs with you hot on his tail. 

“No, I’m not,” you say, echoing his words. “You are shutting me out just like you did after your wrist injury. What happened to letting me in your bubble? Because right now it feels like I’m being pushed 100 feet from your bubble for no reason,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you tried to hold back your building tears. 

“I’m not shutting you out, Y/N,” he said loudly, his voice even more rougher. “Just because I don’t want to talk to you about how shitty I did today doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out. I just don’t want or feel the need to talk to you about it,”.

“See, you aren’t okay. I knew you weren’t okay. You know you played like shit so you’re clearly not fine,” you huffed as you made it to the top of the stairs.

“Is that all you wanted to hear? That I played like shit? Okay, yeah, I played like absolute shit. You win. Now will you leave me alone?” he said, trying to hold back from shouting at you even though he was dancing on the line that separated shouting from talking loudly. 

“That’s not what I want to hear, Joe. You know that,” you said, your voice cracking once you felt a hot tear slide down your cheek. “I just want you to talk to me about your feelings, especially after our conversation last night. I don’t want you to go through all that again because I know how hard you tried to move past this mentally. You shut me out before and dealt with all of this on your own, and I saw how badly it affected you. I don’t want you to do that again. I can’t see you like that again,” you cried, your body shaking as all of your built-up emotions from the entire day were coming out. 

You wiped your eyes as you followed him down the hallway, both of you walking past your bedroom and heading toward his office. You made it to the door and watched him open it and step inside. You were going to follow him in, but he turned around on the doorstep which blocked you from going inside. “No,” he shook his head.

“But..Joe I-,” you cried harder.

“No. Just please go away,” he said, his jaw clenching again like it was earlier, but this time it stayed clenched. “I can’t deal with you right now,” he said, his words feeling like a stab to your heart now. 

There was nothing behind those eyes now. He had built up that wall again, that wall you tried so hard to prevent from being built because you knew you’d never be able to get over it. The same wall that he had built back in November after his injury. He did it again. After working so hard to be more open and honest about his feelings, thoughts, and emotions, he went straight back to square 1. 

“Joe, please,” you pleaded. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, if you just talk to me,” you cried more forcefully.

Joe stared at you for a few heartbeats, his heart-shattering at the sight of the state he had brought you to. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault; the game and now this argument. Deep down, he knew you were right, but he just couldn’t see it because the wall he had built was too high. 

He was about to open his mouth to say something, trying to listen to you and talk to you about how he was feeling, but he backed down once he saw you start to shake. He saw your distressed face, your red eyes, your trembling lip, your shaking body, and your rapid breathing. He knew this was all his fault. If he unloaded all of his incredibly heavy, intense, and dreadful feelings on you right now, that would be so incredibly selfish of him. 

Joe backed up in the doorway which made you think he was letting you come inside, but just as you were about to come in, he shut the door on your face. 

You stare at the closed door for a few seconds, not processing what just happened. He really wasn’t letting you in. After all that, after everything he went through? After everything you both went through these past 10 months?

“Do you know how scared I was the entire game? Do you know how every time you went down my heart stopped? Do you know that I spent 5 minutes crying in the bathroom during halftime because I saw the look on your face?” you shouted at the door, your sobs getting louder. “I know this is hard for you but I’m here, Joe. I’m always h- here,” you choke out. 

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Joe shouted through the door, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut because he instantly regretted saying that to you especially with that harshness in his voice that he knew would hurt you. 

You backed up from the door once you heard him shout at you, he never shouted at you, not even when you had arguments worse than this. You looked around the hallway, trying to collect your thoughts but there were none left to collect. You said everything that you could’ve possibly said to get through to him, what more was there left to say?

He wanted you to leave him alone, so you were going to do just that. 

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” you whispered to yourself, turning around and walking to your shared bedroom, your sobs echoing throughout the house as you disappeared inside your room. 

On the other side of the office door, Joe was sitting in his office chair, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as he was drowning with regret. He lamented saying those things to you, he doesn’t know what came over him. What was wrong with him? 

“Why did I do that to her? Why the fuck did I do that to…her?” he sniffled. He knows his anxiety and fears are controlling him right now, but there was absolutely no reason for him to take it out on the one person who always is there for him no matter what.  

“I fuck everything up,” he cried as he looked at a photo of the two of you sitting on his desk, a photo his mom took after he got his wrist surgery. 

Flashback to November 27th

“Babe, can we go skydiving?” Joe laughed as he rolled his head against the pillow to look at you. He had just woken up from surgery so he was feeling the effects of the anesthesia, and boy were they funny. The things that were coming out of his mouth were nothing but lighthearted, pure fun. It was good to see him laugh and smile especially since how melancholic his attitude had been since he got injured. 

“Absolutely not,” you said while giving him a serious look. “You are not jumping out of a plane as long as I am on this earth,”. 

“But why not? They have parachutes,” he pouted. “I think it would be sooooo fun,”.

“This is the same man who hates flying. Can you believe it?” Robin laughed as she finished typing up a text to send to family members to let them know the surgery went really well. 

“I know right?” you laughed with her. 

“How long did they say I can’t do stuff with my hand for?” Joe asked you with his adorable wide-eyed stare. 

“I think they said to have it in a sling for at least a month right now until your first follow-up,” you said as you brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“A month?” Joe dramatically gasped, his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry baby, you’re not Deadpool and can’t heal within 5 seconds,” you smiled. 

“Wait, does that mean we can’t have sex for a month?” he gasped again.

“Joe!” you shrieked, your cheeks turning red because his mom was right in front of you both.

“Ah, wait. Loophole, duhh. You can just be on top which I know you love,” he winked while using his finger to point at you for emphasis. 

“Oh my god,” you whined as you hid your face in your sweatshirt sleeves, hearing Joe’s mom break out into a fit of laughter. 

“Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me,” Joe pouted as he used his good hand to lower your hands that were covering your face. “Ahh, there she is. My beautiful, adorable, sexy-as-hell, fiance,” he said after you uncovered your face.

“Fiance?” you raised an eyebrow and asked. “Is this your way of proposing?” you giggled. 

“No. When I actually do, it’ll be way more grander, sexier, and special than this,” he winked. “Like I’m talking maybe on the top of the Empire State Building, maybe in the middle of the football stadium, maybe at the top of the Eiffel Tower, maybe even while we go skydiving type special proposal. But I know I’m marrying you and I like the word fiance better than girlfriend,” he laughed. 

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you dropped your head to his chest, feeling him cup your head with his good hand and drop a kiss on your head. 

“I love you like a lot,” he giggled. “Like a lot a lot,” he giggled again.

“Ohh, I know,” you cheesed. 

“You definitely don’t. I love you more than words can describe,” he smiled, you craned your head up to look into his sweet eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Burrow,”. 

After you pulled away you were about to get up from his hospital bed but his mom spoke up, “Wait, stay like that. I’m going to get a picture,” she smiled.  

“Yesss,” Joe nodded. “I loveeeee pictures, especially with my fiance,”. 

“You are really something,” you giggled as you sat up straight.

You moved your hair back and helped Joe scooch up in the bed before turning your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek, placing your hand under his chin as he had a giant grin on his face. His good hand was wrapped around your waist and was holding you as close as possible to his body. 

You two were so happy. For once this past month, you were laughing, you both were smiling. 

“Are you going to be my protector for the next few months?” Joe giggled. “Not let anything bad happen to me and my wrist?”.

“Oh, 100%. I am your nurse, personal bodyguard, and protector. Nobody is hurting my man on my watch,” you grinned again as you smothered his cheeks with kisses. 

You both knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as you were by each other’s side, nothing was going to hurt you. 

End of flashback 

“Nothing’s going to hurt me as long as she’s with me. I can’t keep pushing her away,” Joe whispered to himself as he snapped out of the sweet memory and wiped his tears. 

2 hours later

It had been two hours since your fight with Joe so it had been two hours since you had last seen him. After going into your bedroom earlier, you spent about 10 minutes crying in the bathroom as you tried to change into some comfier clothes. You felt awful about the whole thing. The way you lost your cool a few times, the way he was talking to you, just everything–it was horrible. 

You were currently sitting on the couch, sipping on some water and scrolling through some photos on your phone of the two of you. You let out a small laugh when you came across a silly photo of the two of you at a Hurricane Party you dragged him to at LSU. You remembered he was fully against the idea of going to a party during a hurricane, saying it was ‘batshit crazy’ and a ‘death wish’ but you managed to drag him along with you because you didn’t want him to sit inside and stress about the storm. In the photo, you two were standing on the deck of your friend’s house, the wind blowing so hard against you that Joe’s hat was flying away, and you with the hat you were trying to catch. His hand was tightly gripping onto yours and there were silly, drunk, lovesick smiles on both your faces as you were being soaked from the rain.  

“We’re insane,” you sniffled, realizing how batshit crazy it really was to party during a hurricane. 

As you were looking at other photos, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked over at the bottom of the staircase, seeing Joe coming down in comfy clothes and wet hair which meant he showered and came out of his office at some point. 

“At least he wasn’t in there for the entirety of these two hours looking at stuff from the game,” you thought to yourself. 

Joe met your eyes as he walked into the room, seeing how red and puffy they were which was yet another thing that made him feel like absolute shit. He turned his head away at the same time you turned yours and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a glass from the cabinet. 

He started pouring you a glass of water, adding a few ice cubes because he knew you loved to chew on ice after you cried. At first, he didn’t understand the correlation, but then you explained to him that the ice has this cooling effect that can reduce heat and swelling around the face that happens after crying for a while. 

He grabbed the glass from the counter and slowly walked over to the couch, standing in front of you and holding the glass out. “Here,” he softly said, his voice just as heavy as yours which told you that he was crying too.

You slowly looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were also red and puffy. He definitely was crying too. 

“Thanks,” you quietly say as you take the glass from him, taking a big sip and letting the ice cube float into your mouth. 

“At least he remembered the ice,” you thought to yourself, appreciating the fact that he added them. 

You start to chew on the ice as you see Joe plop down on the couch next to you, your body freezing up because you remember everything he said to you earlier. You knew he was coming from a place of anger and guilt, but it still hurt. Joe noticed you tense up next to him, because of him, and that felt like a knife to his heart.

You both stayed quiet, staring at the random re-run of an episode of Friends that was playing on TV, but your minds weren’t focused on what was happening in the show. They were focused on each other. 

Joe felt his bottom lip start to quiver as his eyes once again pooled with tears, all of his emotions were coming out again. He fucked things up with you so bad tonight that he didn’t even know how to fix it. He hurt you. You were just trying to help him for his own good and he shut down on you. He shut you out. The one and only person that he let into his bubble. The one person he needed in his bubble. 

His brain was already crowded with anxiety and fear regarding football, but this was the worst thing out of everything. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, he didn’t want to deal with this on his own.

You heard soft sniffles come from beside you so you looked over, your heart shattering again as you saw Joe on the verge of tears, his eyes so red and his lip trembling like he was trying to hold it together. 

He didn’t need to hold it together, not around you. You knew that. You needed to make sure he knew that. “Come here,” you whispered to him as you put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him into your chest.

Joe immediately snaked his arm around your waist and rested his cheek against your chest, letting his tears fall from his eyes onto your pink tank top. You wriggled your hand into his frosted tip hair, scratching his scalp and pressing kisses to his head as he cried harder into your chest. 

You hated seeing him cry, but you knew he was feeling a lot right now and he needed to get his feelings out and this was the best way for him to do it. “It’s okay,” you soothed as you rubbed his back. “I’m here,”.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m s- so fucking sorry,” he cried harder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I didn’t mean to say all of that horrible shit to you. You don’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help,”.  

“I know, baby, I know,” you said, blinking away a few of your own tears. “It’s okay,”,

“No, it’s not okay,” he said. “This is all so fucked up. I fucked everything up,” he sobbed. 

“No, you didn’t,” you said to him as you continued to rub his back. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Joe. Everything’s fine,”.  

“I did. I fucked up in the game and then I fucked up things with you. Nothing’s fine,” he sniffled. 

“Listen, Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby. As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine,” you said to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Like I said earlier, I’m right here. Just talk to me,”.

“...You’re right,” he sniffled, breaking through the mental wall he had built. “You belong in my bubble, I can’t keep you out of it,”.

“So don’t,” you said, pulling him in tighter. 

“I’m scared,” he breathed out a few seconds later. “I feel guilty about everything. This game was supposed to be different. I was supposed to be different. I feel like all of this was my fault because I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. This was my first game back and I played like absolute shit out there,”.

“Oh, Joe,” you said as your face dropped as well as your heart. 

“I disappointed everyone. Most importantly, I disappointed you. Even after everything you told me last night, I couldn’t do it. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong and I didn’t do anything to fix it,” he said as a few more tears fell from his eyes.

“You didn’t disappoint anyone, Joe. Nobody expected you to go out there and play like you had a completely normal year. You went through so much with this injury, obviously things weren’t going to go back to normal in one game,” you gently said. “And you could never disappoint me. I told you, I know you. The public doesn’t know you like I do so they’re going to run with whatever bullshit they want as an explanation for why the game went the way it did. I know why things went the way they did, I’m not disappointed in you at all. I’m proud of you for going out there and doing what you did today,” you said as you pressed another kiss on his forehead and moved your hand back up to his soft hair. 

“I just feel like I had the shinest wheels, you know? There was so much hype and fire around me when I first got drafted, but ever since then, I’ve just disappointed everyone. It feels like the wheels are rusting. I know what everyone’s been saying, and I get it. I would say the same thing if I was in their shoes. It’s been 5 years of nothing but injuries, slow starts, and coming up short. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone, everyone keeps getting better and I feel stuck. Right now, all of my cages are mental and that’s why I’m scared. If I keep doing this, I’m wasting my potential. I’m stuck as the ‘injury prone’ and ‘wasted potential’ quarterback,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice comforting you because it meant he was letting you in.

“I haven’t done what I promised to do when I got drafted, so why should people believe me when I say that I’m built for this? Why should they believe me when I say that this year will be different? And you know what? They don’t believe me, at least not anymore and I saw that today. They see right through me. Even I see right through me,” he said.

“Can you see right through me?” he asked you, looking up into your soft eyes. 

“Yes,” you nodded, his brows furrowing at your response. “Not in that way though,” you added. “I see right through you because I know you. That’s why I knew you weren’t fine the second you walked out of the locker room. Remember, the media, the fans, and the public don’t see through you, they only see the surface level because they don’t know you. They don’t truly know how hard you work, how strong you are, how much passion you really have for this. They’re going to spew whatever bullshit they want because that’s what they do. If they were in your shoes, then they would know why these things happen and the reality of the situation. They can’t see through you, I promise. And as for the not getting better, you’re crazy if you think that. I saw you in practice, your throws have never looked better. You have never looked better, all this muscle and beefiness is a part of getting better. And like I told you yesterday, you control the narrative. You don’t have to be the ‘injury-prone’ quarterback, you can change it. Deep down, you know who you are. Don’t let these trolls and interlopers define you,”. 

Joe nodded as he felt his breaths steady out and his tears start to dry up. “I played scared yesterday, and I don’t know why? I thought I was ready, you know? We weren’t supposed to lose that game,”.

“I know,” you sighed. “But you’ve gone through so much these past 5 years, it’s completely normal to be hesitant and nobody should be blaming you for this. Yesterday’s loss wasn’t just on you. You’re on a team, Joe. They didn’t play perfectly either and the blame shouldn’t only fall on you. You’re a piece to the puzzle, a big piece, but not the only piece. The media always wants to pin everything on one person. One thing that I admire about you is how easily you block out the outside noise, don’t change that. Block it out like you always do,”. 

“This is game 1 out of 17. Don’t let this define you and don’t let the noise get to you,” you said as you used your thumb to rub the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the wet tear trails.

Joe nodded again, taking in all of the words you were saying to him. You were right, about all of it. He was so in his head about everything and so panicked that he couldn’t use logic and sense to think clearly. This was just one bump in the road as you explained. He had 16 more games to play and 16 more opportunities to show everyone what he’s made of. 

“You’re right,” he nodded. “This was one game. I can take this, learn from my mistakes, and get better,”.

“That’s exactly what I like to hear,” you smiled after hearing him work through his complicated feelings. “You’re going to get better. The team is going to get better. If you want to fix the blaring issues, do it with a calm, collected, and cool mind. You’re called ‘Joe Cool’ for a reason. Live up to that name,” you giggled. “Don’t lose your cool, don’t lose your composure over shit like this. I know you feel awful about how things went today, but one bad game doesn’t define a player and doesn’t define the entire season. Things were rough, but you always, no, you will bounce back,”.

“Thank you,” he sniffled against your chest, his brain feeling like it had just been given a nice comfy king-sized bed and cloud-like blanket to sleep in for the night. You were the only person that could make him turn his brain off and he couldn’t thank you enough. “I think I just got panicked after seeing everyone’s reactions and seeing how things looked out on the field plus everything I was feeling yesterday made it worse,”.

“Of course,” you smiled as you gave his head another kiss before holding him tighter against you. “And I get it. Sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in but that’s why it’s always important to talk to someone when you feel that way. Bottling up those feelings only makes it worse,”.  

“You're 100% right, Y/N. I’m sorry about earlier,” he said while looking up into your eyes again. “That was so fucking uncalled for. And I’m sorry for raising my voice, I was a dick to you the entire night,”. 

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You were a dick, I agree,” you began to say, earning a laugh from Joe which made your heart smile, “But you’re my dick and I know how to handle you,” you smiled, then quickly furrowed your brows. 

“Wait, that doesn’t sound right at all,” you slapped your hand against your mouth after realizing what that sounded like, another laugh coming from Joe’s mouth. 

“I know what you mean,” he smiled. “But seriously, everything I said was straight bullshit. You mean the world to me and without you, I really think I would end up in an insane asylum. You’re the single most important thing in my life and I appreciate everything you do for me. Don’t ever leave me alone if I ask you to. Like please, I can’t live without you. Chain yourself to my wrist if you need to,”.

“Noted,” you smiled. “Just don’t freak out on me like that again, okay? You worked so hard this past year to get out of that zone, break free from that dark cloud, and I don’t want to see you back there,”. 

“I promise I won’t go back there and if I ever feel like I am, you’ll be the first person I come to. I’m never going to keep you out of the bubble again,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your chest. “I love you,” he said with another kiss to your chest.

“I love you too,” you smiled down at him. “I love you like a lot a lot,” you giggled, echoing what he said to you after his wrist surgery. 

“You know, sweet talking and hugs do make everything better,” he laughed as he looked up at you with his child-like smile you loved to see. 

“Oh, I know,” you winked. “But you still feel pretty stiff right now. Are you sure you’re 100% okay?”. 

“I think it’s just all the tension that I didn’t get to release out on the field. And I guess everything that happened after made it worse,” he grimaced. 

“Ah, that makes sense,” you nod, trying to think of a way to help him get his tension out because you knew if he didn’t, he’d be whiny all night about it. “How about some hot, post-loss sex to make you feel better?” you wiggled your eyebrows and asked. 

Joe’s eyes jumped up to meet yours as he was a bit taken aback by your straightforwardness. “For real?” he asked as he got up from your chest. 

“Mhm, the perfect way to get the tension and aggression out,” you said while licking your lips and giving him a sultry smile. 

“I love you, so fucking much,” he growled in your ears before shooting up from the couch, snaking his arms under you, lifting you up, and leading you up to the bedroom bridal style.

“At least the wrist seems to be just fine,” you giggled as he quickly ran up the stairs with you. 

Not even 5 minutes later, you two were mostly naked, on the bed, and attached to each other’s lips as if you had never kissed each other before. His lips moved against yours hungrily, signaling that he was feeling that way tonight and that you should brace yourself for what was to come.

You felt him pull away from your lips and start pressing wet, sloppy kisses down your body. “I thought we were getting right to it?” you asked him as you felt his gentle lips on your belly. 

“Mmm, I gotta make it up to you first, then we can get to it,” he smiled up at you. 

“But I said I-,”.

“Nope. I have to make you feel good first, you deserve it,” he winked before he continued to kiss down your body. You felt him attach his lips to the skin of your inner thigh, rhythmically sucking and biting which would surely leave a mark while his hands crept up to the waistband of your lace panties. He then moved his lips to press a kiss to your clothed core before pulling your underwear down, tossing it to the side, and then flashing you a devilish grin since he saw how you were squirming around on the bed because of the undeniable ache between your thighs. 

The next few minutes passed by like a blur and the next thing you knew, Joe’s head was buried deep in between your thighs and your back was arching off the bed. “Joe,” you moaned as you felt him push you back down, the expert swirl of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. “J- Joe,” you whispered, your head falling to the side as your eyes fluttered shut. 

Joe couldn’t help but smile into you as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the beautiful sounds coming from your mouth making his heart happy but also, his dick.

“Mmm, fuck..,” you whimpered as you gripped the silk sheets, tossing your leg over his shoulder and lightly gliding your foot along his muscular back. The sudden touch made Joe groan into your core which sent vibrations throughout your body, your heated touch feeling like fire against his cold frame.  

He continued to lap at your drenched folds, all while his hands were tightly gripping your hips and massaging your plush skin. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you whispered with another loud moan following after as you felt his perfect ski-slope nose rubbing against your aching clit.

You placed a hand into his hair, softly pulling on the strands as you pushed him closer to your core and yet another moan came from your mouth. Joe lifted his head out from in between your thighs and looked up at you, “You’re extra vocal tonight,” he smirked, his lips and chin coated with your wetness. 

“Shut up,” you whined before you pushed his head back down, a smile appearing on your lips when you felt him attach his lips to your bundle of nerves and flick your clit with his warm tongue. You felt yourself fading away, getting lost in the sensual supernova that was happening down below.

“...Oh my god,” you whined a few seconds later, feeling him thrust a finger into your core which pushed you closer to your orgasm even faster than before. “Don’t stop,” you said while pulling on his hair, your leg lightly wrapping around the back of his neck. 

You felt him move his other hand down, his thumb resting on your clit as he rubbed slow circles around the bundle of nerves–this movement made you see stars. The combination of his thumb rubbing your clit, his finger thrusting in and out of your slick core, and his mouth going unhinged was making the imaginary band in your stomach tighten harder than it ever had before. 

“I’m close,” you whimpered, your hips gently bucking at the jolt of pleasure moving through your body. “I’m..s- so…c- close,” you whimpered, this time a little louder because his thumb started moving faster around your clit. You then feel him add another finger into your core, your hips grinding against the bed as you search for any form of relief, but the only thing that could relieve you was taking his sweet time. 

“Baby, please,” you begged, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off the bed again, his fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of your core while you felt a more extreme feeling begging to be released from inside of you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, the feeling about to break through in just a few seconds.

Joe curled his fingers inside of your core and moved his mouth back up to your clit, roughly attaching his mouth to the bud and sucking you in a way that he knew drove you crazy. And then just a few seconds later you dropped back down to the bed as you felt yourself tip over the edge, his name falling from your lips like some seductive chant while you came undone. “Joe!” you screamed, tightly closing your eyes and feeling your entire body shake with the force of your orgasm. 

Joe looked up through his eyelashes, watching you restlessly move around and hearing breathy moans leaving your beautiful mouth as he lapped at the juices of your intense–still going–orgasm. He was slowly getting more and more worked up as he watched you come apart, knowing he was the only man who had ever seen you this vulnerable and raw and was the only man who was going to see this. 

A minute later you open your eyes, your chest heaving as you recover from the intense high that washed over you, “Holy fuck,” you panted as you saw Joe smiling at you, his lips and chin completely covered in your release, his face showing that he somehow enjoyed this just as much as you did. 

“Did I just-,” you asked, feeling the soaked sheets below you, as you caught your breath. Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement as you watch Joe wipe his chin with his fingers before using his tongue to lick them clean. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “You did,”. 

“Oh my god,” you said, hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment. 

Joe let out a throaty laugh before kneeling on the bed again and hovering over you, then moving your hands off of your face, “Why are you hiding,” he smiled.

“Because I just…,” you said while biting your lip, his bedroom eyes making you want to pounce on him right that second even though you also wanted to run and hide for some reason.

“What?” he said while trying to hold back his cocky smile. “Squirted?” he asked while moving your hair out of your face.

“You don’t have to say it like that…,” you said while hiding your face again. 

After all this time, you still felt shy around him. He’d seen your most embarrassing moments, your best and your worst. He’d seen it all. The fact that you felt embarrassed about this little thing was adorable and another reminder that you were the most precious girl he had ever met. 

“Don’t feel embarrassed, babe. It’s not the first time and it’s definitely not the last time,” he softly said while leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I think it was super hot and super sexy,”. 

“Really?” you asked while peeking out at him through your fingers.

“Mhmmm. Besides, I’ve seen way worse than this. Can’t forget the time I walked in on you fingering yourself while I was away at practice,” he grinned from ear to ear, as if he was proud that he made you so worked up even when he was away from you.

“Joseph Lee,” you screamed while playfully slapping his bare chest.

“Hey, it was a great show,” he shrugged. “I can still remember the sounds,” he said while clearing his throat. “Oooh, Joe. Ohhh Joe, fuck. Joe, ah… Joey!” he moaned as he mimicked you, all while laughing because he couldn’t be serious about it. 

“You know, I don’t have to offer an outlet for you to release your tension,” you shrugged as you started to get up from the bed but felt yourself being caged in by your large boyfriend. 

“Ahem, I don’t think that’s how this works, baby,” he shook his head. “Once you put something on the table, you can’t take it off,”.

“Oh yeah?” you teased. “What if I do?”.

“You don’t wanna know,” he whispered in your ear before slamming his thick cock into your dripping entrance with no warning. 

“Joe,” you gasped, the sudden feeling of him stretching you out and filling you up so extreme and lively. 

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned as he threw his head back, his cock moving at an instantaneous pace. “That’s it…,” he said again but a little quieter while he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, the feeling of your warm walls wrapping around him so intense and special. 

“Joe, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt his cock repeatedly slam into your cervix, his body moving against yours recklessly and roughly. His thrusts quickened as he moved deeper and deeper inside you, the sounds of your breathy moans getting louder with each snap of his skilled hips. He sported a euphoric look on his once-tired face, a sign that he felt relaxed and it was all to your credit. 

The next few minutes were hot, steamy, and messy as he whispered filthy praise into your ear which matched the pure vulgarity that was happening between you two on the bed right now. His hard thrusts made it difficult for you to hold it together, your nails clawing at his tan back as you bit down on his shoulder and got lost under his touch. “You’re so good to me,” he moaned in your ear, his hand moving up and wrapping around your throat. 

“Joe,” you struggled to moan, feeling his grip around your throat becoming a little tighter as the pleasure inside of you was rapidly building.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted as he picked his head up and cupped the back of your leg, and lifted it over his shoulder; this new position opened you up even more and made it easier for him to hit all the right spots inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, the sight of his lip in between his teeth and his thick body moving against you making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“I’m close,” you moaned as you looked down, moaning again at the sight of his shaft rapidly moving in and out of your slick heat.

“Fuck, me…too,” he groaned, his pace getting rougher and rougher as sounds of your skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room. “I love you,” he moaned loudly once he felt his cock start to twitch inside of you. 

“Joe, fuck…please, I need to come,” you whined, his grip on your leg getting tighter. 

“I know baby, I know,” he whimpered, “I’m almost there,” he added as he dropped your leg and moved his hand to the headboard, gripping it tightly as he used it as leverage to slam into you even harder. All the tension, all the aggression, it was all coming out in the most fruitful way possible. He was getting away from himself, and it was all thanks to you. 

“Ah, fuck,” you screamed, feeling yourself on the brink of pleasure, stars filling your eyes as his pace remained rough and hard. 

A few seconds later, you felt him shoot endless ropes of cum into your wet heat which were accompanied by another loud moan from him. “Fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted as he slowed his thrusts into you, making sure that his release stayed inside of you and that you reached your high.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, needing to feel your high right this second. 

“I’ve got you,” he said while giving you a lazy smile, his hand moving down to your clit and rubbing rapid circles around the sensitive bud as he slowed his thrusts even more.  A few seconds later, you clamped down on his cock, arched your body up into him, and felt yourself let go for the second time tonight. “Oh my god,” you moaned before you felt him press gentle kisses all along your neck and eventually your face, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as your highs washed over you. 

A few minutes later, you were both lying against the messy sheets, your head tucked into his chest as he played with your hair and once again apologized to you for how he acted earlier tonight. 

“Joe, I promise, It’s okay,” you giggled. “You’ve made it up to me in more ways than one. The fact that I can’t walk right now is an apology enough,”. 

“Okay, I’ll stop now,” he smiled. “Thank you for everything though. This and for everything you said earlier,”. 

“No need to thank me, baby. I told you, this is my job. We’re in this together and I promise that nothing’s going to hurt you as long as you’re with me. Like I said to you back in November, I’m your protector,” you grinned. 

“That you are,” he laughed, his body feeling loose and light under you for the first time all day. 

“Thank god he feels better," you smiled to yourself. Joe was the most important thing in your life, having him relaxed, focused, and calm was all you wanted. He deserved all the happiness, success, and love in the world and you needed to make sure he knew that. Moments like this were going to happen all throughout his career, but they were controllable and you were a big reason as to why they were. He wasn't kidding when he said he needed you inside his bubble or he'd end up in the insane asylum. You were his safe haven, his place of tranquility, his calm in the storm.

“I love you more than anything, Joe. Everything's going to be alright, I promise,” you smiled up at him, then leaned in for another kiss before you felt him pull the sheets over you both. 

“I love you too, Y/N,” he smiled as he nuzzled his nose against yours and leaned in for another kiss. 

–The End–

[aklaustaleteller]

Not For A Long Time

Klaus returns back to his lover omega's cottage after a long time, and he wants nothing more than to just mark her as his, all over again. But all Y/n seems to want, is to eat her dinner and get on his nerves, ...and to absentmindedly rub herself all over him.

Warnings - allusions of smut, and Alpha/Omega dynamic.

Word Count - 1.3k

This is something I found in my drafts and well, let's just say I wanted to get it out of there. It's quite aimless and silly, and doesn't have my best writing skills used, but I still hope you enjoy reading hahah <3 (I lowkey enjoyed writing this type of fic though, so do let me know if I should write more stuff like this!!)

A candle flickered in the middle of the kitchen island, its crackling being the only sound other than one of the running water in the sink.

The fridge was, quite carelessly, left open ajar as Y/n kept herself busy on the other end, washing the rice before she could cook it. She hummed a very gentle tune, or it could be a rock song that her soft voice just happened to make sound similar to a lullaby.

It was as she was taking out a casserole from the fridge that she felt the night wind come in with a rather strong force, freeing some of her loose hair strands from where they were tucked behind her ear.

"Klaus, how lovely it is to see you," she smiled, closing the fridge and lifting her gaze from the stove to settle it onto the charming intruder.

"Hello, love," he pursed his lips before a smirk dug out one of his dimples. "It's been quite a long time," he continued, strolling closer to her.

Shaking her head, she turned away from him to focus on the task at hand. "A week is not a long time, Klaus," she said with a chuckle.

"Not even when it's your lover Alpha that's been gone?" He asked as a whisper in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder while snaking his arms around his waist from behind.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you the answer to that in just words," she answered, her voice having gone quieter along with his, and turned her face to press a peck on the corner of his mouth, doing it again when a smile stretched out on his lips.

He sighed then, letting his eyes fall shut as he breathed in her scent. The smell of old books, soil after it's just rained along with some hint of a rose and finally, her blood, knocked his senses out for a couple seconds.

It reminded him of the first time he had caught the whiff of her scent from a couple miles away, the full moon shining down on him and making his night-sky fur look silkier than it was. Taking advantage of being in his wolf form, he’d chased down the scent and ended up coming to a halt in front of a front garden lit up with warm lights coming from inside the cottage.

He'd seen a couple fireflies near the ivy that crept all over the walls from outside, making the building look rather earthly and older than the time itself. The noise of plates and bowls clattering didn't go amiss by Klaus, making him near the noise with deliberate steps.

Saliva coated his tongue as he finally stood just below the window, keeping himself hidden as his eyes peered inside to see a woman stirring something in a pot, sputters of laughter falling from her soft mouth as an energized dog skittered around her feet, clawing at her skirt to reach the treat she held up high in her free hand.

His lips had pulled back in a smile then, eyes unable to move on from her.

He'd returned every night since then, catching her attention on a particular one when she'd been out by the lake, crying in her knees and that was when Klaus had realised that the woman, he'd secretly been going mad after, was an Omega, left all alone when she should've been in an Alpha's arms, being taken care of in all shape and form.

And so, very calmly he'd approached her and when she'd realised that he was an Alpha wolf, she lost even that slight control over her emotions and clutched his fur as she cried into his neck, stutters and hiccups escaping her mouth until she'd calmed down and passed out, tired, in his presence.

That was the day he'd swore to himself that he wasn't going to let her end up hurt ever again. And as he took her home in his arms, silently hoping that she wouldn't wake up to catch him naked, he'd laid her in her bed when she allowed him to enter his home in a sleepy haze.

"Stay, Alpha?" she'd asked, her eyes moistening all over again and Klaus had not the heart to leave her be, causing him to lie down beside her and hold her in his arms as she purred and slept the night away, his body merely covered by her sheets.

Since that night, he'd learned that she'd been crying that day because her puppy-dog had been adopted by someone in the town who had also adopted his siblings. He would be happier with them, she'd sobbed into his arms while telling him, trying to reassure herself over Klaus.

And also, the fact that she was, indeed, an Omega yet to be claimed by an Alpha. She'd yet to give herself to him completely, to surrender herself to be his to love and care for. But Klaus understood that, accepted her past traumas and allowed her time to open up to him day by day.

"I was just preparing dinner. Care to join this lonely Omega, Alpha?" She asked, giving him her full attention after finally placing the food on the stove.

Looking at him doe eyed as he cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss on her mouth, she whimpered when a growl rumbled deep in his chest, meant to be heard just by her.

"Of course," he accepted gently, backing her up until she was sat on the kitchen island.

She motioned for him to wait, and Klaus looked at her confusedly before he saw her blow out the candle behind her. A chuckle came from him, finding the action cute.

Y/n faced him again with a sloppy smile on her face, letting him press kisses on her mouth over and over again until he had her laughing and pulling away from him. He chased after her nonetheless -- pressing his mouth to her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin and continued to pepper kisses down her jaw.

And it was when he reached her collarbone that he truly began marking her. He left a trail of love bites behind as he scattered his kisses all over the exposed skin. Her little whimpers and moans only made him hungrier for her, making him pull her hair back, giving him more skin to mark up.

"Klaus --" she began but he cut her off with a hiss.

"Now, darling," he breathed warningly against her skin. "It’s Alpha," he corrected her.

"Pl-please, Alpha," Y/n purred, beginning to feel sensitive. "Need to turn off the stove, please," she begged him to let her get away, and Klaus did.

Lifting her off the counter, he let her wrap her legs around his waist as he walked over and turned off the stove and moved on to speed up the stairs.

He laid her on the fluffy bed that reeked of her scent but before he could lie down over her and rid her of the clothes that got in the way of his mouth and her skin, she was out of the bed and running away from him, spurts of laughter falling from her lips.

His eyes flashed golden just for a second before he was chasing after her, finding the situation rather amusing.

"I'm hungry, Alpha. Won't you eat with me?" She said out of breath when he caught up to her, snatching her from behind and into his chest.

And her giggles stopped altogether when she heard him growl, this time louder to warn her against disobeying him as she realised that she’d begun getting on his nerves now.

"Please Alpha?" She mewled for him, getting him with those eyes all over again as he accepted her pleas and took her over to the dining table, bringing her the dinner and feeding it to her whilst she sat in his lap, talking about all the happenings that she came across while he was gone, not for a long time, clearly, as she couldn’t stop absentmindedly rubbing herself all over him.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Neon Moon

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Rhysand’s sister grapples with a one-sided mating bond that has yet to snap for the Shadowsinger. When a drunken night brings the two closer together than ever, Azriel is made aware of a circumstance that could change the course of her life.

This is a one-shot that is able to be read as a stand-alone fic.

This is also a prequel to Wicked Felina and elements of this prequel will be involved in the remainder of the series. Wicked Felina Part 5

Warnings: Sexual content, alcohol, language, age difference concerns

Y/N - 19 Years Old

When the sun goes down on my side of town, that lonsesome feeling comes to my door.

Pretty moans echo through the walls of the House of Wind only broken by an ocasional deep groan.

I roll over with an aggravated sigh, pulling an overstuffed pillow across the back of my head, covering my ears. Not that it will do any good. Curse being High Fae and the exceptional hearing that comes with it.

I lay awake, taking deep breaths, trying to sink into the starry depths of my mind but Azriel’s hook-up of the week lets out a particularly loud cry of pleasure before her moans are muffled by what I assume is a gloved hand and a low reprimand.

I roll my eyes. He may as well chide her with a warning of “Shh, don’t wake the baby.” by the way he treats me.

Never mind the fact that I am an adult now. I have tits for cauldron’s sake, nice ones at that. I wouldn’t be wearing this oversized, ridiculously soft knit sweater if I didn’t.

And yet he still views me as a child.

It’s cruel to think that on my eighteenth name day, a golden thread snapped. Tethering my soul to him… and yet, he has no clue. That, or he does, and has no intention of acting on it, refusing to view me as anything other than the little sister of his best friend.

I’ve got a table for two, way in the back where I sit alone and I think of losing you.

So I grin and bear it. And if I happen to wear clothing a bit too cheeky when he is around and other males inevitably gawk at my exposed skin, thus prompting the overprotective bat to shuck his sweater off and toss it to me, and then I spend the rest of the night drinking him under the table? Well, that will have to do for now. So, I wait for the day his soul is ready to seek mine.

Y/N - 21 years old

He’s watching her again. He always does. She dances through the room like petals on a breeze, enamoring the crowd with vivacious conversation as she skirts throughout those gathered in the room. How will I ever compare to the radiant and lovely enigma that is THE Morrigan? I shouldn’t feel bitterness toward my cousin and yet I do. I get why people flock to her, she’s kind and lovely, strong, somehow both approachable and unobtainable. She’s a total pain in my ass busybody cousin-acting-as-older-sister I never wanted.

I requested that the band play Azriel’s favorite song tonight. The one time he’ll loosen up and let himself enjoy a moment. It has become a routine, our dance. The one time that he holds me a little closer. The one time I can pretend he sees me as the mature female that I am and not the child I was.

But tonight, the song plays, and it’s Morrigan in his arms, not me. It’s not the first time he’s chosen her over me. When she’s here, I don’t exist.

I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t watch this.

I spend most every night beneath the light of a Neon Moon.

I turn to leave, exiting the hall, winding through the crowd of pompous nobility from all courts. The garden. I’ll find solace in the garden, beneath the glittering stars, among the fragrant blooms. Sneaking down a quiet corridor and out a shadowed alcove, a guard opens the door for me and the warm, lavender scented breeze greets me like a friend. My steps fall swiftly, distancing myself from the evening revelry. As I wind down a path of blooming roses, a loose stone causes my sole to slip, bracing myself for the fall and the sting of rock to my palms. Instead, I am shocked to feel warm, strong arms catching me. Looking up at my savior, a few long golden locks of hair fall over the concerned, emerald green eyes staring down at me.

Y/N - four months later

“Shit, Shadowsinger. You look like you could use this more than me.”

The start of a grin tilts the left corner of his lips upward as an incredulous laugh slips from his throat. Reaching a scarred hand toward the bottle of my brother’s finer wine and swiping it from me.

Azriel’s hazel eyes assess the bottle, giving a raise of his brow. “Looks like you’ve done a number on this one already.”

“I never do things halfway.” I tease. Giving a nod toward the wine that was indeed half-empty. His dark brows rise again as I unveil a second bottle before he could remark on it. “Some Spymaster you are. You should’ve know I’d come prepared with the best selections from Rhys’ secret-” The playful jest is interrupted by the tickle of a shadow trailing up my arm and spiriting the second bottle right out of my hand, eliciting a pout of my lower lip.

“Hey, now that’s just greedy.”

The handsome planes of Azriel’s face illuminate in the twilight, causing my heart to stir. Perhaps it’s the way the night shrouds him in ominous twilight, or the way his shadows sit strewn across his shoulders but I know tonight was hard for him.

Mor had shown up to dinner as radiant as ever, a red dress clinging to her delicious curves, some male she’d picked up at Rita’s on her arm.

Now if you lose your one and only, there's always room here for the lonely

I should leave him alone but I can feel it in my chest. Stoic and broody? Yes. A lonely soul? Also yes.

And damn, do I know I deserve better than to be the female that will never be chosen first? Yes. And yet, he’s my mate and more importantly, my friend.

“Scooch over,” my arm waives in a correlating gesture. “This grass is dewy and cold and this dress is far too thin. Your leathers can handle the chill, I’m stealing your warmth.”

With a small shake of the head, a lock of raven hair falls over his forehead, Azriel scoots, exposing the vacated patch of grass for me to sit on. “Gods, it’s still chilly.” I complain as I swipe one of the bottles back from the Shadowsinger.

“Nobody asked you to come out here.”

“And yet here I am.”

Azriel eyes meet mine, a small flicker of emotion passing behind them. “Yes.” He whispers fondly. “Here you are.”

I ignore the blush threatening to redden my cheeks and fire back at him. “Your breath smells like a vineyard. You’d already gotten started on the drinking without me?”

Recognizing the rhetorical question for what it is, Azriel presses his lips to the bottle, tilting his head back as he takes a long swig of the bittersweet wine. My breath catches as a harsh swallow bobs his adam’s apple. Heat pools through me and I quickly turn away, searching for something, anything to distract from the effect he has on me.

To watch your broken dreams, dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon

Shadows dance around us, like figures on the wind, weaving in and out of the moon’s luminescent rays.

“Y/N…” I turn to face him as a scarred hand reaches for me before seemingly thinking better of it and pulling back. “I didn’t dance with you at the ball.”

It’s my turn to laugh incredulously. “That was months ago Azriel, why bring it up now?”

That peculiar flicker of emotion crosses his eyes again.

“I’m sorry.”

I pause, taken back by the apology. Had he known how much it hurt to see him dancing with her? Thinking on it, I can’t seem to grasp whether it is better or worse that way.

I freeze, grappling with emotion as he ruffles his hair with a scarred hand, dragging his palm over his face. “Y/N. The conflict that wars within me, it’s… .”

Confusion conveys on my features and I resist the urge to dive into his mind and read exactly what he’s thinking. “What?” I ask as his sentence trails into a void of lost words.

He shakes his head as if he’s already pushed whatever he was about to confess aside. Hurt washes through me and I begin to turn away. A broad, calloused palm grasps my wrist. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.” He leans closer, his wine addled breath mingling with my own, only centimeters separate his lips from mine.

I think of two young lovers running wild and free. I close my eyes and sometimes see you in the shadows.

I’m certain he can hear my heartbeat as it roars through my ears. My eyes flutter looking into his heavy-lidded hazel and onyx eyes. His head tilts, low voice barely more than a rumble.

“You’re everything.”

Azriel inhales, his gaze searching mine in a silent ask of permission, preparing to close the hairs-breadth of distance between our lips. Suddenly those lust-addled eyes go wide, nostrils flaring, and he abruptly pulls away, swiping my bottle of wine as he withdraws his hand. “You don’t need any more of this, Y/N. Go to bed.”

My mouth gapes slightly, processing what just happened. “What?”

“It’s late and I have to leave for a mission for your father in the morning.”

He stands straight, stretching out his tall body and those glorious, broad wings, stiff from sitting on the ground.

My heart is crushed, once again. The words that could change it all sitting on the tip of my tongue.

You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re my mate.

But his feelings for my cousin still run strong and we have centuries ahead of us. I refuse to be in second place.

Azriel extends a tanned arm to me, eyes now softened, a slight crease between his brows as he takes me in. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get inside.”

Taking his extended arm, we walk in silence through the grand entryway of the House of Wind, winding down the corridors within, stopping at my room, I murmur a rushed “goodnight.” before escaping behind the shield of my door, to the quiet lonesome solace of my room.

I sense Azriel’s presence outside my latched door for several moments before his steps pad down the hall opening the door one down from mine, into his room.

No telling how many tears I've sat here and cried, or how many lies that I've lied telling my poor heart he’ll come back someday.

Azriel

Azriel couldn’t take it. The way the walls closed in around him. Sleep was always just out of reach but tonight, he felt the weight on his chest in a crushing embrace.

If you lose your one and only, there's always room here for the lonely.

He’d spent the past few years dicking around, ignoring the shift he’d felt toward Y/N. For fuck’s sake, she was Rhysand’s little sister, barely an adult. She’d always gravitated toward him in her childhood. Looked up to him. And he cared so deeply for her, like a little sister. And then soon after her eighteenth birthday something began to shift in his chest. Something that he felt so incredibly wrong for feeling - and yet something he’d buried deep within begged him to accept that it was right.

He was a bastard for it and latched onto his feelings for Mor even harder, despite the fact that they’d simmered down in previous years. And then Y/N had changed her demeanor toward him and he knew- gods, he knew she wanted him but he couldn’t do it. Rhys would kill him for it if her father didn’t first. It was so wrong.

And it had gotten harder and harder recently. He’d brought females home, spent more time around Mor when she’d visit, anything to push her away without actually owning up to what his feelings were.

And then Mor had shown up on a whim tonight with some male that she’d picked up gods knows where, he couldn’t even fall back on clinging to her, leaving him forced to face how strongly he felt toward Y/N, so he’d indulged in booze and snuck out to sit beneath the moonlight and drown in his own pool of self-pity.

To watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon.

When she’d found him, any semblance of willpower was gone. Y/N was a goddess beneath the moonlight. Kind, strong, intelligent, and so damned beautiful and, out here, it was just the two of them. So, he’d finally given in. One kiss, one kiss would help him see how wrong this was. And yet as he leaned in, all he could feel was how right it seemed to be.

Until he’d inhaled, taking that final breath of courage to close the distance. That’s when he smelled it, the shift in her scent. Her scent was there but there was something somewhat familiar and earthen intertwined a scent so light and sweet, almost like roses. A scent that was not her own, not of her.

She was pregnant. He had no idea by whom but the realization sobered him up entirely. He swiped her wine and panicked. Did she know? Should he say something? Instead, like the older brother figure he’d once viewed himself as to her, he escorted her into the house and told her to go to bed, ensuring to keep the alcohol out of her reach.

Gods, he didn’t know what to do from here

He spent the rest of the night flying, taking in the stars and the moon as they shone brightly above, ethereal just like her.

He’d go on his mission this week, and Y/N and her mother would travel to the war camp that her father was at to visit him, and when she came back he’d talk it all out with her.

Yes, he’d support her and love her however she needed to be, whether it be as a friend, as chosen family, or as something more. It would all work out. It had to.

Come watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon.

————————————

Although this is a one-shot, it is also the prequel to Wicked Felina, you can read Part 1 here.

Tags

ACOTAR general: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

Wicked Felina tags: @glittervame @julesofvolterra @saltedcoffeescotch @candyjaypoppins @st4r-girl-official @nocasdatsgay @gxdsmonsters @honk4emoboyz

[gubsbuubs]

Pacify Her

Pairing: Chip Taylor x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3.5K

Warnings: Drinking, kissing, mention of Chips toxic relationship with Liza, just pure fluff.

Summary: Based on the song Pacify Her by Melanie Martinez. Y/n can’t shake the feeling that she should save her neighbor from his unhappy relationship.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated - request are open 🍒

With dinner plans bubbling in my mind, I sauntered into my garden, hopping down the porch steps. The herbs at the front were calling my name, so I leaned in close, running my fingers over their leaves.

The earthy aroma of soil and blooms enveloped me in a familiar embrace. The setting sun cast long shadows across the street, illuminating the scene with a golden hue.

From the corner of my eye, I glanced between the boards of the fence that separated my house from the neighboring one.

A flicker of movement caught my attention, and I observed as a figure emerged from the house, shoulders slumped and hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn-out denim jeans.

It's Chip Taylor, a familiar face, a man worn down by a relationship that seems to drain him of life.

Chip and his girlfriend Liza had moved in a couple of months ago, but it didn't take long for me to realize that she was not the right fit for him. From the start, their relationship seemed marred by toxic behaviors. Most often, it was Liza's voice that echoed through the thin walls of our homes, sharp and cutting as she berated Chip with insults and name-calling. He remained mostly silent, his voice a rare presence in their heated arguments, as he seemed to absorb her words with a quiet resignation. It was clear that she had a mean streak, and it pained me to see Chip subjected to such mistreatment.

Chip was a great guy in every sense of the word. Despite the storm brewing within his relationship, his true nature shone through like a beacon of warmth in our otherwise quiet neighborhood. He had a heart of gold, always going out of his way to make others feel comfortable and valued. His caring nature was evident in the small gestures he made, whether it was offering a friendly smile or lending a helping hand to a neighbor in need.

Beyond his kindness, Chip possessed a sweetness that was infectious. His laughter was like music, filling the air with joy whenever he allowed himself a moment of genuine mirth.

When Liza's sharp tongue is nowhere to be heard, Chip and I relish in each other's company, sharing stories that bring smiles to our faces. It all began with casual chats over the fence, and then, when my faucet started leaking, he offered his handiwork skills without hesitation.

But it didn't stop there. When my washer broke down or when my garage gate refused to close, Chip was there once again, ready to lend a helping hand.

His willingness to assist never failed to impress me. With each random problem that cropped up around my house, Chip was there, offering his support without expecting anything in return.

Now, I could proudly call Chip my friend.

We often share stories over a cup of coffee on my porch swing. Chip appreciated having someone who listened to him, and there I was, gladly fulfilling that role. It was clear that he valued our time together, and I was more than happy to provide a listening ear.

There's a sense of ease and comfort in our conversations, as if we've known each other for years. Chip's laughter fills the air as we exchange stories and bond over special occasions. He seems to be genuinely happy to be around me.

However, there's a noticeable shift in his demeanor when Liza is around.

As soon as he senses her impending arrival, he quickly makes his way back to his own house, eager to avoid any potential confrontation. It's as if he's a different person when he crosses the fence, leaving behind the warmth and openness.

Having shared my opinions on Liza's actions several times before, Chip knew where I stood—that she was often unkind to him and didn't deserve his unwavering loyalty. Despite my concerns, he seemed trapped in a cycle of toxic behavior, unable to break free from the grip of their troubled relationship.

It was hard to understand why he stayed with Liza despite her hurtful behavior. Perhaps he saw something in her that others couldn't, or maybe he held onto the hope that she would change. Regardless, it was evident to those around them that Chip deserved better.

As I observed Chip's weary demeanor, Liza appeared, her sharp features etched in a perpetual scowl.

I observed her as she made her way towards the street where her parked car stood, with Chip trailing closely behind her. "No! You stay here!" she yelled at him, and he obediently remained, abiding by her command, like a dog.

Liza's departure from the house is met with a palpable sense of relief from Chip, evident in the way his shoulders sag and his expression filled with exhaustion. Oblivious to his mood, Liza prattles on about her plans for the evening as she climbs into her car, blasting music as she drives away with an air of self-importance.

Chip walked toward his house with a heavy heart and a heavy sigh, his steps slow and deliberate. Leaning against the column of his porch, he stared off into the distance, admiring the sunset as it painted the sky with hues of orange and pink. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't even notice me standing just on the other side of the fence, silently watching over him with a mixture of sympathy and concern.

"Hi, stranger," I said softly as I rose from the ground, a handful of fresh herbs cradled in my palm. Peering over the fence, I met Chip's gaze, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Y/N! I didn't see you there," he replied warmly, his eyes meeting mine with a glimmer of appreciation.

I leaned casually against the fence, the scent of basil and rosemary lingering in the air between us. "How's your day been?" I asked, genuinely curious about his well-being.

Chip sighed, his smile fading slightly. "It's been... rough," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground briefly before returning to meet mine. "Liza and I had another argument. She stormed. Said she'd be back by Sunday. Doesn't want to deal with me today." His face scrunched up, as if the discomfort from the situation effected his body too.

I nodded sympathetically, understanding the strain in Chip's voice. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Chip looked up at me, "Thanks," he said, his voice filled with hesitation. "But I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it just yet, but it means a lot that you're here for me." I nodded understandingly, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Hey, how about joining me for dinner tonight? I was just about to cook up a batch of spaghetti and meatballs. It's nothing fancy, but I'd love the company."

Chip's face brightened up at the invitation, a small smile forming on his lips. "That sounds really nice," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of excitement. "I could use some distraction and good food right now." He admitted.

"It smells amazing in here, Y/N" Chip remarked with genuine appreciation as we stepped into my kitchen.

I chuckled and gestured towards the pot on the stove. "Well, I can't take all the credit. My secret ingredient is my grandma's homemade marinara sauce. It's always been a hit" Chip's eyes lit up with curiosity as he leaned in to take a whiff of the delicious aroma.

"I can't wait to try it," he said eagerly, his stomach growling in anticipation. I handed Chip a spoon and watched as he took a small taste of the sauce. His face instantly lit up with delight, confirming that my grandma's recipe was as good as ever.

"This is incredible," he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise as he took a bite of a meatball. "Oh I love homemade meals; this is not something I usually get to eat."

His words struck a chord within me, a reminder of the neglect that Chip seemed to endure with Liza. I could only imagine the lack of care he received when it came to something as basic as food.

"I'm glad you like it, Chip," I replied softly, a pang of sadness tugging at my heart. "It's unfortunate that you don't get to enjoy homemade meals more often."

Chip's expression softened, his gaze meeting mine with a hint of vulnerability. "Yeah, well, Liza and I usually just eat junk or order takeout. It's... not exactly the healthiest or most satisfying option."

"Everyone deserves to enjoy good food, especially when it's made with care and love," I said softly.

It pained me to know that someone so deserving was out there being treated so badly, especially when I knew I could treat him so well.

We decided to eat on the sofa, Chip offered to set the coffee table with plates and cups as I finished preparing the food in the kitchen.

"Wine?" I inquired without glancing away from the stove.

"Most definitely, please," came Chip's prompt reply from the living room.

I smiled to myself, pleased by his enthusiasm. "It's in the fridge, your pick!" I called back, knowing he appreciated the gesture of choice.

With the tray of food in hand, I made my way to the living room and set it down on the table. Chip was there, seated, carefully unscrewing the bottle of wine and pouring each of us a glass.

"Nice pick, Taylor," I remarked, nodding appreciatively at the bottle he had selected.

As the dinner progressed and we chatted and laughed, I couldn't help but notice how Chip really changed when he was around me.

His eyes lit up with each mouthful, and it warmed my heart to see him enjoying it so much.

At one point, he even got a bit messy with the sauce, and I had to gently wipe it off his chin with a napkin. It was a small, intimate moment that made me feel closer to him. As I leaned in, our eyes briefly locked, and there was a fleeting sense of connection that sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but smile as I watched him savor every last bite, knowing that I had succeeded in bringing him joy.

His demeanor was totally different from earlier, the tension seemed to melt away from his shoulders, as he leaned back into the sofa, a look of satisfaction gracing his features. With a contented sigh, he raised his glass to his lips, savoring the remaining traces of wine.

When Chip's gaze met mine, I felt a rush of anticipation. His eyes traced the curves of my face with a tenderness that spoke volumes, and then they drifted down to my lips, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

I couldn't shake the feeling that Chip deserved so much more than what he had been getting from Liza. It tugged at my heartstrings—this overwhelming urge to show him that he deserved to be loved and cherished.

"Stay away from things that aren't yours." Liza's voice echoed in my head, a haunting reminder of a previous argument we had. Chip had helped me with something around the house, so I offered him some cookies to take home.

Later that night, I was disturbed by banging on my door and screaming. It was Liza, yelling and screaming uncontrollably. The reason behind her fury? The innocent act of offering cookies earlier in the day.

But in right now I couldn't help but wonder if breaking those rules was worth it, if it meant bringing joy to someone who had been overlooked for far too long.

She had accused me of trying to steal her man, but was he really hers if he wanted me so bad?

After dinner, Chip and I tackled the dishes together, falling into an effortless rhythm. He washed while I dried and stored, our movements synchronized. It felt as if he belonged here, by my side in my house, his presence seamlessly blending with the familiar surroundings.

As we worked, stealing glances and chuckling together, there were these little touches, accidental but electrifying. Each brush of our hands or shared smile sent a jolt of excitement through me, leaving me yearning for more.

As I finished putting away the last dish, a sense of awareness tingled at the back of my mind, prompting me to turn around. There he stood, leaning casually against my sink, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on me with unwavering attention.

"What's on your mind, mister?" I teased, a smile playing on my lips as I faced him.

He chuckled lightly, tilting his head to the side with a soft smile. I could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, as if he was debating whether or not to share his thoughts.

"I just don't know how to thank you," he admitted, his voice coated with sincerity.

I replied, my smile widening. "It was my pleasure. Just seeing you happy is enough.

“You're always so good to me. You listen to me... You've fed me... You're a good person in my life, and I don't know what I would do without you." Chip's voice cracked, wavering as tears welled up in his eyes “You've shown me kindness when no one else would, and I am forever grateful for that." My heart swelled with warmth as I reached out to him, pulling him into a warm embrace before his emotions could overwhelm him.

"Hey, hey, none of that, no crying" I murmured softly into his chest, my arms wrapped securely around him. "You don't need to thank me for being there for you."

As Chip relaxed into my embrace, his chin nestled against the top of my head, I felt a sense of tranquility wash over us. His warmth enveloped me, comforting and reassuring, as he let out a deep sigh of relief.

With my cheek pressed against his chest, I could feel the racing rhythm of his heartbeat, a frantic drumming that gradually began to steady.

"You know, Y/N" Chip began softly, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between us. "I don't think I've ever felt as happy and appreciated as I do when I'm with you."

His words took me by surprise, and I lifted my head from his chest to meet his gaze.

"You just... you have this way of making me feel seen and heard, you know? Like, I matter." I felt a swell of emotion in my chest at his words, and I reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

"You do matter, Chip," I said softly, my voice tinged with sincerity. "Even if she doesn't show you the appreciation you deserve,"

Chip's expression softened at my words, "I know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes it's hard to see things clearly when you're in the thick of it."

I reached out to gently squeeze his cheek, offering him a reassuring smile. "I understand," I said, my tone gentle yet firm. "But you don't have to keep lying to yourself, Chip. You deserve to be with someone who truly loves and appreciates you, someone who sees you for who you are."

Chip's eyes flickered slowly acknowledging the truth in my words.

Chip's reluctance was palpable, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to come to terms with the truth. A shadow of doubt lingered in his eyes. "I... I do love her," he said quietly, his voice hesitant as if trying to convince himself of the truth of his words. "At least, I think I do. I mean, we've been together for so long... It's what's expected, isn't it? But lately, I've been questioning everything."

"Stop lying with those words," I urged, my voice soft but firm. "You know you don't love her."

I sighed, frustration bubbling up within me as I watched him wrestle with his feelings. "She's not good for you, Chip," I confessed, my voice tinged with exasperation. "I can't stand her whining. She's always putting you down, calling you names, and ordering you around. She doesn't deserve you." My voice trailed off into a whisper as I admitted, "Loving her seems tiring."

Chip's hands reached out to cup my face, as my eyes started to water, his touch gentle as he wiped a tear off of my cheek. I felt a sense of comfort wash over me in his embrace. The idea of him being stuck with someone so vile made me sad, and I couldn't help but yearn for him to break free from the toxic cycle he was trapped in.

"I... I don't know what to do," Chip murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching mine for guidance.

"You don't have to figure it out right now, Chip," I reassured him, gently cupping his cheek. "But you know deep down that she's not good for you. You deserve to be with someone who truly sees you and appreciates you for who you are."

" I think I've known that for a while now. Y/N when I'm with you, everything just feels different. It's like I can finally breathe, like I'm truly myself. I've been trying to persuade myself that I love Liza because that's what I'm supposed to do," he paused before continuing, "but deep inside, I've always known that it's you who makes me feel alive."

As Chip's confession lingered in the air, a mix of emotions swirled between us. With a gentle lowering of his head, our noses brushed against each other, and he reached out, pulling me closer to him. One hand found its place on my waist, drawing me in as our lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. The kiss was slow and tender, as if time had momentarily stood still.

But just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Chip pulled away, his eyes wide with surprise and uncertainty, as if he had been taken aback by his own actions.

With a shaky exhale, Chip spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry," he murmured, his words filled with regret. "I shouldn't have done that. You're being a good friend, and I took advantage."

"No, Chip," I pleaded softly. "Don't apologize. I wanted that kiss. I've wanted it for so long." And with that, I leaned in once more, closing the distance between us.

Our lips collided in a fierce, urgent kiss, fueled by pent-up desire. It was a messy tangle of tongues and lips, each movement desperate and hungry. His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, while mine grasped at his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as if trying to anchor myself to him.

With each passing second, the intensity of our kiss grew, and the heat between us rose to a fever pitch.

As we pulled away, Chip's eyes searched mine, "I... I don't want to go back to my place," he admitted, as he pressed his forehead on mine.

His words sent a surge of warmth through me, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart. "You don't have to," I replied softly, reaching out to take his hand. "You can stay here if you want."

A faint smile played at the corners of Chip's lips, his gaze softening as he squeezed my hand. "I'd like that," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"What about Liza?" I asked softly, unable to shake off the lingering worry about potential complications.

Chip met my gaze, his eyes steady and determined. "She won't be back until Sunday," he replied, his voice carrying a note of finality. "But even if she was, it wouldn't matter. I don't care. You're the one I want to be with."

As our lips met once again, our passion intensified, and we found ourselves slowly making our way to my bedroom.

Chip gently lowered me down onto the bed, his touch firm yet tender. I could feel the heat of his body pressing against mine as he settled on top of me, our bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were made for each other.

Chip's tender caresses traced delicate paths across my skin, igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down my spine. His hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of my body with a skillful touch that left me breathless. In that moment, worries and inhibitions melted away, replaced by an overwhelming desire. Our bodies moved in harmony, fueled by the raw passion that consumed us.

As clothing fell away, discarded slowly and tenderly, we clung to each other with an unyielding grip. There was no room for hesitation or doubt. Each whispered word and soft sigh added to the symphony of our passion, echoing through the room.

In the embrace of our love, we surrendered to sleep. Bodies entwined, hearts beating as one, we found solace in each other's arms. In that moment, the past and future faded, leaving only the tranquility of the present as we drifted into slumber.

[ladythornofrivia]

SING FOR ME (part one) | REVISED

dark!aemond x septa!tyrell!reader 🌹

summary: a once princess from a noble house took sworn oath for the Faith of the Seven blossomed into a septa with immaculate reputation due to her gift and preserving her virtue until the fate encounters with the one-eyed prince. (Also inspired by Phantom of the Opera).

warning: stalking, r*pe, unprotected sex, non-con, dubcon, dark aemond, manipulation, obsessive, kidnapping, aemond being delulu

a/n: I'm so sorry--I had to revise this. I didn't think it's good enough, so I had to make some changes, even the title--it feels off. Please forgive me.

Chapter One

The Pious Rose

The most beautiful rose was hidden away from the gardens.

The rose meant to blossom, not wither. She wasn’t meant to be tucked in the rest of her life. (Y/n) wasn’t meant to be tucked in the shadows. She belonged in the golden daylight, surrounded with flowers and her companions, her servitude in the Faith of the Seven, a lady with a driven purpose for the greater good to the Gods in the Sept. Her fate is supposed to be hers and hers alone.

Her dignity, her honor, her virtue and morals, one that inspires love and peace.

Within this darkness, how will the bask of sun shine her with comfort—living in suffocation. How will she live?

Rigid walls greeted her when her eyes were open. Where is she? Her stomach ached with a sharp jab. What has transpired for your fate to be trapped in a lonesome room with no sunlight, no candles, no sound and touch of breeze gliding through the windows? The windows were shut—no, you were confined.

Like the light, her hope has dimmed, and the shadows of her qualms and debate within her outlive. In this darkness, no one was present to succor her distress. The tattered clothing on your sleeves dampened from tears she shed.

No mother or father or sisters to guide her back home.

No servant or subject would come to her aid.

No guard to escort her out of the darkened room that has confined her to flee.

No sound of laughter, or talk amongst folks and lively music she had grown accustomed to.

The air is vacant. No one is to hear the voice but hers and the walls. And the door is locked. No way of escape.

The world felt so small and cramped, you weren’t sure if your life has been meaningful. Surely the Gods were testing you in this challenge.

The peace didn’t last when a heavy oak door boomed with long croak shattered the silence, flames pierced onto your sleepy eyes, until you met the eye of a certain shadow looming over her.

Several Months Ago….

It is said that the Gods had given grace to someone holy and pious. But you were the most holy and pious of all.

But it wasn't pious and holiest reputation.

With a gift you possessed, you managed to capture everyone's hearts, even the look of your beauty. But a song is what entranced every noble and ladies and children alike--at every occasion--namesdays, feasts and tourneys, and at every private and bond between families. Lords and ladies in every kingdom requested for you to commemorate on their special day.

Your song was a gift of light. A song in your voice is a gift of your heart and feast for the soul. A heart so pure and ethereal, that even men would swoon with tears.

You sang an eternal hymn, a hymn of love. A stellar performance like yours is not like any other--light and airy and amongst the heavens.

Since the days of wisdom, you are the most beautiful princess in all of Westeros, titled as ‘Golden Rose—the Rose In Winter and Sun’, ‘A Rose Never Wilted’—as you were born under a chilled winter under a golden sun, hence the given title. You’re the youngest of all Tyrell daughters.

Guests and family members of the court showered you with gifts, jewels, dresses and dolls that is twice as heavy and shiny with importance. Since when you were a child, you are cheery and bright; cheeks flush with health, as you grew older, your mind is constant with wit and daydream.

You have it all.

A gifted wit such as you shouldn’t be cast aside for a nobleman—whether handsome or hideous, young or old, sick or healthy—and to decay as a mother and a widow. And with your wit, you were also pious. Pious and cautious. For a young woman such as yourself, you’re wiser than others.

With every letter the suitors have sent have been casted into the hearth. Sometimes when suitors visited the kingdom, they would often asked of your presence, which you turned a blind eye.

Men.

Men are close to define as a unhinged beast.

Men are vile—filthy as if men are created from Seven Hells. Men are creatures that are made of fire and lust. Marriage is the death sentence to women as men being dutiful as killers and swordsmen at Night’s Watch, with their cocks gelded and their flesh smeared in sin. A woman’s body is as holy as the Sept, must be preserved and clean and mustn’t be driven with temporary hunger. The thought of your virtue being soiled by a man disgusts you, almost a phantom pain summoned between your legs, jab like a sharp knife. You shall never be clean again—overripe and tainted.

Undesirable, one which you can’t undo, with a child born in a mother’s belly was a monstrous and vile thing to give from an unmarried and unfaithful man—a beast hungered and scorched, burnt into the ashes of regret, unable to reverse the damage has been done. Frightened of a soiled reputation, as to avoid death, you must remain healthy with vigor.

You witness to all noble ladies, to whoever they consummate or shared pleasure with they’ve spent in secret upon a high nightfall, with their pleasurable sighs and moans, coming on their high, neglecting their noble duties, or how they gave a painful birth, you tend to avoid converse your peers and stayed inside, wandering in the gardens with flowers blooming just for you, as the canary birds chirped you’ve found yourself with reading or sewing or tending the birds in your pass time.

Most noble folks mistook you as shy, but in your heart, its grimace and resentment. At this rate, the noble ladies will likely to gain bastards than those with natural birthright.

No, it was never your destiny to tarnish.

You must remain pure.

With a life like yours, it’s perfect.

Almost.

House Tyrell has thrived since the dawn of time—the Age of Heroes and survived through fiery battles and clashing swords and broken oaths, traitor after traitor. Vows reformed and ruined by the likes of men’s lusty thoughts from their lusty cocks. House Tyrell went through all. How Tyrells became resilience is all thanks to lessons from experience—had been passed down generations to newcomers that breathed their first air.

Through beauty, through grace. Tyrells are clever and winsome and sly. Flower among flowers. But with flower with thorns are all the more dangerous.

It is said that your beauty is the fairest of all fairs. The day when you’re born, it is said you are bestowed by the Gods of Old and New. Since you were a child, all families brought together in peace. With you as a babe in a cradle, you are precious that when you were a child, you tend with animals and planted seed in the garden for flowers to blossom, for the grass become greener and brighter and clearer in the air. Sometimes you even sang hymns to the injured--animals, more particularly, to ease the frantic emotion that has been emulating.

But those are the days of past.

For years, you have not experienced duty, but all is thrive with a command with a snap of your fingers or whines in your voice to command. For someone young, courtship and marriage is not your intention. Your intentions are made clear to all with prying ears: you would never soil yourself to be bind by dutiful marriage and loveless vows.

But you, as of now, you are made to forge your own destiny. With beauty and grace, you remained to use cleverness for greater good. When you have been informed of the lords’ son wanted your hand, you declined his offer—an offer of negligence and ignorant bliss. That is when your mother resented you.

"Selfish," they all said.

"Cold and calculating," others concluded.

"A conceited bitch," the other men--who have once looked at you with admiration, muttered in between gossip.

Like flowers, beauty and life of love never lasts.

"She mustn't do this," your mother objected. "A young girl like her doesn't know what she wants. She preserve her status as a princess until she gives birth to children and cherish--remain loyal to her husband. That is her future accomplishment. Her reputation amongst men will be tarnish for eternity if she does this. Some men are turning away from her. There's still a chance to remedy this! We must remedy, we must!"

"We have other daughters, my love," your father said with a tender smile. "They have potential to be married off to the suitors. All of our daughters are kind and diligent."

"But all are not as pretty and useful at their talents as she," your mother remarked, as the father's smile died. "She can't be spending her days in the Sept for the rest of her life. I have confiscated all of the books, locked them away so she wouldn't suggest or spark an idea. A woman's mind is as clear as a man's mind. One must give as a future mother and wife. What good are the other daughters for, if they cannot be as achievable as she?"

"This is the fate I choose," you reasoned your father, in determinable rage. "I must do this."

And so, you cast aside the crown, the future prospects of awaiting suitors, who constantly want your hand in marriage of great alliances, and transformed as a septa. Like your mother, few other members of the Tyrell family objected, but your father had the last say and committed to a subjugation of your apply for a challenging task. Although your father and older sisters and brothers shared their support, your mother's intentions are quite clear as it did everyone else's.

As the matter has settled, your mother stopped you midway. "You will regret, for that there are many dangers beyond the threshold. You shall die alone, and no one to love you. The knowledge in books meant nothing to a woman. Books will only give you delusions of idea and that inspires no love but the selfish dreams that you're meant to fail," she hissed.

She's no rose, but a serpent that leeches the flesh.

"I always knew that you're an insipid witch who inspires no love but resentment, as of others. I must remain clean and pious, ever virtuous and benign. I hope you remain bitter and ugly, so that you die alone in your bed, no one to love you. You have killed the love from my father and my siblings, for I want no part with the likes of you," you told her, and barged out at the doors.

Perhaps your thorns are sharper than theirs.

And so, the raven sent a word from the capital, and by dawn—days later—your status is disposed and born anew as Septa (Y/N), and said your farewells and head off, afar from Highgarden with a single tear dropped on your face, as you recalled your grandmother’s words.

Growing strong.

"Farewell, my family, my home, my life, my garden, my comfort..." is all you uttered.

~*~

In King’s Landing, the capital since the dawn of time—has reconstructed and instructed under Aegon I, the most well-known infamous dragonlord that one day overshadow Westeros with a dragon and fury, as well as Visenya with her stubborn grit, and Rhaenys with her peace and wit. Once upon a time, King’s Landing used to be called Aegon’s Fort, but before Aegon’s Fort, it simply used to be a giant forest. Until all three of the dragonlords’ combination of their superb qualities and giant beasts, they’re unstoppable. Therefore, it’d be wise to bow down and surrender, if not, you’d be burn with dragon flame.

Rumor has it when living in King’s Landing, you can afford all the things and wealth and status you desire, even for being a prostitute in one of the inns at Street of Silk, but you intended to avoid filthy things altogether.

Other whispers you’ve heard is the Green Queen, Alicent Hightower, often visited in the Sept. Queen Alicent shed her blood through heretics on praying to her gods for salvation, whatever it may be, prayers to Gods are as sacred as a woman’s maidenhead. Somehow you felt it was out of duty to remain clean, or rebuke the filth to remain clean.

Since the days you have resided in a newfound residence within a glorified kingdom, you immersed your time on tending the orphans and the sick, you tend to your prayers and studies, sometimes tutoring the commoners and bastards and nobles alike—sunrise until sunset. Sometimes the children liked it when you sang them to keep them distract in daytime, or when you sang to them in sleep, for they have no parents to guide them in the land of sin.

In your private quarters, you summoned the belongings you treasured in your luggage—several books, a ring and a doll. There are times where you have missed your family dearly in your heart. Dresses exchanged with robes, your shining hair draped and tucked by veil.

Every once in a while, in your sleep, when an overwhelmed perception intruded in your blank state of mind, you pressed the porcelain glass doll in between your breasts, stroking it’s stringed hair and embraced it tightly.

Somehow, you felt the doll is alive each time you spoke to it, sometimes sang, pretending to be as your family member. You are alone in the capital, but you will outlive the loneliness. But that feeling of loneliness spread, tears dropped, your heart hitched and clenched as if someone’s fingers pressured onto the bleeding organ in your chest after ripping your ribcage open.

"Please stay close to me, stay close to me, my beloved, for the garden has grown cold without you," as you sang to the doll.

Each time your heart beats, the bell tolled in your ears and head on a slumbering nocturnal hour. In an otherworldly place, on the vast side afar from your former homeland, the bells reminded that King’s Landing is your new home.

Every now and then, you sent letters to your family. Every letter they sent gave you a sense of pride and joy--mostly your father, but only to be address as "Your Lord" instead of "Your Father". And every letter, there was a trinket of love that your father shared. And each time you lay on your bedside, you read their letters repeatedly until you lulled to slumber.

But as of late, you gained no response from them. For whatever reason, you kept on writing letters to them.

To think of a good and peaceful life, think of prosperity and glory to your prayers, guidance to a fulfilled wisdom and grace and flourish as the purest soul to fly within Seven Heavens above is the only way after passing on from a life of blood and lust and wretched souls that are beyond saving.

Days had been busied, and days had been hectic and tedious. Shutting your eyes in prayer in front of a grand statue, mouthing prayers in your mouth that you knew by heart. Each time you utter another thought, tears threatened to spill once more.

But you hardened your consciousness and pressed on.

~*~

One day, when dismissed from duties, you ought to find time a seclusion away from books and scriptures—lessons you have dealt with rambunctious children and spiteful elderly on the other side of city. You attended there, tending needs and care for animals, as well. Tending to endless hours seems forever, no way of escape for isolation.

But alas, you found solace under a spare time on a new night--and you have done this several times in several night previously. The area is empty but the walls adorned in fresh red roses and outgrown vines, reminded you of your garden. It was perfect. Surrounded in a garden, light of moonlight pooled behind the tree. On a marbled bench you sat, you resumed with your stitching of a canary, and sang a song from a book you've last read.

The birds chirped alongside yours, as it remain peace, but melancholy. But with the company of feathered friends, you remain your heart steady and true. You have chosen this life.

But as of late, you grew self-conscious, wondering if anyone was spying on you, in case you didn't do your duty to serve the Gods. Therefore, the passing hour has grown dark and departed from a secluded area.

~*~

The underground tunnels of King's Landing was all but darkness. But with a torch placed upon the walls stirred a bit ease to your liking. You ought to company other sisters back to the main ground.

As of now, you didn't like walking alone, as your thoughts remained at the last converse with your mother.

"You will regret, for that there are many dangers beyond the threshold. You shall die alone, and no one to love you. The knowledge in books meant nothing to a woman. Books will only give you delusions of idea and that inspires no love but the selfish dreams that you're meant to fail."

Immediately snapping out of your dreary thoughts, you marched onward with a sewing fabric clutched to your chest. Tunnels rumbled and echoed from your footsteps, as you saw a glimpse of small light above you.

You were almost there.

The air in your breath held in as you felt a large hand grasp your mouth and waist, dragging you back in the dark part of the tunnel. Struggle you as fought your way out, your needlework dropped, dragging and trapping you, wedged between the rustic bars. Biting off his fingers, you scurried off, but caught in between his hands again. You bit again and again until he yanked the veil back, released a sharp wail as the scalp on your golden brown hair has tugged in brute force.

As you attempted to turn around, but a lithe and large retaliated by you turning back around. Behind you, the shadow of someone's trousers dropped, and bent you forward. With large hands gripped tight on your waist, felt a hot tip, his hips grinding you, and plunged it all the way in, blood trailing down on your legs.

You cried aloud as the cock jabbing in your slick cunt.

No, no--not my virtue. Anything but my virtue.

A man groaned in satisfaction as he plunged into you, positioned your wrists behind you, hearing the wet splat as his hips snapped harshly to your entrance.

"Please...no..." you begged, cried.

But the man ignored you, a guttural moan pressed onto your ear, a man’s breath panted.

As he reached his high, hot semen spilled, leaving you breathless and beaten. Bruises on your skin swollen with numbness and your hair--the veil undone, your tucked hair loosened with tangle. Leaning forward with your shaken hands support from fall, you didn't spare a moment to shed your tears, as your final thoughts head straight to the culprit. Your eyes dazed in confusion and hurt. Why would someone hurt the person who was trying to heal the weak, and to preserve a restoring peace?

In your last moments of awake, your eyes glimpsed of a shadow strutting down at your direction, and passed out before a chance for you glimpse and run away.

Heavy footsteps caved in.

And the breath withhold loosened as a pair of hands reached you.

Like every flower, they wither.

~*~

In the next hour, you woke up, surrounded by darkness on cold bedside. You trudged at the door, finding out it was locked. Your fists banged against the door, screaming, "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"

Each time you screamed, your tears formed and stuck between your lashes. The tight, cold air caved into your chest, breathing harshly as your hands reached its exhaustion.

Then a pain between your legs had swollen each time you stride vastly back and forth, unsure to grasp the circumstances. It was then you realized one conclusion. Therefore, you tried to find another path, but how could you when you don't know its secrets to where you're standing now? Everything is dark and you're buried with stoned walls, nowhere to run to, or to hide or to tell someone to help you escape and flee from a wretched prison.

Leaning upon the wall, relying on a dimmest light of candle flame, you rested as your back slid downward, pressed against the wall, cuddled your knees to your chest and wept.

Weeping went on, but your hope wasn't lost.

But months went by, as the consciousness in your heart was trying to cooperate, to survive at least for tomorrow and the upcoming of days. You've been fed and clothed and sheltered. But it's not to your content; you yearned for more. There are times where you have sang to yourself, but still ended in tears with no one to hear but your own.

Oh the Gods have been cruel, but the god in your heart sets alight of hope for freedom, finding its way, but you must find a way within a perfect time.

Until one day, in your confined chambers, the dark room lit up until you faced the tall shadow casted before you with a sapphire glinted under the heavy cloak.

A shiver ran down on your neck, knowing who it was.

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[saythenametotheworld]

Closer, Faster [1] | cvnn

Genre: catching feelings; strangers to lovers; smut Synopsis: For good reason, you have forbidden yourself to get emotionally attached to temporary people until Vernon comes walking in and wrecks you to your very core. Pairing: SEVENTEEN Vernon x Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content, what's the opposite of slow burn? LONG FIC! Notes: 22k words, song prompt was Closer, Faster by Against the Current. 22k and it's just the first part? Crazy, ik. I feel the need to explain that the reason I write long fics is because I'm a massive yapper irl

As you walked down the halls of your university, you could hear the campus buzzing with excitement and vibrant energy. Around you, students were rushing to submit final assignments or hurrying from one place to another, taking care of last-minute tasks on the final day of the semester. Some had disheveled hair and tired eyes, while others looked fresh and ready for the summer season.

Walking back to your dorm, you passed groups of friends snapping photos, capturing memories of the past few months. The campus felt like it was collectively exhaling, finally free from the usual chaos of activities. Your belongings were packed up, and your room was now stripped of the personal touches that made it home.

Your roommate, Adie, sat on the edge of her bed across from yours. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, my chariot awaits,” you said with a smile, tossing the last of your belongings into your purse. You exhaled, looking around the room and already missing it. “I guess that’s everything, huh?”

“Yep. You’ve scoured every corner of this room for your stuff. I’m sure you didn’t miss anything.”

You extended your hand to her. “It’s been a blast, roomie.”

Adie rolled her eyes and chuckled as she shook your hand. “You talk like we’ll never see each other again. We both know we’ll end up being roommates again next year, right?”

You shrugged and laughed. She wasn’t lying. You had been roommates with her for two years now. After freshman year, you both agreed to always share a dorm room every semester, and that’s exactly what you had been doing. You might be saying goodbye now, but you would see each other again in the fall semester and be roommates then too.

“So long, roomie.”

Adie waved as you exited the room. “So long, roomie.”

“Stay in touch!” you reminded her.

The flight home was quick, just an hour and a half. Sometimes you wondered why home felt so far away when it was barely a two-hour flight from your school. Everything about your city felt familiar yet new. As your taxi drove you closer to home, the familiar scent of the ocean filled the air, and the salty breeze swept through the open windows. The sight of the coastline, with its rolling waves and sandy shores, brought a rush of nostalgia. After many months away, the beach house where you grew up felt like a warm embrace waiting for you.

When the taxi pulled over by the sidewalk, you stepped out and took in the view, removing your sunglasses. The house looked just as you remembered—a picket-fenced house with whitewashed walls, grey roofs, black shutters, and the sound of seagulls calling in the distance.

You walked through the open gate, hauling your luggage as you scanned the garden for any changes in the flowerbeds or landscaping. The honk of a car horn made you glance back at the road just in time to see a Jeep pull over in front of your house.

You smiled, recognizing the tall brunette stepping out of the driver’s seat. With a wave, you beckoned her over and opened your arms to welcome your best friend with a hug.

“Hello, stranger,” Jade greeted, pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re so late!”

You rolled your eyes. “Unlike you, my education is more demanding and requires every bit of my attention.”

“Sucks to be you, then,” she snickered. “Come on. Your mom and I scheduled a brunch together.”

You scoffed but didn’t need to ask for more details. With her help, you moved your luggage into the house, where your mother greeted you warmly. Over brunch, you talked about school, the journey home, and everything in between. After that, you and Jade climbed up to your room to lounge and chat all morning. In the afternoon, you donned your swimsuits and set umbrellas by the beach, equipped with a book to pass the time and cocktails for an extra bit of fun.

Azure Bay is a picturesque coastal town renowned for its breathtaking beach, attracting locals and tourists alike. The beach itself stretches for miles, with soft, golden sands meeting the crystal-clear waters of the ocean.

During the day, the beach is alive with activity. Families set up colorful umbrellas and picnic blankets, children build intricate sandcastles, and surfers ride the gentle waves. In the evenings, the beach transforms into a serene, romantic getaway. The sky paints a stunning palette of oranges, pinks, and purples as the sun sets over the horizon. Bonfires are a common activity where friends and families gather to toast marshmallows and share stories under the sky. Beachfront bars and cafes are filled with lively music and even livelier tourists.

You never particularly enjoyed the swarm of tourists that descended upon Azure Bay each summer. It wasn't that you disliked them in general; you understood why they were drawn to the town's pristine beaches, charming boardwalk, and the laid-back, coastal vibe that felt like paradise. What irked you were the tourists who tried to flirt with you.

It was always the same story. You'd be walking along the beach, or lounging in a beach bar when some guy would approach you with a confident smile and a cheesy pickup line. They were usually good-looking, and charming in a way that was hard to resist, but you knew better. You have seen too many summer romances that bloomed beautifully only to die out when the season ended.

You disliked the idea of developing a beautiful, intimate connection with someone only to watch them pack up and leave once the summer break was over. The thought of investing your emotions in a fleeting romance, knowing that it had an expiration date, felt pointless.

As much as you tried to avoid it, there were always those moments when a particularly persistent tourist would catch you off guard, like right now as you were sitting on the beach bed reading a book. A tall, tan guy with a surfboard strolled up to you.

"Ooh, looks like you're about to score a European hottie on your first day back," Jade teased, peeking at you over her sunglasses. "Good job, sug."

He introduced himself with a casual "Hey there," and you could see the gleam of interest in his eyes.

"Hi," you smiled back, tilting your head to the side.

"I'm just here to catch some waves," he said, flashing a perfect smile. "But I'd love to catch up with you later, maybe grab a drink?"

You heard Jade scoff and then whistled quietly like she didn't just ridicule the guy. He seemed clueless about it though.

You forced a polite smile, trying to keep your voice neutral. "Thanks, but I'm not really looking to meet anyone right now."

He seemed surprised but didn't push further, thankfully. "Well then, see you around."

He winked at you before jogging back where he came from. As soon as he was out of earshot, you and Jade started laughing.

"What the hell was that?" you chuckled.

Jade took her sunglasses off and smoldered at you. In a deep, manly voice she said, "I'm just here to catch some waves."

You smoldered too, trying your best to replicate the guy's expression and tone. "But I'd love to catch up with you later, grab a drink with me?"

"Oh god! It's always the same old cheesy ass lines!"

The following days were filled with simple, repetitive activities: lounging at home, sunbathing by the beach, reading in peace, and swimming with your mom and Jade. It was a week of mundane routines that you didn’t mind at all, though the same couldn’t be said for Jade.

If there is one thing you both hate and love about your best friend, it is her tendency to come up with crazy ideas when bored. They're fun most of the time, but they often include a side quest for her, which is to set you up with someone.

Four days into the summer break, you were sitting with your back against the headboard of your bed, a book in your hand, listening to Jade complain about being bored.

“There's nothing to do at all!” she groaned, kicking her legs in the air as she scrolled through her phone. “Not one rowdy pool party, or a mixer. Not even a birthday!”

She sat up and huffed. “Has summer always been this boring?”

“No.”

“Right? Not here in Azure Bay! This is like an all-time low.”

You chuckled, adjusting your glasses on the bridge of your nose and not peeling your eyes away from your book. “Relax. Summer break is just starting. I doubt everyone’s back from uni yet.”

“Right. That’s exactly why there’s nothing to do,” she huffed. “Your friends are so boring.”

“They’re your friends too, Jade,” you corrected her, referring to your high school friends from this town.

Jade fell quiet, so you continued reading. Until she suddenly scooted next to you, her eyes lighting up as if she had just had a brilliant idea.

“I have an idea,” she began, smiling brightly. “You’re gonna love this.”

You just shrugged, as if giving her your permission, or support, whichever she might need. She began tapping away on her phone again. When you heard your phone buzz on the bedside table, you put your book down and picked up the phone.

Jade: anyone up for summer break in azure bay?

“That’s your big idea?” you deadpanned, eyeing the chatheads of the people who have read her message in your group chat.

She hummed. “I know. I’m a genius.”

You snorted, scrolling through your phone. “More like impulsive. But go on.”

Jaehyun liked. Adie: Azure Bay? Like your hometown? Jade: yes yes Trina: me! Eunwoo: Me too! Jade: eunwoo, you’re not invited Eunwoo: ???

You scowled. “You can’t not invite Eunwoo. He's already set to come here with your Jaehyun next week, remember?”

“Ah, right, he is,” Jade replied, rolling her eyes.

Jade: jk. But if you hog y/n all to yourself, istg!!! Eunwoo: not my fault she likes me better than you lol

“That’s not true!” Jade hollered at her screen, making you chuckle. She then scowled at you, giving you a suspicious look. “It’s not, is it?”

You shook your head to appease her, though you never really once thought you had to pick a favorite between your two closest friends.

Jade: FALSE Jade: TOTALLY UNTRUE Jade: but dream on, ig Jade: what about the others? Adie? Adie: Here! Also,,,, I think y/n likes me best. Eunwoo: not true Jade: yeah, NOT TRUE! 8: Count me in! Jade: you're only in bcs trin's in 8: lol true

"He's not even denying it. This bitch," Jade sneered, but she was grinning.

Jade: Mingyu? Mingyu liked. Jade: Kim Mingyu?! Mingyu: yes Mingyu: it's not a party without me Jade: i'm sure we'll manage Jade: but okay. you're counted

And so everything was settled. Your friends are coming to spend the summer break with you in your hometown. You can already imagine how fun it’s going to be. Fingers crossed, you hoped this summer would be memorable—the best one yet.

“How’s it going?” you asked, stepping onto the patio with a tray of food while your mom was setting the table.

“Good, I hope,” she replied, staring at the dining table set up with furrowed brows. “Do you think that spot looks a little—I don’t know… empty?”

You inspected the spot she was pointing to and giggled. “That’s because that spot is for the enchiladas,” you chimed in, placing the tray you were carrying on the table.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

You gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm. “Relax, Mom. I’m sure they’ll love it.”

She sighed, smiling apologetically. “I feel bad about not letting them stay.”

“It’s alright, Mom. We understand,” you reassured her. “And Jade’s got it covered. Their house will be empty for a month anyway, so she doesn’t mind housing our friends all summer.”

When you discussed accommodations with Jade, you considered offering to let a friend or two stay with you, but your mom didn’t agree. She was working on a big project, and you knew better than to burden her with strangers disrupting her concentration and clutter. This dinner party was her idea, her way of apologizing to your friends. She didn’t have to, but she insisted, saying she didn’t want them to think you were unwelcoming.

“Hello, hello,” Jade greeted when you opened the main door in response to the doorbell.

“Hi!” you greeted back, ushering them in and giving each of your friends a hug. They all looked excited, a few even brought gifts for your mom. Minghao and Trina had prepared an actual gift box, Adie was carrying a bottle of wine, and Eunwoo had a bouquet of flowers.

As you moved aside to let everyone in, you noticed Mingyu standing with someone you didn’t recognize.

“Hello, Gyu,” you said, giving him a quick hug. “Who’s this?”

“This is Vernon,” Mingyu introduced, clapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “He’s my roommate's classmate. Had nothing going on for summer break, so I thought I’d bring him along.”

“Your roommate’s classmate. Mr. Congeniality is at it again, I see,” you sneered, teasing your friend. To Vernon, you smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you, Vernon. Welcome to Azure Bay!”

“Thanks,” Vernon replied, smiling back a little shyly. “Nice to meet you too.”

You were intrigued by Vernon but didn’t question his presence further. Instead, you guided everyone to the patio where the table was beautifully set. Your mom greeted each guest warmly, expressing her gratitude for their gifts.

“Wow, this looks amazing!” Trina exclaimed as she took her seat.

“Thanks, Trina. I hope you all brought your appetites,” your mom said with a grin.

As everyone settled in, the conversations started to flow naturally. The aroma of delicious food filled the air, as well as laughter and lively chatter.

“So, Vernon, Mingyu’s roommate’s classmate,” Jade began, leaning forward with a curious look. “How did you even end up being friends with that guy?”

Mingyu scowled at Jade, looking indignant but he couldn’t retort because there was food in his mouth.

Vernon chuckled. “His roommate Jungwoo and I are in a class together. I hung out in their dorm room a lot when we were working on a project. Mingyu’s great, honestly. Keeps the place lively. Plus, he’s always cooking up something interesting.”

Mingyu laughed. “Hey, someone’s got to make sure we don’t starve!”

“I’ve heard about your cooking skills, Mingyu. My daughter said you can rival my cooking,” your mother said, playfully raising an eyebrow. “You’ll have to make us something while you’re here.”

“Ma’am, your mind will be blown. Deal!” Mingyu agreed, grinning.

As the meal continued, you found yourself sneaking glances at Vernon, who seemed to be fitting in well with your group. He was quiet but contributed thoughtfully to the conversations.

As the evening wound down, Jade clapped her hands together excitedly. “Alright, guys, now that we’re all well-fed, who’s ready to hit the party?”

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What party?”

“The one at the beach!” Jade exclaimed. “Apparently, a bunch of people from our high school are throwing a welcome-back bash. I thought it’d be the perfect way to kick off the summer.”

“I didn’t know about this,” you said, glancing at the others.

“Sounds like a good time,” Vernon added, looking curious.

You smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Alright, let’s do it. It’ll be nice to see everyone again.”

“Great!” Jade said, practically bouncing with energy. “Let’s clean up here and head out.”

With everyone pitching in, the cleanup was quick and efficient. Soon, you were all ready to head to the beach, anticipation buzzing in the air. As you stepped out into the warm night, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something about this party would catch you off-guard.

“It’s okay, y/n,” Jade beamed at you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “No need to worry too much. It’s just Winwin.”

You gasped audibly, stopping in your tracks as you stared dumbfounded at Jade, your mouth still hanging open. “You sneaky little—”

“Jaehyun, baby! Wait for me!” she called out to her boyfriend before running to him.

The thought of going to a party and seeing an ex you hadn't seen in a long time was far from enjoyable. You stood there in shock, wondering if it was too late to turn back. Just then, Eunwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder and gently nudged you forward.

“Are you okay?” he asked, striding with his long legs and dragging you with him.

“Fine. That was ages ago anyway so,” you replied nervously.

“What do you mean?” Eunwoo questioned curiously. You sighed and gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, shit. Winwin is gonna be there, isn’t he?”

“Who’s Winwin?” Mingyu questioned, appearing on your other side with Vernon.

“Keep your nosy ass out of my business, okay?” you chided, pointing your index finger at him.

Mingyu laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.”

You caught Vernon glancing at you with curiosity in his eyes. Then Mingyu tapped his chest and said, “Azure parties are awesome.” 

Vernon smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. “Let’s hurry there then,” he suggested lightly.

As you all walked down the beach path, the sound of music and laughter grew louder. The beach was lit up with string lights and a bonfire, casting a warm glow over the gathering crowd. You could see familiar faces from high school, mingling and enjoying the summer night.

Trina and Minghao were already dancing near the bonfire, and you saw Jade and Jaehyun chatting with a group of old classmates. Adie was by the snack table, happily munching away, and Eunwoo was making his way to the drinks station.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to dive in and make the best of it. You spotted a quieter corner near the shoreline and made your way there. Vernon tagged along, but kept a respectful distance, allowing you space.

“Not a fan of big crowds?” he asked, glancing at the bustling party.

“Not really,” you admitted. “I prefer smaller gatherings. Less chaotic.”

“Hmmh, I see,” Vernon hummed, nodding.

“You?” you asked back just to be polite. “I doubt you disliked the crowd.”

“What makes you think so?” he questioned.

“You’re friends with Mingyu. I mean… Mingyu is you know… Mingyu. Life of the party. If you’re close to him, I figured you might be the same,” you explained as you both watched Mingyu take over the entire party.

Vernon looked puzzled but intrigued. “But he’s your friend too, right? And yet I don’t see any similarities between you.”

“Ah,” you blurted, chuckling. “Good point.”

Vernon chuckled, his laughter warm and genuine. He was about to say something more when a group of familiar faces approached. Recognizing some high school friends, you greeted them warmly.

“Elise!” you called, standing up to hug her. “Harper too. Wow, I thought you girls would never show up.”

As the night went on, you mingled with old friends, danced around the bonfire, and even managed to enjoy yourself. At one point, you found yourself standing by the drinks table when you spotted Winwin approaching. Your heart skipped a beat, but you decided to face it head-on.

“Hey, y/n,” Winwin greeted with a smile, holding a cup of punch. “Long time no see.”

“Hi, Win,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good, actually. I just got back from uni yesterday. How about you?”

“Same here. I’m back for the summer too,” you said, feeling more relaxed as the conversation flowed naturally.

Winwin grinned. “Cool. It’s great to see you. We should catch up properly some time.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed, surprised at how friendly the interaction was.

As Winwin moved on to talk to someone else, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You joined the bonfire again, where your friends were gathered, their faces illuminated by the warm, flickering glow of the flames.

Jade spotted you and waved you over. “Hey, come sit with us!” she called, patting the sand next to her.

You sat down, feeling the heat of the fire on your skin. The conversation flowed easily, with laughter and playful banter filling the air. Then you found yourself standing by the drinks table again, pouring yourself another cup of the spiked punch.

“Hello again!” Winwin approached you again, a friendly smile on his face. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, it’s been great,” you replied, smiling back. “How about you?”

“Me?” he quipped, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ve had six bottles of beer and maybe a liter of this punch.”

You laughed heartily, deeply humored. You and Winwin fell into an easy conversation, reminiscing about old times and catching up on what had happened since you last saw each other. His laughter was contagious, and soon you found yourself giggling until your cheeks were sore.

“Remember that time in high school when we snuck out to the beach at midnight?” Winwin asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh my god, yes!” you laughed. “And we got caught by the patrol officer. I thought we were going to get into so much trouble.”

“But we didn’t,” Winwin said, grinning. “We talked our way out of it. Good times.”

“Definitely,” you agreed, feeling a warm sense of nostalgia.

A burst of giggles made your heads turn in unison. From where you stood, you saw Vernon surrounded by girls, all of them smiling and giggling at something he said. Your eyes met his gaze, catching you off guard. Vernon just smiled and gave you an acknowledging nod.

“I see you made a lot of new friends,” Winwin prompted.

“Yeah, thank god. I had zero idea how to navigate life in a completely different school, and an entirely different city,” you replied, rolling your eyes in frustration. “Good thing Jade was there. These people basically found me first.”

“I knew you’d fare well. You’re an amiable person,” he complimented.

“Amiable?” you snorted. “That’s a nice word.”

Winwin shrugged and then clinked his glass with yours. “I learned plenty of big words in college.”

That comment made you laugh again while Winwin watched you fondly with a proud expression as if he was satisfied with his own humor that made you laugh. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe he was just genuinely funny. You weren’t so sure, but you knew you were having a good time.

“Hi,” Vernon prompted, suddenly appearing beside you and making you shriek.

“Oh, god, Vernon,” you scolded, clutching your chest in shock and laughing at the same time.

“Having fun?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Just reminiscing about high school and stuff,” Winwin explained with a chuckle.

“Oh, sounds interesting,” Vernon said, grabbing a cup of punch. “Anything I should know about?”

“Only that we were quite the troublemakers back in the day,” you said with a wink.

“Is that so?” Vernon said, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll have to keep an eye on you then.”

You laughed and nudged his arm with your elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ve mellowed out since then.”

“Good to know,” Vernon said, smiling. To Winwin, he said, “By the way, you were great at charades earlier.”

“Thanks,” Winwin replied, a little confused by the unexpected compliment. “I had a good time.”

“Hey, I scored the highest, but you’re complimenting him?” you complained to Vernon who just shrugged.

“He’s the one acting it out,” he retorted so you scoffed.

“Unbelievable!”

The conversation continued with Vernon and Winwin exchanging jokes and stories. It felt natural and comfortable, like catching up with old friends. As the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, enjoying the company and the atmosphere.

Eventually, the party started winding down. You glanced around at your friends, feeling a sense of contentment. This summer was shaping up to be better than you had expected. As you walked back towards the bonfire, you felt a flicker of curiosity about Vernon. He was unexpectedly fun and you found yourself vibing with him easily. At the back of your mind, you hope he’s not trying to hit on you or something. After all, this was just another summer. A great summer with the potential to be your best yet, but still just another summer.

The next morning, you woke up at Jade’s house, tired and hungover but still rising early. You slipped quietly out of Adie’s assigned bedroom, careful not to disturb her sleep. Outside the room, you tiptoed down the hallway, making sure not to wake anyone else.

“Leaving already?” a voice called from the balcony, startling you so much that you dropped your shoes on the wooden floorboards.

The sound echoed through the house, and you froze, hand over your mouth, listening intently to see if anyone had been woken. Vernon blinked at you, clearly puzzled by your reaction.

“Are you okay?” he asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Yes, I’m fine!” you whispered urgently, pressing a finger to your lips to signal for silence. “Be quiet, will you? You're gonna wake everyone up."

He shrugged and stood up from the chair he was sitting on, approaching you. “Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah. I need to take a shower,” you replied, feeling grimy and imagining how you must smell after a night out. You eyed him curiously and saw he was wearing fresh clothes. “Why are you up so early?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Just felt like it.”

“No hangover or anything?” you questioned, surprised by his chipper demeanor.

“Nah, I’m good,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Lucky you,” you muttered as you continued down the stairs, Vernon trailing behind. “As for me, I need to go home and pass out. Gosh.”

“Don’t you need a ride?”

“I’ll grab a cab. It’s not that far,” you replied.

“Do you have food there?”

“What?” you asked, thinking you’d misheard him.

“Food,” he repeated.

You blinked at him, puzzled. Vernon just stood there, looking clueless yet endearing in the morning light.

“Food?” you repeated, and he nodded. “Yes, we have food. Why?”

His face lit up. “Can I come with you?”

Now you’re even more confused. “Why?”

“Oh, I woke up early and I looked for food in the kitchen but there wasn’t anything ready to eat. Nothing easy to cook either.” He flattened his lips together before adding, “I’m hungry.”

You chuckled at his straightforwardness. “Come on then.”

With that, Vernon grinned and followed you out the door, the morning sun casting long shadows on the quiet street. Your house was quiet when you arrived, but the windows were open, and the curtains were drawn, a clear telling that your mom had already started her morning. Leading Vernon inside, you caught sight of your mom in her office, her attention momentarily diverted from her computer as she noticed your arrival.

“You’re back so early! Did you have breakfast yet?” she called out, her voice carrying through the house.

“Actually,” you began, glancing back at Vernon behind you. “No, I haven’t.”

“Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t know you’d be back early, so nothing’s prepared in the kitchen,” she replied from her desk.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll whip something up. Oh, and I've got a friend with me,” you added.

“Oh, you do? Silly me,” she chuckled, standing up and heading towards the door of her office. “Make something nice for your friend, okay? I have work that I need to finish by today.”

“Sure thing,” you affirmed, smiling as she closed the door. “Would you like me to bring you food in there?”

You heard her muffled response. “No, baby. I’ve already eaten!”

“Wow, okay. Not a baby anymore,” you muttered to yourself, feeling a slight flush of embarrassment. Turning back to Vernon, you said, “Do you mind waiting while I go freshen up?”

“I don’t mind,” he replied, settling onto the couch and pulling out his phone.

You took a quick shower and got dressed comfortably. As you headed to the kitchen, you mentally surveyed the ingredients available, already formulating a plan for breakfast. Vernon followed you when he saw you, his presence bringing a comfortable energy to the space.

“So, what’s your specialty?” Vernon asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with genuine curiosity.

“Hmm, I’d say my omelets are pretty decent,” you replied, pulling out eggs and vegetables from the refrigerator. “But today, I’m thinking scrambled eggs with toast. What do you think?”

“I eat anything and everything,” Vernon said with a grin, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

As you chopped vegetables and cracked eggs into a bowl, you engaged in light conversation, discussing topics ranging from favorite foods to travel destinations. It was easy, effortless, and surprisingly enjoyable.

Before you knew it, the eggs were sizzling in the pan, filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma. The toast came out perfectly golden, and you served two plates of food, setting one in front of Vernon and the other across from him.

“Thanks so much,” he said, smiling as he picked up his fork.

“Do you know what’s the plan for today?” you asked, taking a bite of your breakfast.

Vernon shrugged. “Swimming.”

Your eyes flicked to the patio where the outdoor pool glistened. “At Jade’s house?”

He shook his head. “I think she mentioned the beach. Some of the guys want to try surfing.”

“Oh, so they’re heading here today,” you said, glancing out toward the shoreline. “The perfect spot for surfing is right outside this house.”

“I see. So I can just wait for them here?”

“You could, but don’t you need your gear?”

“If you mean my surfing gear, I don’t have any.”

You scowled playfully. “Then how do you plan to surf?”

“I’m hoping if I walk along the beach, I’ll find a rental shop or something.”

You chuckled. “You don’t need a rental.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you said proudly, nodding.

Once the kitchen was tidied up, you led Vernon to the backyard and showed him the shed where you kept your swimming and surfing gear. He looked impressed by the collection of surfboards, wetsuits, and even fishing equipment.

“Do you surf?” he asked and you rolled your eyes. There are at least five boards in that shed, shouldn’t it be obvious enough?

“Do I?” you quipped. “Yeah, I do. Did. I haven’t surfed in a long time.”

“Why not?” He reached for a purple board, carefully pulling it from the rack.

“I just lost interest. No grand reason behind it. My dad taught me how to surf but we haven’t done it in a long time so… yeah,” you trailed off, watching him put the board back where it belonged.

“You still remember how, right?” he asked, and you just shrugged. Then his eyes lit up as he spotted something. “Is that a spear?”

“Oh, that’s my dad’s,” you said, pushing the fishing gear further back into the shed. “He used to do a lot of spearfishing.”

“Cool.”

Your brows furrowed. “Cool? Didn't you say you were an environmentalist?”

“Spearfishing is fine as long as it’s practiced responsibly and with respect to local regulations and conservation efforts.”

You nodded in acknowledgment. “I see. Well, in that case, my dad is a pretty responsible fisher. He used to be the head of the coastal preservation council here.”

“Your dad sounds really cool. Is he around?”

“He is cool,” you said, smiling proudly. “But no, he’s not here right now.”

“I see,” Vernon replied, leaning against the shed door as he watched you rummage through the items. As you were looking through the snorkeling box, you accidentally knocked over another box and sent the contents spilling all over the floor.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, picking up the items on the floor. Vernon was quick to help you, chuckling.

“What are these?” he asked, examining the surfwax bars.

“It’s surfwax. You rub it all over the surfboard so you don’t slip,” you explained, taking the stuff from his hand to pack it away. When it was done, you lifted the box to put it back on the shelf.

Vernon chuckled softly. “Here, let me.” Before you could protest, he reached out and took the box from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, stepping back to give him space. But instead of moving away, Vernon stepped closer, his focus entirely on the shelf as he lifted the box into place.

You felt a sudden rush of shyness as his arm brushed against your shoulder, the proximity making your heart skip a beat. The scent of his cologne, fresh and woodsy, filled the air between you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Is this the right spot?” he asked, glancing down at you with a smile, completely unaware of the effect his closeness had on you.

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing. “That’s perfect.”

Vernon adjusted the box, making sure it was secure before stepping back. But instead of moving away, he turned to face you, his face just inches from yours. You could see the tiny flecks of gold in his big brown eyes, and the playful smile that often danced on his lips. The room seemed to grow quieter, the moment stretching as you both stood there. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the unexpected closeness.

“Are you okay?” he asked, startling you so you took a step back. In doing so, you kicked the foot of the shelf and knocked over a bucket sitting on top of it. Cool water splashed all over you and Vernon, making you gasp in shock.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, patting his shirt as if it would help dry him in any way.

Vernon looked down at his soaked self and chuckled. “That’s one way to cool off.”

“Oh, god. Why is there a bucket of water in here?” You looked up at the top of the shelf and noticed a small dot of light pouring from a hole in the roof. “That hole seriously needs patching up. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“It’s fine. We’ll go swimming later anyway,” said Vernon, squeezing water out of his shirt.

“But I don’t know for how long that water’s been sitting there,” you said shyly. It may be just rainwater but you know it hasn’t rained in Azure Bay for more than a week now.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, realization dawning on him.

“Follow me.”

You led him to the poolside, pointing to the outdoor shower. “You can rinse off there. I’ll find a towel and something for you to wear while your clothes dry.”

“Ah, how convenient.” Vernon smiled gratefully. “Thanks, y/n.”

As he rinsed off, you quickly fetched a towel and a spare pair of shorts from the poolside storage. You were drenched too, but you can rinse off in your bathroom upstairs. In the meantime, you headed back to Vernon with the spare clothes and the towel.

You approached the shower area, holding out the towel and shorts. “Here you go—” The words died in your throat as you caught sight of Vernon, his shirt already off, revealing a well-toned torso glistening with water. He turned, surprised, and for a moment, you were both frozen.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, taking the towel from you, a shy smile spreading across his face.

You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly turned away, trying to steady your racing heart. “The, uh... The washer is by the kitchen. You can throw your clothes in the dryer.”

"Alright."

"Right. I'll let you finish up."

You hurried inside, your mind swirling with the unexpected sight of Vernon. As you headed to your bathroom, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite name. After a quick shower, you changed into dry clothes and took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself.

When you returned to the poolside, Vernon was lounging on a chair, wearing the shorts you’d given him and toweling off his hair. He looked up and grinned.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his face and not letting it wander on his bare chest. “Yeah. You?”

“Much better,” he replied, still smiling. “Thanks for the help. I guess I owe you one.”

You waved it off, smiling back. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Right,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You heard car horns honking from outside so you told Vernon to feel at home before heading to the gate. As expected, it was your friends arriving for the surfing thing they had planned for today.

“Fucking finally,” you muttered, trying to level your head after the tense events that transpired with Vernon.

“Vernon? Why, what’s up with him?” Jade inquired after you asked her about Vernon.

“Nothing. He’s just…” you paused, trying to find the right word. “...intriguing.”

“Intriguing? Interesting choice of word, y/n,” Trina teased, hitting your waist with hers as you both stood in front of your full-length mirror to see how your bikinis looked.

“I think she meant he’s cute and she’s interested,” Adie taunted from your bed.

You rolled your eyes at them. “I’m just curious, alright? Aren’t you? I mean, he’s new and we barely know him.”

“Oh, I do know him,” Trina said. “He’s friends with Hao too, you know. His name is actually Hansol Chwe.”

“Hansol Chwe?” you repeated curiously.

“Yeah. But Vernon is his english name. He’s actually a sophomore and he transferred from… I’m not sure where, but he’s a new student,” Trina continued.

Jade snapped his fingers. “Then it makes sense that he hasn’t hung out with us until now. He’s a neophyte.”

“So, what about him intrigues you, y/n?” Trina asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“Did you two have a cutesy romcom-ish morning together?” Adie accused, pointing at you. “He had breakfast here, right?”

Jade interjected. “Or did you hook up while we were passed out at home?”

You gasped, scandalized. “What? Hook up? What do you take me for?”

“Ah, so you didn’t.”

“Did you make out while you were alone here or something?” Trina asked.

“You guys are crazy,” you told them, heading for the door. “We didn’t do any of that. We just ate, that’s all.”

“It was a cutesy romcom-ish morning, then,” Adie giggled, trailing behind you.

“It was not that either,” you insisted. “I’m done talking about this. He’s just another guy.”

Right, he is. A handsome guy, for sure, but he’s just another pretty guy. You’ve met countless pretty guys. Hot guys have flirted with you several times, especially on this beach. You’re friends with pretty guys. And you have, most certainly, seen them walk around topless plenty of times. Eunwoo is a literal angel. Jaehyun and Minghao are eye candies. And did you see Mingyu’s physique? You are literally surrounded by hot guys that you don’t even bat an eye on anymore.

So why is it that you can’t look at the topless Vernon without your heart skipping a beat?

“Y/n, come here!” your girlfriends called out from the shore. You just waved your arms, not even moving an inch from where you were comfortably seated.

On one side of the bay, you could see the boys on the surfboards, paddling on the calm waters since the tide wasn’t high enough for surfing. Vernon was making his way towards you, leaving the board on the sand.

“Reading while everyone’s having fun? Are you not like other girls?” he quipped, standing next to the beach bed where you were reading a book.

“I simply just had enough saltwater,” you replied nonchalantly, hiding your nervousness behind your big sunglasses.

“So, not like other girls?” he repeated, sitting on the beach bed next to yours. 

You chuckled lightly. “Trust me, Hansol, I’m just like every other girl.”

“Hansol?”

You glanced sideways at him. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“It is, but no one calls me that,” he replied. “You can call me Hansol, though.”

“I’m honored,” you retorted, chuckling as you returned your attention to your book. “But I won’t do that. It’s not like we’re close or anything.”

“How close do you need us to be?” he asked. You glanced back at him, just in time to see him lean closer, stopping just a few inches away so your noses don’t touch. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying not to stutter. You could only hope that your sunglasses were dark enough for him not to see your eyes.

A mischievous glint flickered in Vernon's eyes as he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Is this close enough?”

“Move back,” you whispered, barely audible because you were sure you’d kiss if you so much as breathe.

He obeyed, slumping back on the beach bed with a content smile. Only then did you breathe properly again. Irritated, you stood up and walked away, leaving your book behind. After several steps, you glanced back to see Vernon had taken your book and was now reading it.

“She’s coming this way!” Adie shouted, pointing at you as your friends turned to look.

Eunwoo and Mingyu rushed out of the water, their eyes twinkling with mischief. Recognizing their intentions, you started running along the shore to escape them. But your limbs were no match for their long strides. They eventually caught up to you, and Mingyu swooped you up by the waist. Shrieking and kicking your legs in the air, you cursed at him, but he ignored you completely and leaped into the water with you.

Your splash into the cool water was met with laughter from everyone around. The initial shock of the cold quickly gave way to the exhilarating fun of being in the water. Mingyu's grip loosened, allowing you to find your footing in the shallow water, though you were already drenched from head to toe.

“Eunwoo, you traitor!” you called out, splashing water at him.

He laughed, dodging your attempts. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re a slow runner!”

Vernon eventually waded into the water, holding one of your flip-flops above his head. “Look what I saved from the water!”

“Give it back!” you demanded, wading toward him.

He grinned, holding it just out of reach. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

It turned into a game of tag, with you chasing Vernon around to retrieve your slipper. After several minutes of playful chaos, you finally managed to snatch it from Vernon’s hand, clutching it triumphantly to your chest. But your victory was short-lived after Jaehyun sneaked up behind you to steal it again.

He held it up, making it impossible for you to reach it. “How long before you can take this from us?”

“Us?” you questioned and Jaehyun responded by tossing the slipper to Minghao, who then threw it to Eunwoo.

The game of tag resumed and continued as your girlfriends joined in, making it a game of Boys vs. Girls. You splashed and chased each other and the beach echoed with laughter and shouts of joy.

After a while, the group tired out and decided to take a break under the beach umbrellas. You spread out towels and settled into the lounge chairs, feeling the sun's warmth on your skin as it dried off the seawater. The boys sat on the towels, discussing the best surf spots and the timing of the tide.

“It should be high tide soon, right?” Jaehyun asked, glancing at you since you were the more experienced surfer in the group, thus making you more well-versed in the tides.

You looked at the sea, and then at your watch. “Yeah, it should be. Look the waves are getting bigger.”

Mingyu whistled excitedly. “It’s going to be epic.”

“Shouldn’t be long now,” you commented, leaning back on the beach bed and closing your eyes.

As you lay there, soaking in the sun and the sound of the waves, Eunwoo turned to you with a playful smile. “You should come out with us and show these newbies how it’s done.”

“Pass,” you deadpanned. “I’m tired.”

“You’ll miss out then,” he countered.

“I’ll get over it.”

“I could teach you,” Vernon offered, making you open your eyes to look at him. He smiled when you caught his gaze, but you just rolled your eyes and wore your sunglasses.

“Hard pass.”

Vernon scoffed, indignant. “What? I’m actually quite good at it.”

“Really? Have fun then,” you said monotonously. You were not just trying to be aloof. It was true that you were tired from all the playing and the swimming.

Time passed lazily as you lounged under the umbrellas, the sun slowly descending towards the horizon. You even snoozed for a bit, waking up with a jolt and wondering if you were out for three minutes or a whole hour. You saw that your friends were already surfing and the only ones left in the shade were you and Adie.

“That was a good one, Haohao!” you heard Trina shout and saw her waving happily by the shore.

The sight of them paddling out into the surf was captivating. They cut through the waves with practiced ease, their shouts of triumph carrying back to shore whenever they caught a particularly good wave. Vernon, true to his word, was a natural, effortlessly gliding along the waves.

You continued to watch from the comfort of your lounge chair, enjoying the peaceful rhythm of the waves and the distant laughter of your friends. As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in breathtaking shades of orange and pink, the surfers finally began to make their way back to shore. Groaning and sighing, everyone settled down to dry off and bask in the warmth of the remaining sunlight. You stayed longer to watch the sunset, take pictures, and feel the warm dusk breeze.

“Should we head back to the house?” you suggested, glancing at the darkening sky.

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry,” Mingyu agreed, pouting. 

Gathering your belongings, you all made your way back to the beach house. The walk was filled with more lighthearted chatter and the occasional burst of laughter. By the time you reached the house, the first stars were twinkling in the sky.

You were amazed to find barbecue being prepared at the poolside patio by your mother and Elise, a high school friend of yours. She greeted you and Jade with hugs and giggles.

“Oh, mom, you didn’t have to do all this,” you told your mom, feeling grateful and shy. 

“It’s alright, hun,” she chimed, flipping the barbecue over. “I had help from Elise here.”

You eyed Elise, equipped with tongs and a black apron over her dress. “I bumped into her at the grocery store and she invited me over for dinner.”

“Thanks for coming. Jade and I were actually talking about hanging with you guys a while ago,” you told her while you ushered your friends to the shower area so they can wash up.

“That can be arranged, but if you haven’t come up with anything yet, you should join us next weekend.”

“Next weekend?” you questioned, opening your mouth to accept the piece of barbecue your mom was feeding you.

“Talk about it later, girls. After you’re cleaned and decent,” your mom chided softly, poking your bare waist and grimacing at your bikini.

Giggling, you headed inside the house and heard your mom telling you not to step on the carpet with your sandy feet. Seeing the carpeted floor of your living room and stairs, you decided not to climb up to your bedroom and use the kitchen bathroom instead. 

Quietly slipping inside, you locked the door behind you, only to freeze when you turned to find Vernon standing under the showerhead, a look of surprise mirrored on both your faces.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, instinctively covering your eyes with your hands. “Don’t you lock doors when you’re using the bathroom?”

Vernon chuckled, his relaxed demeanor contrasting with your flustered state. “I was here with Mingyu. He didn’t lock it when he left.”

“You were here with Mingyu?” you asked, surprised and maybe a little malicious.

“No. He let me in after he was done,” he clarified and then you felt warm water being splashed at you. “Take your mind out of the gutter.”

You looked straight at him, feeling defensive. “I didn’t say anything!” He wasn’t completely naked. He still had his shorts on.

“You were thinking it,” he retorted, smirking. He turned the shower on, closing his eyes as the water hit his face.

Nervous, you turned the knob but it was locked. You fumbled with it for a few seconds, suddenly clueless about how it worked.

“You don’t have to leave. I’m done here,” he said after a while, turning the shower off.

“Hurry up then.”

You watched him reach for the towel and wipe his face as he walked towards the door. Realizing you were in front of it, you moved aside so he could leave. Instead of heading for the door, however, Vernon went straight to you, not breaking eye contact and stopping only when your feet touched.

“W-What?” you stammered, trying to maintain your composure as you met his gaze. Vernon didn’t say a word and just stared at you. Shy, you looked away and pushed him.

He held your hands and kept it on his chest. Then he said, “I need my clothes.”

“Your clothes?” you questioned, still not meeting his gaze. “Yeah, it’s up in my room. You can ask Jade for them, or Adie. They’ll know which one it is.”

He tightened his hold of your hands when you tried to withdraw them. Softly, he said, “You know, I think I've been wanting to do something for a while now.”

You looked up at him. “What is it?”

The tension between you lingered in the air, thickening with each passing moment as you found yourselves locked in a silent exchange of gazes. Vernon's eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you weren't sure you were ready to give.

"Just say 'no' and I'll be on my way," he finally broke the silence, his voice low and tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air as you struggled to find the right response. But when you opened your mouth to speak, the words caught in your throat, leaving you speechless. Vernon seemed to take your silence as an answer.

Your whole body ached with anticipation as you inched towards each other, the distance between you narrowing until there was barely a breath of space left. Each moment spent together today had been leading up to this, a series of shared glances, lingering touches, and unspoken words building a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

And then, without warning, his lips met yours in a tender kiss, sending a rush of warmth coursing through your veins. It was soft, gentle, and fleeting as if you were both testing the waters. Then you met again in another kiss, this time deeper, more urgent, and more intense. With ease, your tongue pushed inside his mouth, clashing with his. Then he bit your lip just enough to make you moan. You held on to his arm, knees weakened by the tingling sensations and the swirling emotions. Vernon held your back firmly, keeping you in place.

By the time you pulled away, you were both breathless and shocked. Vernon flashed a handsome smile, his breath fanning your face as he chuckled a little. His hands trailed down to your arms, holding them gently.

“I liked that,” Vernon echoed, his voice barely a whisper. “I liked that a lot.”

You giggled shyly, touching your lips. “Shut up.”

“I mean it!” he insisted, biting his lower lip as if to savor the lingering feeling of the kiss.

“Alright! You mean it. Be quiet about it!” you chided jokingly. 

As Vernon and you were caught up in the aftermath of your kiss, a sudden knock on the bathroom door startled both of you. You exchanged a quick, bewildered glance before Vernon moved to open the door very slightly. To your surprise, it was Mingyu standing there. You pressed your finger on your lips, gesturing at Vernon to not let him know you were there.

“Jade said these are yours,”  said Mingyu and you saw Vernon take the clothes in his hand.

With a forced smile, Vernon replied, "Thanks, man. I'll be out in a minute."

Mingyu's brow furrowed in suspicion as he peered into the bathroom. "Alright, but hurry up. We're all waiting for you."

As Mingyu turned to leave, you held your breath, praying he wouldn't be suspicious. Once he was out of earshot, Vernon let out a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his hair. You awkwardly walked to the shower, facing the wall so Vernon could get dressed. After about two minutes, you felt him approaching you from behind and pressing a quick peck on your cheek.

“I’ll see you outside?” he asked.

Smiling, you nodded and tilted your head to face him. “Sure.”

It took a while before you could calm down and properly wash up. And a few more minutes of pacing around your room before you got dressed and joined everyone for dinner. Everyone asked what took you so long and you coughed up a random excuse as you sat on the vacant chair next to Eunwoo. Your eyes met Vernon’s throughout the night, while you were thinking about the potential complications of your newfound connection.

You were on a quiet beach, eerily familiar but also unfamiliar. Waves crashed against the rocks, breaking the quietness of the night. The moon hung high in the sky, giving the sea an enchanting, silvery twinkle. The air was calm and cold as you scanned the horizon, your heart racing with curiosity and apprehension. 

“Where am I?” you asked yourself, walking towards the array of beach beds and closed umbrellas. As you were about to sit, you were startled by a loud sound of waves crashing against the rocky cliff up ahead. You glanced in that direction where you could see a figure illuminated by the ethereal moonlight.

“Who’s there?” you called out, only for your voice to echo back into your ear. The eerie sound made you gasp and in a blink of an eye, you found yourself lying on the grass. The sun was bright, stinging your eyes, so you tried to block it with your hand.

“I’ve been wanting to do something for a while now,” said a voice beside you that you immediately recognized. You glanced sideways, and lying on the grass next to you, was Vernon, his eyes filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Your vision blurred again, the scene shifting into an entirely different place. You were panting and moaning as you straddled Vernon, a scent of perfume and sweat permeating the air. His grip was strong on your waist and your head was tilted back, lost in the moment of passion. He then touched your face, willing you to look him in the eyes.

But just as you were about to speak, to lean in and kiss his lips, the dream shifted, dissolving into darkness as you were pulled back into the realm of wakefulness. You blinked, disoriented, trying to understand what had just happened.

“Oh,” you blurted, and hearing your own voice caused a bolt of electricity to shoot through your body, jolting you awake.

Gasping for breath, you sat up in bed, your heart pounding in your chest. The remnants of the dream clung to you, vivid and almost tangible. You glanced around your darkened room, the shadows and furniture outline bringing you back to reality. It had felt so real, so intense. And yet, it was just a dream.

Frustrated, you buried your face in your hands, shaking your head violently as if to expel the lewd images in your mind. Then for a moment, you sat there in the silence of the night, the memory of the dream still fresh and unsettling.

“What the actual fuck,” you sighed, shocked, scandalized, and utterly bewildered. The sensations, the closeness—it was too much.

Just then, your phone buzzed, breaking the silence. You grabbed it from the bedside table, squinting at the screen to recognize the username of the person who had followed you. Not that you needed any effort; ‘vernonline’ was practically a complete government ID.

“Of all the people who could decide to follow me right now,” you muttered, swiping to see his profile. You scrolled through his posts as you lay back down, stopping at a particularly good-looking photo of him. As you studied his features, images from the dream started flashing in your mind, making you toss the phone away and bury your face in your pillow.

“Gosh, y/n, what the hell was that?” you scolded yourself, kicking your sheets aggressively and stopping only when your phone buzzed again.

You peeked at your screen and saw that Vernon had messaged you.

Vernon: Can’t sleep? You: Can’t. Vernon: What are you up to?

“Having sex with you in my dream, dumbass,” you blurted, exhaling sharply.

You: Idk, nothing. Vernon: Meet me at the bay by your house?

You scowled, dictating as you typed a reply. “‘Now?’” Biting your nails, you stared at your screen as you waited for his reply.

Vernon: Yes. I’m out here right now

“What?” you blurted, standing up at once and rushing to your window to see if he was telling the truth. Sure enough, there was Vernon, seated on one of the beach beds. The beach was a distance away, but you could clearly see him, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. You decided to call him, and he picked up quickly.

“What are you doing out there?” you asked, glancing at your watch. It’s almost midnight.

“I don’t know. I was walking down the beach from Jade’s house, getting some fresh air. I didn’t stop until I realized how far I’d come. Then I saw that I was almost at your house, so I just kept walking.”

“Stay there,” you told him, hanging up. You grabbed a jacket and rushed out of the house to meet him.

Vernon greeted you with a sweet smile, tilting his head handsomely as you approached. He looked cozy in his black hoodie and denim jeans. As you drew nearer, you couldn't help but wrestle with the vivid memories of your dream and your sanity's efforts to push it to the back of your mind.

“Walking from Jade’s house all the way here? Surely you can come up with a better excuse,” you joked as soon as you reached him.

Vernon chuckled heartily, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Alright, you got me. I came all the way here just to see you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness. The dream had left a lingering impression, and now here he was, as real as the cool night breeze. 

“In the middle of the night?” you asked, sitting on the chair opposite his.

“Yes. And I did walk all the way here.”

You scowled, unconvinced. “No, you didn’t.”

“Actually, I did. It’s not that far if you follow the beach line,” he said, then pointed somewhere behind him. “See that bright light there? That’s Jade’s house.”

You looked at where he was pointing, squinting to see the faint glow in the distance. “Wow, you really did walk all the way here,” you admitted with a hint of surprise in your voice.

Vernon shrugged casually. “Told you so.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as the sound of the waves filled the air. The moonlight cast a soft glow over the sea, and you could hear the faint music from the beachfront bars nearby.

“So, what made you walk all the way here?” you asked, breaking the silence. “Can't sleep?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the gentle waves lapping at the shore. “Yeah. Thought maybe a walk would help clear my mind.”

“Did it?” you asked, curious about what was going on in his mind.

Vernon turned to you, his eyes catching the faint moonlight. “Not really. But seeing you... that helps.”

You felt your cheeks warm, grateful for the dim light hid your blush. Scoffing in feigned indifference, you said, “Smooth talker.”

He laughed, the sound blending harmoniously with the night. “I don’t know. You’ve been running in my head all night. All day, actually.”

“Did you come here to sweet talk me?”

“Nah, I came because…” he paused, hesitating. Then he sighed, deciding not to continue. “Forget it. What’s the dream about?”

You froze, not expecting the question. “What makes you think I had a dream?”

“You looked like you were woken up from a good sleep,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

You laughed nervously. “Just a random dream, nothing important.”

Thankfully he didn’t press for answers and quietly leaned on the beach bed. There was no exchange of words for a while, and you sat there feeling impatient and nervous. You didn’t want to leave yet but you couldn’t find a reason to stay. 

“Do you regret it?” Vernon asked quietly, his voice calming your jittery hands. “The kiss?”

Looking at him, you shook your head. “No, I don’t. Do you?”

“Not for a second,” he said firmly. “I just don’t know where to go from here.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “Maybe we don’t need to have all the answers right now. Maybe we can just... see where this goes.”

Vernon studied you for a moment, then nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Vernon rose to his feet and occupied the space next to you. You were nervous, but you didn’t shy away from him this time. When he lifted your chin to meet his gaze, you placed a hand on his neck. When he leaned in for a kiss, you met him halfway and with equal eagerness. Next thing you know, you were moaning on the beach bed, Vernon’s kisses peppering the skin along your neck while his hands roamed your body. 

Your hand was firm on his back, holding on for dear life as he explored your body for the spots that electrified you. Eventually, his lips found their way back to yours, sucking, nipping, and biting while you pressed your body against his. Your jacket has long been discarded, and your skin is wet with sweat despite the cool evening breeze. Vernon was impatient, having kissed every inch of your neck and collarbone before you gave him permission to go further.

He lifted your nightgown first, revealing your belly where he left a trail of sweet little kisses. His touch was electric, sending your mind spiraling with lust and anticipation. Then he stopped in front of your underwear, breathing warmly against it before cupping it with his big hand.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asked, snapping you back into reality.

You blinked, looking around at the deserted beach. Then you immediately sat up, fixing the straps of your nightgown back in place.

“What the hell are we doing?” you exclaimed, standing up at once. Vernon’s face dropped, looking disappointed and understanding at the same time. You picked up your jacket on the sand, grabbed his hand, and led him to your house.

Vernon tugged you back, locking you in his arms and asking, “Are you sure?”

Groaning, you tiptoed to kiss him. “Very sure. Just not here.”

You slipped into the house quietly, careful not to wake your mom or make a sound. At one point, Vernon almost knocked over a plant hanging by the staircase. Luckily, he caught it before it could hit the floor and you laughingly put it back.

As soon as you reached your room, you grabbed Vernon’s collar and kissed him. Vernon was just as excited, brazenly slipping his hands underneath your nightgown to feel the skin of your back and grab a handful of your ass. A moan escaped your lips when he gave it a squeeze. You grabbed his hand to stop him from doing it again.

“Sorry,” he grinned, pecking at your lips.

“No, I like it. But don’t do it. We can’t be loud,” you whispered, reaching behind him to turn the lock on your door. “My mom’s a light sleeper.”

“Right, okay,” he obliged before swooping your cheek to kiss you again. “Any chance you have condoms tucked away somewhere?”

“Crap. I don’t,” you replied, brows knitting together. “But I’m on the pill.”

“Okay. Good.”

By the time you reached the bed, Vernon had discarded his hoodie and your nightgown lay on a heap on the floor. Neither of you wanted to stop kissing, but you had to when you climbed the bed and laid on your back.

“Wow,” he blurted, feasting his eyes on the nakedness before him. The way he smirked and bit his lower lip at the sight of you made you feral. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” you asked shyly, feeling self-conscious.

He crept up to you, propping himself in his arms as he hovered over you. Then he whispered, his voice deep and melodic. “I knew you looked way better without those bikinis from earlier.”

Normally, you’d be all red and embarrassed if someone complimented you. But right now, all you are feeling is a boost of confidence and the strong urge to challenge his patience.

“Oh yeah? Now that explains why you were ogling me all day,” you purred, one hand on his neck while the other traced a line from his cheek down to his chest.

Vernon smirked. “Says you who gave me nothing but shorts to wear all day.”

You giggled when he kissed your neck. “That was unintentional.”

He hummed against your skin. “So are my occasional glances at your bikini-clad ass. Let’s not hold it against each other, love.”

The endearment had your stomach fluttering as you were dragged into the vice of his lips again. You matched his fervor, tugging, biting, battling your tongue with his, running your fingers through his scalp and grabbing a handful of his hair. His lips moved to your breast, one hand fondling the other as his tongue circled and sucked on your nipple. You cried out when he pinched it, and your hand flew over your mouth to prevent yourself from making any sound– however too late it may be.

“Vernon,” you called softly, squeezing your thighs together.

Vernon flashed a playful grin before he reached between your thighs to touch your clothed sex. “How quickly can you cum?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you in a hurry or something?”

“Not at all,” he replied, shaking his head. “I need to know if I want to impress you on our first time.”

You groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Can we just save that for next time?”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, holding your knees and parting them. “You’re an impatient one.”

“And you’re chatty,” you scoffed, kissing him once more as he ripped your underwear off.

“Don’t you know how important communication is?” he teased. Without warning, he took a long, wet lick of your cunt, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. You bit your lower lip, stifling the lewd sounds of pleasure that were trying to escape your mouth. 

Then he repeated it several times more before positioning himself between your legs. You didn’t even notice that he had taken off his pants. Your entire body ached with lust and anticipation for what was about to come. Vernon took his sweet time peppering your neck and chest with kisses.

“Vernon,” you pleaded with desperation in your voice, throwing all self-respect out the window.

The tip of his cock prodded your cunt, pushing ever so slightly as he tried to test how difficult or how easy it would be to get in. You gasped when his head went in, and whimpered when he bottomed out in one go. A delightful pain shot through your body, one that’s electrifying and satisfying. The way his dick stretched you was wonderful, nearly perfect.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his face twitching with what you can only assume as satisfaction.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you whispered, breathless and exhilarated. 

He moved once, observing your reaction. After another thrust, he was able to confirm that you were doing fine so he started bucking his hips rhythmically, sending ripples of pleasure through your body. As he kept going, you tried to keep quiet but it proved difficult when he was ramming into you while sucking the skin on your neck. You were holding back so hard that you could only whimper and gasp, leaving you so frustrated that you felt like crying.

Vernon's grip under your thighs tightened, his breathing erratic as he tried not to make loud sounds. His strangled grunts, the sharp intake of air, along with the raspy curses and quiet whispers of dirty sweet nothings in your ear made you dizzy, so much that you swear you’re seeing stars on your ceiling.

“So… fucking… tight,” he grunted, thrusting harder and deeper.

“Oh, god,” you mewled, and repeated your words again when he continued, “Oh, god, Vernon!”

You thought you could go for a long time, but the slight change in his pace reached places you never expected him to find so easily. You arched your body towards him, digging your nails on his shoulder as you neared the sweet bliss of release. Your eyes were rolling back, going out of your mind due to intense pleasure.

“Vernon,” you murmured, brows knitting, puppy-eyed, and biting your lip. “Please… Please don’t stop… Aagh— don’t you… fucking… stop!”

Vernon heeded your plea, losing his mind over your desperate face. He locked your lips in a kiss, muffling your moans as the twisted knot in your belly exploded. Mouth hanging open, you felt lightheaded and weak, every sound fading into a static noise as every ounce of energy left your limbs. 

Your vision shifted out of focus for a second, and then you were met by Vernon’s proud smirk. Sighing in relief, you reached to wipe the sweat on his forehead. He was still inside you, moving very slowly as you basked in the joy of your orgasm. He looked hotter in this view, a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body. 

“How was that?” he asked, smirking. You rolled your eyes to discourage his smug attitude, but the grin on your lips was evidence of your satisfaction. He added, “Mind if I finish?”

Suddenly, it clicked. He wasn’t done yet! “Please. Go ahead.”

Vernon inhaled sharply before he started ramming his hips into you again. The sensations rushed back into you, making you gasp and whimper. He was going at an unsteady but brutal pace, thrusting faster and harder as he chased his orgasm. With a rough grunt and one final thrust, he pulled out and sent streaks of cum across your belly. You reached for his cock to jerk it off, making him groan due to overstimulation. After he was done, he hovered there for a few seconds and then fell on a heap on top of you.

“Wow,” he rasped, panting.

“Yeah,” you breathed, immensely weakened. "Wow."

The dream must have been a premonition. Or it might be the manifestation of the pent-up tension between you all day. Either way, it didn’t matter. What mattered was this moment, right now. The figment of your imagination could never compare to the real thing. It was everything you’d ever imagined, so much better even.

Vernon was gone before daybreak after you sent him away. He had been sleeping soundly next to you last night, warm and snuggly. But you woke him up barely four hours later and asked him to leave. You asked nicely, of course, and he was very understanding of your reasons. As beautiful as it was, you both agreed to keep the whole thing a secret for now. So, you sent him away to ensure your mother wouldn’t see him in the morning or that your friends wouldn’t wonder where he was.

It bothered you how quickly you got into this relationship with Vernon, especially because you knew it didn’t stem from sincere feelings but rather from infatuation and sexual tension. You also didn’t want to be the subject of your friends’ relentless teasing for the whole duration of their stay. How would you explain that you were suddenly sleeping with the guy you said you had zero interest in?

You had been staring at the ceiling for over an hour now, reliving the events of last night and wondering what the next few days had in store for the two of you. You needed not to remind yourself that this was all but a convenient setup. No strings had been attached to this yet, as far as your spoken declarations were concerned. With that in mind, you drifted back to sleep, tired from last night’s excursions.

The late morning sun filtered through your curtains, and the cool wind embraced your naked arms. You woke up again, feeling the emptiness beside you where Vernon had been. It was a strange feeling, missing someone who had just been a friend until recently. The physical connection you shared last night had stirred up emotions you hadn't anticipated.

As you got ready for the day, your thoughts drifted back to Vernon. You couldn't deny the chemistry between you two, but the uncertainty of where this was headed made you uneasy. The thought of facing your friends and pretending nothing had changed was daunting but necessary. You couldn't let them suspect anything, at least not yet.

Downstairs, your mother was on her knees, scanning the papers she had strategically scattered on the floor and on the couches in the living room. She was mumbling to herself, the deep scowl on her face indicating her intense concentration. It is best not to disturb her when she is busy like this, so you slip quietly out of the house, taking your old car out of the garage and heading to Jade’s.

When you got there, the house was already buzzing with activity. Your friends were lounging in the living room, chatting and laughing. You joined them, trying to act as normal as possible.

“Look who decided to turn up,” Jade teased, waving. "You missed breakfast."

"Sorry, I was really tired," you replied, forcing a smile as you sat down.

Mingyu glanced at you with a knowing look, but he didn't say anything. You wondered if he had noticed anything unusual about Vernon this morning.

“What's the plan for today?” you asked, eager to divert attention from yourself.

“Beach volleyball!” Jaehyun announced enthusiastically. “Elise invited us to join them at the beach.”

“Cool. Can we make s’mores after?” Trina requested. “That is if there isn’t a bonfire party after the game.”

Jade nodded. “There isn’t, so yes, we can make smores.”

Everyone cheered at the idea, and you couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. Activities like these would keep everyone occupied and less likely to notice any changes between you and Vernon.

As the day went on, you found yourself stealing glances at Vernon, who seemed just as composed as ever. The physical distance between you in public was a stark contrast to the intimacy you had shared last night. It was a balancing act, maintaining the facade while grappling with your own feelings.

During volleyball, you and Vernon ended up on opposing teams, and your competitive sides came out in full force. Since this was a game held by your high school friends, Winwin was there too and got on the same team as you. In a quick battle of wits, Jade boasted about you and Winwin being the best beach volleyball duo, making everyone cheer and tease. The game was filled with laughter, teasing, and a few surprisingly intense moments.

“You're pretty good,” Vernon said, panting and grinning as you both took a break.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied, wiping sweat from your forehead. That was your first conversation ever since he left your house that morning.

Later in the afternoon, while everyone was busy setting up for the bonfire, Vernon found a chance to be alone with you. He casually asked you to help him get the marshmallows from the kitchen, and you obliged. As you looked for the bag of marshmallows, Vernon sneakily closed the pantry door.

“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Come on. Forget the mallows for a sec,” he grinned, tugging you by the waist.

Vernon scooped your cheek to kiss you, and you happily kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. There was a sense of relief mixed in the euphoria of kissing Vernon, as if you had been starved of his touch for years instead of mere hours. You melted in his arms, delirious because of his kiss. When you parted, your lips ached for him, but you didn’t indulge it.

“Can I see you tonight?” he asked, looking ecstatic.

Absolutely, you screamed in your head but you wanted to play hard-to-get. “I’ll think about it,” you replied.

“Okay. Let me know.”

He kissed you once more, and then another. And even as you were leaving the pantry, he stole kisses on your cheek, stopping only when you were almost outside the house where all your friends are gathered.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activities and stolen moments. You and Vernon navigated your secret relationship with a mix of excitement and caution. Every touch, every shared glance held a thrill of secrecy that only the two of you understood. Vernon has mastered the art of sneaking to your house, undetected. And you would be in each other’s arms all night, only to act like you barely knew each other the next day.

One morning, the group decided to go kayaking. You went to a water sports resort with your friends, excited about the activities you haven’t done in a long time. The clear blue waters of the bay called to you, and it was like you were rediscovering its beauty after spending most of your life living here.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Jade asked Trina again, who shook her head in response.

“Have fun, babe,” she told Minghao who then joined Mingyu on the kayak. “Take care of my Haohao, alright?” 

You scoffed as you were strapping your life vest. “Wrong. Minghao should take care of Mingyu. Chances of falling off the kayak and drowning is higher for that giant himbo.”

Eunwoo laughed as he was helping you with the gear. Patting the back of your life vest, he said, “There. You’re all set.”

“Thanks,” you lilted, looking at the array of kayaks by the shore. “Which one is ours?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m going with Adie.”

You gawked at him and then glanced over your shoulders at Adie who was chatting with Jade. “With Adie?”

“Yeah. It sort of just… happened. I could go with you instead, if you want,” he offered but you shook your hands.

“No, it’s okay. You can go with her. I don’t think she knows how to kayak so she’ll need someone who does.”

Eunwoo looked apologetic, but he just nodded and looked around. “So, you wouldn’t mind going with Vernon?”

You paused, surprised. Then your eyes searched the vicinity for Vernon. He was talking to a resort staff with Jaehyun and he smiled at you when he caught you looking.

It makes sense, of course. Eunwoo and Adie are going out together. Jade pairing up with her boyfriend is a given. So that leaves you and Vernon.

“Yeah. I don’t see why I would,” you replied.

You paired up with Vernon, both of you concealing your satisfaction with how things turned out. You pushed off from the shore, your kayak gliding smoothly over the water. The others spread out, their laughter and shouts echoing across the bay. 

“So, do you kayak often?” Vernon asked, his voice carrying over the gentle lapping of the waves.

“Not as often as I'd like,” you admitted. 

“Living here, with this magnificent bay and all, I assumed you would be out on the water every day,” he commented.

“Well, I did have a phase where I can’t seem to get enough of the sea,” you reminisced. “But that was when I was like, sixteen or seventeen. Now I barely come out here, especially since I’m away for college most of the time.”

Vernon nodded. “I get that. Sometimes we take the beautiful things around us for granted because they’re always there.”

You paddled in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the serene beauty of the bay. The water was clear, allowing you to see the underwater world teeming with life beneath you. Schools of fish darted around, and you even spotted a few crabs scuttling along the sandy bottom.

“Hey, want to head over to that little cove?” Vernon pointed to a secluded spot where the trees leaned over the water, creating a shaded area perfect for a break.

“Sure,” you agreed, steering your kayak in that direction.

As you approached the cove, the sounds of your friends grew distant, replaced by the soothing rustle of leaves and the occasional call of a seabird. You both pulled your kayak up onto a small, sandy beach and took a seat on a fallen log.

“This is nice,” you said, taking a deep breath of the salty air. You leaned back, propping yourself up on your hands. “You know, this whole secret relationship thing... it’s kind of fun.”

Vernon grinned. “Yeah? I was worried it might be too much stress.”

You shook your head. “It has its moments, but there’s something exciting about it.”

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “I like that. But I don’t want it to be stressful for you. If it ever gets too much, just tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you promised, squeezing his hand.

For a moment, you both just sat there, holding hands and listening to the gentle sounds of nature. It was a rare, peaceful moment amid the whirlwind that had become your summer.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Vernon said out of nowhere.

You glanced at him curiously and upon recognizing the mischief on his face, you shook your head. “Don’t even think about it.”

Vernon threw his head back laughing. “Pretty hard not to. With you in that gorgeous two-piece and all.”

“Have some decency, Vernon. I’ve been thinking about giving you a head all day but I didn’t because we’re out in public.”

The shock made Vernon inhale sharply, cover his mouth, and look away. You just scowled at him, confused at his overreaction. When he glanced back at you, his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. You raised an eyebrow so he cleared his throat and composed himself.

“You can’t say things like that out loud!” he chided softly, shaking his head.

You scoffed. “I’m sure whatever you have in your mind is far more scandalous.”

Vernon smiled playfully. “Oh, so you wanna hear what I think?”

“No,” you declared, crossing your arms over your chest and reverting your gaze to the sea.

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side. No one will notice.”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!” you exclaimed, slapping his arm. You were right, he was thinking far more scandalous thoughts! “Your mind is in the gutter.”

“So what? My mind likes it there.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, standing up at once. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him up and led him further into the cove.

“Can’t we just—” 

You cut him off with an urgent kiss, clutching a handful of his hair as you kept his head at an angle. Vernon wasted no time, locking your waist in his arms and kissing you with sweet abandon. You made out with him for a couple minutes, stopping immediately when he started grinding his crotch against you.

“Aw,” he whined, shoulders sagging as he watched you walk away from him and back to the shore like nothing happened.

Just in time, the sound of voices carried over the water, signaling the return of your friends. 

“Let’s head back,” you called out to Vernon who was walking to you with a grumpy pout. You couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips, pleased with his reaction.

You woke up to the sound of birds calling from a distance and the weight of an arm around your waist. A smile crept upon your lips as you snuggled closer to the warmth radiating from behind you. Your movements caused Vernon to stir, groaning as he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face behind your neck.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice deep and throaty. You felt a soft peck on your shoulder as you uttered the same greeting. “Is it time to go?”

You shook your head lazily, turning to face him. An affectionate kiss on your forehead had you reeling in bliss. Vernon’s forehead was creased, but he didn't look annoyed, rather pleased with his eyes still closed and cheeks bloated from sleep.

“Later,” you replied and saw him nodding.

He took a long breath and locked your head in his arms. “Good idea.”

You laughingly hit his arm so he'd let you go, but Vernon squeezed tighter, just tight enough so you wouldn't choke. As you struggled to let loose, your phone started buzzing on the nightstand, so you reached to grab it, only to be dragged back by him.

“Stop! I gotta take it!” you giggled, and he eventually let go. You bolted right up when you saw Jade’s message on the screen, and your surprised action completely woke Vernon.

“What? What's wrong? What happened?” he asked, blinking at the bright sunlight pouring into the room.

“Jade’s coming.”

“Oh,” he blurted monotonously, scratching his chin. I have to go, don't I?"

"Yeah. Go,” you told him, patting his shoulder repeatedly. Vernon rose to his feet, picking up his stuff on the chair while you answered Jade’s call.

"Hey, are you up?" came your friend's voice from the other line.

"No," you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

"Good. Jaehyun and I are on our way."

"Uh, yeah. Okay. How long before you get here?" you questioned. Vernon was quietly asking where his jacket was, so you pointed at your desk. "You think you could pick up hot chocolate for me at Poppy’s?"

"Already on it," replied Jade. "Be there in 15."

Jade hung up after you said your goodbyes, and you jumped off your bed to see Vernon off. He wrapped you in his embrace, warm and snug. You inhaled his scent, reluctant to let him go.

“I'll see you later?” he asked, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Later,” you nodded. One more kiss and Vernon left your house, waving happily. You sighed after closing your door, wondering how much longer you could keep this a secret from your friends, especially from Jade, who had always been interested in your love life. She would have wanted to know about this before anyone else.

Should you tell her? Maybe she'll get off your case and stop setting you up with guys. Honestly, there was no reason to keep this a secret, except for the fact that Vernon is relatively new and everything happened too quickly between you.

You were stepping out of the bathroom when your doorbell rang. You peered outside the window and signaled for them to come in before running back to your bedroom to get changed. Jade’s cheerful ‘good morning’ greeted you, followed by a kiss on your cheek. Jaehyun asked you how your sleep was as he handed you the hot chocolate you asked them to pick up.

“So, tell me why you left your guests back at your house to have breakfast here with me?” you asked Jade as you both sat by the kitchen island, watching Jaehyun flip pancakes.

“Meh. They’re all busy doing their own thing. When I asked who wanted to come with us here, they all said no.”

“Eunwoo too?”

Jade shrugged. “Eunwoo hasn’t come out of his room, so he was probably still asleep. Vernon too, I guess. I haven’t seen them leave their room yet.”

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling uneasy. “I see.”

“We’re leaving at noon,” she said after checking a message on her phone. “Are you ready?”

“I am,” you replied. You were invited by Elise to a camping trip, which you know would be fun so you all agreed to go. 

You and Vernon talked about it. He wasn’t as excited, saying he was tired and wanted to just stay in.

“Can we just stay here so I can fuck your brains out?” he had asked you the night before.

“My, my, how romantic,” you had told him sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “But if we do, everyone’s gonna know.”

After breakfast, Elise arrived with Winwin to pick you up. With your group of five people, you went to buy essentials for the camping trip: food, booze, and other materials. It was almost noon by the time you were done, so to save time, you picked up your stuff from the house and went straight to the meeting place where everyone was waiting.

“Did you get everything?” one friend asked as you were getting out of Winwin’s car.

You were surprised when you found your group to be smaller than expected. Other than you and your friends from uni, there were only six other people from your high school. Elise and Winwin were there, as expected. The other four are old classmates, including Mina, a girl Mingyu had been hanging out with ever since he got here.

In three SUV cars, you set off from the bay to a campsite that they had picked out. It was rowdy and you could already imagine how the weekend would go.

“Chips?” you asked Eunwoo, offering him a chip while he drove.

“Thanks,” he said, beaming and accepting the food with his mouth without taking his eyes off the road.

Mingyu’s head peeked at you from between the seats. He was pouting so you rolled your eyes at him and fed him some chips too.

“See, she loves me too,” Mingyu chimed, sitting back.

“She doesn't. You're just annoying and she puts up with you just to shut you up,” Adie sneered.

“You're just jealous because no one loves you like y/n does me.”

You heard Adie scoff. “Does your girlfriend know you're simping over y/n?”

“You know I don't have a girlfriend,” Mingyu replied indignantly.

“Exactly.”

Your gaze met Eunwoo's for a second before you both laughed at Mingyu’s misery. They continued to bicker along the way. 

Traveling always makes you sleepy, which is why you're the least fun person to be with on a road trip. This time, of course, you fell asleep barely an hour into the trip, waking up only when Eunwoo gently shook you.

“We're here,” he sang, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you. You smiled back, thanking him before stretching your limbs.

“Where is here, exactly?” you asked, handing his jacket back to him.

“Honestly, no idea. It's my first time here too,” he replied as he wore his jacket.

When you got out of the car, you recognized the campsite you frequented with your high school friends. Once a year, you all would come up here for some fresh air and to hike by yourselves. The air was colder, probably because you're up the mountains but the view was majestic enough to ignore the chill. The lake sat magnificently a few feet from where you stood and although the skies weren't particularly clear, it was still a sight to behold.

“Don't we need to unload our stuff first?” Eunwoo asked, shuddering as he hugged you from behind and trapped you inside his jacket.

You basked in the warmth but then caught Vernon’s gaze from where their car was parked. Casually, you slipped away from Eunwoo's arms. “There's no need. The tents are already furnished. You can crash as soon as you get there.”

“Have you been here before?”

“Yeah, we came here a lot when we were in high school.”

“Hey, Cha Eunwoo!” Jade's voice made you laugh. “I told you not to hog my best friend!”

Jade yanked you away from Eunwoo, hugging you tightly as if shielding you away from the man.

“She's my best friend too!” Eunwoo argued.

In a lower voice, Jade scolded him. “I know, but right now, you're ruining her chances at love.”

“Love?” you frowned but Jade was already dragging you away.

“Go help make food or something!” Jade told Eunwoo and you laughingly waved at him as you were getting dragged away.

“What do you mean by love?” you asked but she shushed you and discreetly pointed at the third car. Winwin was standing by it, unloading the stuff from the trunk.

“Uh… nope.”

“Why not?”

“He’s my ex.”

“Duh? I know,” she replied, rolling her eyes. Then she poked at your sides teasingly. “But I’ve seen how you’ve been spending some time with him these days. You seemed to have fun together. Why not give it another chance?”

“Oh, Jade,” you sighed. If only she knew which guy you had been spending all your free time with.

Barbecue was on the menu. While you helped prepare the food, the others were already starting the party with some music and booze. This mountain resort is a popular spot, but it’s summer, and most people are at the beach so your group is the only one present which was nice because you have the place all to yourselves. You chatted with Jaehyun and Winwin as you prepped, laughing at their jokes and playful banter. Vernon was there too, but he kept his distance and didn't speak to you.

“Need help with that?” you glanced sideways at the guy who crouched next to you by the cooler. It was Winwin and he smiled as he helped you put cans of soda and beer into the cooler.

“Not really, but thanks,” you replied. You and Winwin had indeed been chatting a lot whenever you were hanging out with them. But it’s all for the sake of friendship and the bond you used to have, nothing to suggest any romantic pursuits. You found these chats fun and interesting too, and you hoped that no one would make a big deal out of it. But after what Jade told you a while ago, you were starting to think everyone else might be misunderstanding your friendship.

“Hey, man,” came Vernon's voice from behind you that almost made you gasp. “Jaehyun’s calling you at the barbecue.”

Winwin stood up, smiling at you before running back to where he was being called. Vernon crouched down next to you, beaming as he helped with the remaining drinks.

“How was your sleep?” he asked, inching a little closer.

“My sleep?” you questioned, puzzled. “Did you see me sleeping in the car?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You were so cute with your mouth open.”

You felt your face flare and resisted the urge to swat him. “Not funny.”

“I didn't say it was funny,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “I said you were cute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes before standing up. Vernon followed, carrying the cooler.

“Where do we put this?” he asked and you pointed to the direction of the dining area by the bonfire. You walked there together, chatting casually along the way before Jaehyun called you over to where they were preparing the other foods.

“Wait,” Vernon grabbed your wrist as you were about to walk away. You glanced at it and then at your friends who were waiting for you. Vernon instinctively released your hand. “Nevermind. Go ahead.”

For the rest of the afternoon, and through the night, you had fun with your friends, goofing around and reliving the memories of your teenage years. Games were present too, and drinks. Lots of drinks. 

However, there was a tension simmering under the surface, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Vernon has a feeling that today wasn’t his day. It started as soon as he left your house. On his way back to Jade’s, the neighbor’s dogs chased after him. In the two weeks that he has stayed here, those dogs had never shown any aggression towards him until today. He initially thought that was it, but when he was taking a shower, he slipped on the tiles and landed on his butt. Although it didn’t cause any real damage, it was still irritating.

And when it was time for them to leave, he wanted to be in the same car as you. But Jaehyun asked him to drive and he couldn’t decline. He wanted to, but he couldn’t possibly tell his friend that he didn’t want to drive because he wanted to be in the same car as you were. 

Well, he could. He just chose not to out of respect for your wishes to keep things quiet.

So he settled with the small joy of seeing you sleep on the passenger seat, looking cute with your mouth hanging open. It was so adorable he almost asked to get out of the car so he could go pinch your cheeks.

Then when you reached the campsite, Eunwoo was all over you and Jade said something about setting you up with your ex. Vernon heard that, of course. He doesn’t get it though. Why would you want to get back with an ex from a long time ago?

The rest of the afternoon unfolded with lots of activities. The air was filled with laughter, the crackle of the bonfire, and the smell of barbecue. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the party atmosphere grew even more vibrant.

Vernon watched you from a distance, his eyes tracking your every move. He tried to find a moment alone with you, but it seemed impossible. Winwin was always nearby, and you two were frequently seen laughing and chatting. Your bond from high school was so evident, that one would think you didn’t stop contacting each other all those years ago. Then there was Eunwoo, who had always been affectionate and clingy towards you, but Vernon couldn’t seem to shake off his ire towards your best friend.

Eunwoo draped an arm around your shoulders as you all watched the sunset. “This view is amazing, right?” he told you.

“Absolutely,” you replied, leaning into him slightly. You caught Vernon's eye for a split second, but he looked away, pretending to be engrossed in his phone.

“Y/n, let’s go get refills,” Winwin suggested, pulling you away from Eunwoo. You laughed, giving Eunwoo a light shove as you followed Winwin to the cooler.

Vernon seized this moment and approached you both, hoping to finally get a word in. “Hey, need any help?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Nah, we're good!” Winwin replied cheerfully, handing you the cans while you loaded them into the ice bucket. “Thanks though, man.”

You glanced briefly at him and smiled. Vernon clenched his jaw, forcing a smile. “Sure, anytime.”

He lingered for a moment, hoping Winwin would leave, but instead, Winwin started telling you a funny story about your high school days, making you laugh so hard you nearly spilled your drink.

Vernon could feel his patience wearing thin. Every time he tried to get close to you, someone else was already there, monopolizing your attention. He attempted to interject himself into your conversations, but it always felt forced and awkward.

Later, as everyone gathered around the bonfire, Vernon saw another opportunity. He moved to sit next to you, but Eunwoo beat him to it, practically pulling you into his lap.

“Hey, scoot over,” Vernon said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“There’s plenty of room,” Eunwoo replied cheerfully, oblivious to Vernon’s irritation.

Vernon sat down on the other side of you, but the moment was already spoiled. Jaehyun started playing the guitar, and everyone began to sing along, further distancing you from Vernon.

Finally, after what felt like the hundredth interruption, Vernon had had enough. He retreated to the edge of the campsite, crossing his arms and staring moodily into the darkness. His grumpy demeanor didn't go unnoticed.

Mingyu wandered over, a concerned look on his face. “You alright, man?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Vernon replied curtly.

“You don’t look fine,” Mingyu pointed out. “What’s up?”

Vernon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just... hard to get a moment with her, you know?”

Unbeknownst to you, Mingyu knew about you and Vernon. No one told him, he just figured it out by himself on the very first night that Vernon slept in your house. They were roommates first before Vernon moved to Eunwoo’s room because Mingyu kept bringing Mina over. When Vernon didn’t come home that night, Mingyu knew something good had happened to him. After all, the very reason Vernon was willing to come to Azure Bay in the first place was you. 

Why would Vernon sacrifice a peaceful summer break spent with his family to join a group of friends that he barely knew in a state he had never been to before? It was all because of you. Mingyu knew about this little crush and decided to give his friend this one and only opportunity.

Mingyu glanced back at you, surrounded by your friends. “Yeah, she’s pretty popular,” he said with a chuckle. “Just give it time. We’re here all weekend.”

Vernon nodded, but his mood didn’t improve. He spent the rest of the evening brooding, feeling more and more isolated as the party continued without him. Every time he saw you laughing with someone else, it was like a punch to the gut. Today really wasn’t his day.

Eventually, you noticed the change in his mood. When the party died down and everyone retreated to their tents, you and Vernon were left in front of the bonfire. He was still looking grumpy, staring at the fire like it had done him a grave sin.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked softly when you approached him.

Vernon forced a smile. “Yeah, just needed some air.”

You looked unconvinced but didn’t push. “It’s getting cold. We shouldn’t stay out here for too long.”

“Right. Bye then,” he replied coldly, standing up at once and heading to one of the tents.

You froze on the spot, dumbfounded and bewildered at the attitude he was giving you. You told him that hoping he’d ask to be alone with you, then you’d invite him to your tent. Did he ignore you on purpose or was he really clueless about your cue? 

You decided not to pester him about it. Feeling hurt, you walked back into your own tent, got ready to sleep, and curled up under the sheets.

“The fuck was his problem?” you asked yourself, scowling deeply as you scrolled through your phone.

You were annoyed and deeply hurt. You even made sure not to share a tent with someone else because you thought you could be alone with him. Now, what’s the point?

“So annoying,” you muttered when you saw his Instagram story about the campsite.

You were just about to toss your phone away when you noticed something in his story. It was not just a picture of the lake. You were in it too. Initially, you thought the silhouette was of someone else’s. But you recognized yourself, and the bun sitting on top of your head all day.

Your face lit up with a smile that you couldn’t conceal. Whether it was on purpose or not, your heart fluttered seeing that on his page. As if on cue, a message from Vernon popped up on your screen.

Vernon: I was a dick. I’m sorry.

You sighed, turning on your back and typing a reply.

You: Was it easier to act like a dick than to tell me what was wrong? Vernon: I guess Vernon: Meet me outside?

You grinned, giddiness bubbling inside you.

You: Is outside better than here in my tent?

You waited for his response but about three minutes later, you heard his voice outside your tent. Excited, you rose to open up for him. Big eyes, a hood over his head, and a big gummy smile welcomed you.

“Is it okay to come in?” he asked before you could even say anything.

You giggled, unable to resist his cuteness. “Yeah. Come on in.”

“Are you sure? What if someone sees us?”

“Someone will if you keep standing there.”

Vernon comes in at once, leaving his shoes outside. Not wasting a second, Vernon pulled you into a tight hug.

“I've been waiting on you all day,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

“What do you mean? I was here the whole time.”

Vernon sighed, burying his face on the crook of your neck. “Should we just tell everyone? Watching guys hover around you like bees on a flower is not entertaining at all.”

You chuckled heartily. “My, my. Is Vernon being jealous right now?” you teased but when Vernon didn’t laugh or say anything to deflect you, you realized you were right. “Are you serious?”

He didn’t respond and just sighed against your skin. You shoved him a little, making him sit properly and face you.

“Vernon,” you prompted, stern.

“So what if I am?” he grumbled, scowling deeply. “These guys are all over you.”

You grinned, flattered. “They’re my friends.”

“I know. But I can’t help myself, can I?” he sighed, touching your face. “Everyone loves you, it was so hard to get your attention. I can’t even get a word in.”

“Aww,” you lilted, enamored by him. You touched his face too and kissed the tip of his nose. “We’re alone now. My attention is not going anywhere.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss that made your heart race. You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer to him.

There was no need to discuss anything. You just went with the flow, letting Vernon take you where he wanted to. He laid you down with care and gently kissed your lips. You touched his face, feeling the warmth of his skin and indulging yourself.

“Is this mine?” he whispered when you parted, making butterflies run wild in your belly.

Your brows furrowed slightly, confused but giddy at the same time. “What does that even mean?”

“I just want to know if it is.” He took the hand you were using to touch his face and then kissed it. “Mine.”

Then he leaned to kiss your cheek. “Mine.”

The puzzled look on your face remained. “Speak properly, Vernon.”

“It’s Hansol.”

“Huh?”

He kissed your hand again and placed it on his face. “I’m all yours, love. I’m surrendering myself to you. So please, it’s Hansol.”

“Hansol…” you echoed, voice trailing off when he ducked to kiss your neck. It didn’t take long for desire to cloud your mind. His touch was as good as it was the first time. No, actually, he got better the more you did it with him. It was as if he was studying you each time you let him touch you, and little by little, he was starting to memorize you.

His kisses went lower, and lower as he expertly undressed you. With each kiss, he said, ‘Mine’. Your neck, your collarbone, the space between your breasts, and the area above your belly button, your hip, your inner thighs— he marked all of it, calling them his.

“Tell me, y/n,” Vernon questioned, his voice deep and raspy. “Are you mine?”

“All yours,” you gasped, aching to be touched where he was refusing to touch you.

“All mine?”

“Yes, Hansol,” you replied, biting your lips. “All yours.” 

“Good girl.” You flinched when his nose pressed on your underwear, putting pressure on the sex underneath it. He kissed that too. “All mine.”

The nights you spent together became more frequent, each one blurring the line between physical attraction and emotional connection. As the days went on, you couldn't help but notice the little things about Vernon that made your heart flutter. The way he laughed, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when you were together. You tried to remind yourself that this was supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement, but your heart was beginning to have other ideas.

Especially considering how things are going between you right now. After the hiking trip, Vernon told you he would stop resisting the urge to approach you, even with your friends present. You told him to do as he liked, finally allowing things to unfold naturally. It was a liberating decision, knowing you will no longer have to walk on eggshells and keep pretending Vernon is just another friend.

As the days passed, you and Vernon fell into a comfortable routine. Mornings often began with leisurely breakfasts at Jade’s house or on your patio, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee blending with the salty sea breeze. The group would often split up for various activities—some would go hiking along the coastal trails, some would prefer to shop or sight-see, while others, like you and Vernon, preferred the relaxation of the beach.

One night, after another secret rendezvous, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment with Vernon. You hated the idea of temporary relationships, the kind that only lasted for a season and then fizzled out. But the thought of losing what you had with Vernon was starting to feel unbearable.

“Get it together, y/n,” you muttered to yourself, trying to push the feelings away. But deep down, you knew it was already too late. You were falling for him, and there was no turning back.

The next day, you went out with Vernon to go sightseeing. Wandering through narrow streets lined with quaint shops and cafes, you found yourselves in a small art gallery. The cool interior was a welcome respite from the heat, and you both wandered among the paintings, discussing your favorites and discovering new aspects of each other's personalities.

“I didn't know you were into abstract art,” Vernon said, stopping in front of a vibrant canvas.

You shrugged, smiling. “Oh, I’m not. I just like to stare at it like it’s a compelling puzzle.”

“A compelling puzzle?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Whenever I see one, I try to decode any message or find the hidden figures. But visually, I wouldn't buy one and put it on display.”

He nodded thoughtfully, taking your hand as you moved to the next exhibit. The simple gesture of holding hands felt natural, and it sent a thrill through you every time.

Later, as you sat in a cozy café, sipping iced lattes and watching the world go by, Vernon brought up a topic that had been on your mind as well.

“I've been thinking about what you said, about not wanting this to be just a summer fling,” he began, stirring his drink absentmindedly. “And I think I agree. I’m still not sure what it would mean for us, though.”

You looked at him, grateful for his honesty. “It means being realistic about what we want and what we're willing to do to make it work.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I'm willing to try if you are.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “One step at a time, Hansol.”

He grinned, a spark of determination in his eyes. “One step at a time.”

Back at the beach house, the evenings were filled with laughter and conversations as usual. Despite your efforts to keep things low-key, your friends began to notice the growing closeness between you and Vernon. 

As you sat around the bonfire, Adie couldn't help but tease you. “So y/n, Vernon seems to be spending a lot of time with you. Anything you want to tell us?”

You felt your cheeks flush and shot Vernon a quick glance. He smiled reassuringly but you didn’t know what it meant. So you responded with, “We're just enjoying each other's company. No need to make it a big deal.”

Your friends laughed and let the topic drop, but you could tell they weren't entirely convinced. As the night wore on, you found yourself snuggled up next to Vernon, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his presence making you feel at ease.

Vernon offered to walk you home that night, ignoring the teasing from your friends. Hand in hand, you trekked the sidewalk while talking and laughing about random things. When you reached the house, you invited him inside, asking if he wanted to sleep over.

“Have I ever said no to that?” Vernon asked, the glimmer in his irresistibly beautiful.

“Alright. Come on in then,” you chuckled. 

When you entered the house, you found your mom’s designs on the floor again, making you feel nervous. She should be asleep by now, but judging by this, it looks like she’s pulling an all-nighter. You looked around to find her, and when you couldn’t, you assumed she had gone to sleep so you ushered Vernon in.

“Watch your step. These are Mom’s designs. She said she gets more efficient when she can compare and contrast her works like this. It looks like a mess, but it’s not all clutter,” you explained, treading carefully. “That’s just how she works.”

“I see. You take after her then,” Vernon chuckled, letting you guide him across the room to the staircase. 

“I get that all the time from family and friends,” you replied, reminiscing.

“If you don’t mind me asking, is your dad around? I haven’t really seen him.”

You were surprised by the question, but you didn’t mind answering it. “Oh, they’re not together anymore. They got divorced when I was fourteen.”

Vernon’s face dropped. “Sorry to hear that.”

“No, it’s okay. We’re not on bad terms. I see him sometimes when I visit him in France.”

“That’s far.”

“I know,” you chuckled as you reached for your bedroom door. Before you could open it, however, the door to your mom’s room opened, and she flicked the lights on instantly. “Mom!” you exclaimed.

Getting caught by your mother as you were bringing a guy home? Embarrassing. 

Your mother stared at you and Vernon for a minute before speaking. “Vernon, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She hummed in acknowledgment. “I guess everything’s going well between you, seeing how you’re walking in through the front door this time instead of the back.”

You gasped loudly. “Mom! How did you even know that?”

She just smiled coyly, not saying anything as she walked down the stairs to go back to her work.

“Does that mean she’s known the whole time?” Vernon asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

You sighed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. “Apparently. Moms always know more than they let on.”

Vernon laughed softly as you entered your bedroom. “I think it went well, all things considered. She didn't seem mad or anything.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to your bed and sitting down. “She's pretty cool about stuff like this. I just didn't expect her to know about us sneaking around.”

Vernon sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “At least we don't have to hide anymore,” he said gently.

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. "Yeah, that's a relief."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, your head leaning on your chest as you listened to the sound of his heart and enjoyed the peace and quiet of your room.

“So,” he began, breaking the silence, “What do you want to do now?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Movie? We could watch something and just relax.”

Vernon grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

You stood up and went to your small collection of DVDs and streaming options, picking out a movie you both liked. Vernon made himself comfortable on your bed, and you joined him once the movie was ready to start. Snuggling up under the blankets, you hit play, and the room was soon filled with the familiar sounds of your favorite film.

As the movie played, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. Vernon’s presence beside you was comforting, and you were grateful for the way things were unfolding. His hand found yours under the blanket, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. You smiled, squeezing back.

Halfway through, you felt yourself growing drowsy. Vernon’s arm around you was warm and secure, and you found it hard to keep your eyes open. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep, the movie still playing softly in the background.

Vernon watched you for a moment, a fond smile on his face. He gently kissed your forehead before settling down beside you, pulling the blanket up to keep you both warm. As he drifted off to sleep, he felt a sense of contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window. You blinked your eyes open, realizing you were still curled up next to Vernon. He was already awake, watching you with a soft smile.

“Morning,” you mumbled, stretching.

“Morning,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, really well,” you said, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” he admitted.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. “I’m glad.”

Today is an uneventful day, like most days. You have nothing planned and you intend to just lounge about all day. Vernon seemed to like the idea, so after driving your mom to the airport for a business trip, you ordered takeout breakfasts and went back to your house.

You laid out the food on the coffee table in the living room, and the two of you sat cross-legged on the floor, chatting softly as you ate.

"How's the croissant?" you asked, tearing off a piece of your own pastry and popping it into your mouth.

"It's amazing," Vernon replied with a grin, crumbs dusting the corner of his lips. "Want a bite?" He held out his half-eaten croissant, and you leaned forward to take a bite, savoring the buttery, flaky goodness.

"Delicious," you mumbled, your mouth full. He laughed, shaking his head affectionately.

After breakfast, you cleaned up together, moving in sync as you cleared the table and washed the dishes. The kitchen was filled with the sound of running water and the clinking of plates, but it felt peaceful, even meditative.

With the kitchen clean, you both moved to the living room. Vernon sprawled out on the couch, and you settled beside him, your head resting on his chest. He absently ran his fingers through your hair creating a soothing rhythm.

You reached for your book on the coffee table and Vernon grabbed his phone, each of you sinking into your own world. The living room was quiet except for the occasional sound of turning pages and the soft taps from Vernon's phone.

The silence was comfortable, the kind that envelops you like a warm blanket. You glanced up occasionally, stealing glances at Vernon, who seemed engrossed in whatever he was looking at. He'd sometimes smile at something on his screen, and you couldn't help but feel content seeing him so relaxed.

After a while, Vernon shifted, placing his phone down. "What are you reading?" he asked softly, not wanting to break the tranquility of the moment.

"Just something I should have finished reading a long time ago," you replied, showing him the cover. "It's pretty interesting."

"What's it about?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You gave him a brief summary, and he listened attentively, his eyes on you the whole time. "Sounds good. Maybe I'll borrow it when you're done," he said with a smile.

"Sure," you nodded, going back to your book while he picked up his phone again.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Time seemed to slow down as you both lost yourselves in your respective activities, yet remained deeply aware of each other's presence. Strangely, it felt intimate, and you took it as a testament to how comfortable you'd become with each other.

As the afternoon turned into evening, you both decided to cook dinner together. You made pasta, working seamlessly as a team. Vernon chopped vegetables while you prepared the sauce, and soon the kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of your meal.

Over dinner, you talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and dreams, and simply enjoying each other's company. When the meal was over, you did the dishes together, laughing and chatting as you worked.

The night ended with you both lying on the hammock on the patio, swaying gently as you watched the stars overhead and listened to the sounds of nature—the birds calling, crickets humming in the early evening, and the waves pushing and pulling at the shore. Vernon held you close, and you felt his steady heartbeat under your cheek.

“Today was perfect,” you whispered, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you.

“It really was,” he agreed, kissing the top of your head. “Let's have more days like this.”

“Absolutely,” you murmured, feeling completely at peace. But then you remembered a crucial detail that made your heart sink. “But you’re leaving in two days.”

Vernon hummed, confused. “Already?”

“Yes.”

The month passed too quickly for your liking. Ironically, when your friends were planning their stay, you initially thought staying here for a whole month was too long for them. Now that the time is almost up, you realize it wasn’t that long after all. Your relationship with Vernon aside, you had loved every moment spent with your friends—the parties, the bonfire sessions, showing them around town, introducing them to your old friends, and all that. You realized how much stronger your bond with them has become and now you dreaded the inevitable.

You especially dreaded seeing Vernon leave. Although your beginning was quite unconventional in your opinion, it blossomed into something beautiful. You didn’t want to lose it just yet. Your emotions for each other might be strong now, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still haven’t officially decided on the status of your relationship. Vernon was vague about it, but you took it in stride because it was better than nothing at all.

“I’m gonna miss Azure Bay,” he said, tightening his hold on you.

“I’m sure you’ll be missed around here too,” you chimed, closing your eyes in an attempt to push your worries away.

“Should I stay a bit longer?” he suggested, looking at you so you opened your eyes. “Or should we go back together? We could spend the rest of the summer at my home.”

You just scoffed. “As if.”

“Come on. It’s gonna be fun. We have a farm. It’s quite impressive,” he added, feeling proud.

“You’re serious?” you asked, unconvinced.

“Of course I am!” he said, grinning toothily.

You pondered for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of his offer. If he’s serious, then doesn’t this mean your relationship is official? He’s not the type to casually bring every girl he’s seeing to meet his family, right?

“I’ll think about it.”

Vernon seemed pleased, poking your nose before kissing you. As you kissed under the fading light, you felt a mixture of emotions—excitement, fear, hope. Things had been uncertain for a while now, but it’s starting to look up for you. Despite your initial reservations, you were starting to believe that this could be more than just a summer romance.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. You stretched and turned to find Vernon still asleep beside you, his face peaceful in the early morning light. You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Determined to make the most of your remaining time together, you planned a surprise for Vernon. After breakfast, he had to go back to Jade’s house to take care of his belongings. While he was gone, you started working on your treat. You made sandwiches, drinks, and sliced fruits. Then you packed them securely, loading them in a picnic basket along with a large picnic mat. You included your book in the basket and a half-empty bottle of wine from your mom’s collection.

As soon as he returned from Jade’s, you grabbed his hand and led him down a hidden path that wound through the dunes, opening up to a secluded deck. With his help, you boarded a small boat, and he rowed you into the water while you guided him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, pointing your phone’s camera at him.

“Honestly?” he asked, chuckling. “I think I might have a heart attack.”

You snorted, pretending to be unamused. “Don’t overreact, Hansol.”

Vernon chuckled heartily, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’m serious. I’m so excited that my heart can’t calm down.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat,” you told him, giggling.

You took pictures together, lots of them. While he rowed and enjoyed the majestic view, you captured his reactions and marveled at how beautiful he was in the pictures. But ultimately, no camera could ever give justice to how amazing he looked in real life.

“No way,” he exclaimed as you neared your destination. Rowing faster, he repeated. “No fucking way. Are you serious?”

You nodded proudly. “I am.”

The island sat idly, surrounded by clear blue waters. The sky was a canvas of soft blues and whites, with the sun casting a golden glow over everything. As you approached the dock, Vernon couldn’t contain his amazement, showering praises for the place and for you bringing him there.

“Technically, it was you who brought us here,” you smiled, watching him securely tie the boat to the dock.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Vernon said, his eyes lighting up as he took in the scene.

You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at his reaction. “Come on.”

You set up the picnic, spreading the mat on a cozy spot under a shady tree. After snapping a few more pictures, you both settled down to eat. The sun made the water glimmer, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you. The sound of waves gently lapping against the shore also created a soothing backdrop. The sandwiches were simple but delicious, and the wine added a touch of elegance to the meal.

As you enjoyed the picnic, you talked about your hopes and dreams, sharing stories from your past and envisioning possibilities for the future. The more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common and how much you enjoyed each other's company. 

After a while, Vernon lay back on the mat, pulling you down with him. You nestled into his side, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

“This is perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft and content.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you replied, closing your eyes and savoring the moment.

Time seemed to slow down as you lay there, feeling completely at peace in each other’s presence. You didn’t need to say much; just being together was enough. The island, the picnic, the gentle rhythm of the waves – everything was just right.

You spent the day lounging on the mat, sometimes talking, other times just enjoying the comfortable silence too, where you just sat together, listening to the waves and feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. Vernon occasionally played with your hair, his fingers gently untangling knots or just running through it. You read a book, leaning against his chest, while he scrolled through his phone, sharing funny memes or interesting articles he came across.

At one point, you fed each other pieces of fruit, laughing when you missed his mouth and he pretended to be mortally wounded. By 3 in the afternoon, the sun casted a beautiful golden hue over the island. You watched Vernon glow magnificently under this golden light, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. You knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always hold a special place in your heart.

“You should have brought that spearfishing thing you had in your shed,” he quipped after a while.

“Do you even know how to use it?”

“No,” he confessed, chuckling. “But it shouldn’t be so hard, right?”

“No clue. I didn’t like fishing so I wasn’t interested in knowing how it worked.”

“Oh. It wasn’t a good idea then.”

You huffed impatiently. “Yeah, it wasn’t. And even if one of us knew how to use it, I still wouldn’t bring it here. I would hate for this to be ruined by you running around trying to catch some fish instead of spending all your time with me.”

Vernon’s chest vibrated as he laughed, finding your cute aggression endearing. 

You pushed yourself up, sitting so you could look him in the face. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. I’m serious.”

Vernon shifted on his side, touching your chin with his fingers so he could look into your eyes. “Do you have any idea, the slightest clue, about how adorable you are?"

You smiled, your ire long forgotten as your heart swelled with affection. “You're just trying to sweet talk me again,” you replied before leaning in to kiss him gently. His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss deepened as he pulled you closer, his hand caressing your back.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing in sync. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.

Your heart picked up its pace, surprised and ecstatic because of his unexpected confession. You were right, after all. This is no longer a fleeting summer romance. You and Vernon have developed something more than just that. 

“I love you too,” you replied, feeling the truth of your words resonate deep within you.

He kissed you again, this time, more fervently. You moved to straddle him, your sundress spreading gracefully across his waist. Vernon sat up for a better position, his hand slipping under your dress and feeling up the smooth skin of your thigh. The more you kissed him, the crazier your head went. 

You let him touch you, kiss you, and undress you. His kisses trailed all the way to your breasts, and his hands expertly traced your every curve. At this point in time, you can finally say Vernon has successfully memorized you.

You kept grinding on his crotch, eager to satisfy the aching between your legs. “Why’d you have to wear those jeans?” you complained, frustrated by the rough fabric of his pants.

Vernon chuckled heartily, lifting your legs and gently pushing you off of him. “Whatever happened to decency and not doing scandalous acts in public?”  

You scoffed as he lay you down on the mat. “Would you like to stop here, then?”

“No. Absolutely not,” he replied, unbuckling his belt and dipping low to kiss you again.

As he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingertips lingered on your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in their wake. It was a bribe, a gentle gesture to distract you while he tried to be one with you again– in body and soul.

An exclaim tore out of your mouth, surprised when his manhood slid through you completely. It wasn’t rough, nor was it painful, it was a cry of pleasure. Vernon shushed you, cooing at you as he began moving between your legs. It didn’t take long for you to get used to it. Your body has known him after all the nights you had spent together. You and Vernon have become a perfect pair, fitting perfectly with each other in every way as if it were by design.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he rasped, kissing the side of your mouth down to your neck. “You have no idea how much you drive me crazy.”

“Oh, Hansol,” you cried needily, not restraining your moans and confidently screaming his name. 

“Yes, love,” Vernon growled, his pace getting rougher the louder you got. “That’s my name. That’s my fucking name!”

Your breaths synchronized, a rough but steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of your heart. He moved closer as if you were not already joined together. The remaining space between you dissolved, replaced by a closeness that felt both comforting and exhilarating. Vernon's gaze softened, and he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. The scent of him enveloped you, familiar and comforting.

“I love you,” he whispered as he continued ramming into you. 

The kiss that followed that confession made you delirious, completely overcome by passion and desire for Vernon. Every touch and every whisper of breath against your skin added to the mounting tension, a heady sensation of pleasure and anticipation. Your heart raced, each beat echoing the intensity of the moment.

You screamed his name, begged him not to stop, and moved with the rhythm of his body. You tugged and scratched and shamelessly bucked your hips to meet his. Until the high finally came crashing through. Time seemed to blur, and for a moment, the world was nothing but pure, unadulterated sensation. Every muscle in your body contracted and then relaxed. The feeling was overwhelming, a blissful explosion that left you breathless and trembling.

Vernon thrust a few more times into you before he too let out a guttural grunt and fell on your side, catching his breath with a content smile on his lips. You moved closer to him, nuzzling your face on his chest. Your mind floated in a sea of euphoria, your body pulsing with the aftershocks of the intense release.

“What if someone saw?” he quipped, playing with the ends of your hair.

You giggled. “People rarely come to this part of the bay.”

As the day came to a close, you packed up your things and got back into the boat. Vernon rowed you back to the mainland, both of you wrapped in a comfortable silence. Just as the sun was about to set, you found yourselves back on the beach, walking hand in hand along the shore. The sky was painted with brilliant hues of orange and pink, and the waves glowed with the last light of the day. It was at that moment, with the beauty of the sunset surrounding you, that you realized just how much Vernon meant to you.

It was a memorable day, forever etched in your memory. Even as you stood alone at the airport, watching the plane that was supposed to take you and Vernon to his home fly to the sky, the memories from that little island replayed in your head. That man who said he loved you has flown away, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

[To be continued in Part 2]

[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، lipstick stamp ،، ⌇ 승철

pairing .ᐟ nerdy!seungcheol × mean!fem!reader genre .ᐟ college au , crush word count .ᐟ 0.7k song rec. .ᐟ fall in love alone - stacey ryan

click clack click clack

the sound of clacking heels fills up the bustling hall, as the red chunky heels steps on the marble floor, leaving trace of her present. it belongs to nobody other than her, the infamous chwe y/n.

with her sharp tongue and sharper intellect, she ruled the academic scene. professors admired her brilliance, but peers tread carefully around her acid wit. beneath her icy exterior, a butterfly lives in her snowy garden.

a guy named choi seungcheol has been her main attention. he was everything she wasn't. a quiet, introverted and intensely focused, he excelled in his studies with a passion that burns the desire in y/n to have him. his faded-orange hair, thick glasses, good baggy fashion sense and habit of pouting his lips when scrabbling in his ever-present notebook only added to his nerdy charm.

or when he rests himself on a tree, closing his eyes and listening to music with wired earphones, as wind gently messes his soft hair. only God knows how heaven he looks in your eyes.

you halt your steps when you reach the study booth, where he likes to spend his time. a grins stamps on your lips, as you confidently walked up to him with a cherry flavored lollipop in your mouth. as the distance gets nearer and nearer, you can actually feel the nervousness take over. damn y/n, just do it!

once you're actually in front of the table he studied, you knock on it as he's too focused on his notebook, unaware of the surroundings. as he started to move his head from the book, to your white lacy tights and up to your face.

the urge to not kiss him when his pouty lips and his doe eyes looking straight into your orbs. Lord, have mercy on me. his thick eyebrows frown, puzzled by your presence.

“yes?”

that one word almost makes you squeal like a giddy girl. you keep your posture straight and cross your arms with the lollipop in your hands. you lean your side on the wall.

“i need your notes from our previous lecture.” you declared, though it was more an order than a request.

“why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “you didn't miss a lecture today.”

“just give them to me.” you snapped, rolling your eyes.

with a sigh, seungcheol handed his notebook that he reads previously. as you took it, his fingers brushed briefly against yours, sending a jolt through you. you turned your heel and marched away, leaving a confused seungcheol staring after you.

later that evening, you sat in your dorm room, seungcheol’s notebook open on her desk. you couldn't help but admire his meticulous handwriting and detailed notes. it was then that you noticed a small, doodled heart in the corner of one page, next to a formula that we had discussed in class. the sight made her smile.

mom, your daughter is really in love right now. you close the notebook and laid on your bed, still smiling like crazy.

gosh , what a man you are, choi.

the next day, you returned the notebook. you found seungcheol in his second favorite spot, library, buried in a stack of books. without a word, you dropped it on the table infront of him. he looked up, surprised to see her.

“thanks,” he said awkwardly.

you nodded and turned to leave, but then paused. a sly smirk pasted on your lips as your hands rummaged through your bag and pulled a tube of bright red lipstick. seungcheol watched, bewildered, as you applied it with practiced precision. before he could say anything, you leaned over and pressed your lips firmly on against the cover of his notebook, leaving a bold, red imprint.

“there,” you said, as your voice sounds softer than usual. “a little trace of mine”

seungcheol stared at the notebook, then at her, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “why… why did you do that?” he stammered.

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “maybe i wanted to leave my mark on what's about to be mine. see you around, cheollie.”

as you walked away, seungcheol was still processing what just happened. the nickname, and the red lips mark on his notebook. he touched the lipstick mark, a smile creep on his face. for the first time, he saw beyond y/n’s harsh exterior to the complex, intriguing person beneath. what have gotten into you, choi seungcheol.

[inbarfink]

So when discussing the ending of ‘Over the Garden Wall’ and the nature of the Unknown in general, I think it is important to remember that it’s left deliberately up for interpretation. You know, it’s not a Quiz with one concrete answer we must uncover, but it’s more about our interpretations and personal feelings. Each and every one of us experiences that journey with Wirt and Greg into the Unknown in a slightly different way. 

So what I want to do here is not present a Correct Interpretation that will dispute all the others and prove them all wrong and prove myself right, I just want to share my own outlook on the nature of the Unknown. In the hopes that others will like it and it’ll inspire more cool readings and interpretations

So on some level I do agree with the popular theory that the Unknown is some sort of Afterlife - but I don’t see it as a regular Afterlife for human souls, I think it is an afterlife for Stories. This place is where fictional characters and stories end up once they’ve been totally forgotten by the living, ‘lost in the clouded annals of history’. and become.... unknown It is quite literally a place where ‘long forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood’.

That’s why the Unknown is a mishmash of different time periods and primarily visually and narratively influenced by stuff like fairy tales, ghost stories, children’s books and old cartoons - these stories have a high-tendency to be forgotten and thus get lost in the Unknown (whatever it’s because they rely on oral traditions or because they suffered from very poor preservation historically). 

And that is what the theme song, ‘Into the Unknown’ is talking about…

Where can we pretend that dreams do come true? In Stories.

And what are ‘the loveliest lies of all’? Now that would be Fiction. 

The entire concept of stories is a huge theme of this song, I think.

Beatrice and her family, Adelaide of the Pasture, Auntie Whispers and Lorna were all originally fairy tales. Maybe the same fairy tale, or maybe they were originally separated before being ‘melded’ together. (If, for example, the last child to Remember them before they were forgotten just assumed the Bad Witch in both the Auntie Whispers and Beatrice stories was Adelaide)

Pottsfield was an old urban legend about a haunted ghost town, Wirt and Greg basically played through its ‘plot’ directly. 

Miss Langtree, the schoolhouse and the other associated characters come from a long-forgotten and out-of-print children’s book. That’s why those characters tend to talk in comically-stilted expository dialogue. 

The Tavern was the setting for a series of 20’s animated cartoons.  (Although obviously set long before that era). The Tavern Keeper was created as a Betty Boop clone and was the main character. The Tavern setting was probably a mere framing device for all sort of musical animations. The reason why none of them can comprehend the idea of not having some sort of Title or Label is because that’s how they were written - all given job-related titles but not named.

Fred the Talking Horse was a main character from a forgotten tradition of humorous oral stories where he was sometimes a trickstery anti-hero and sometimes a straight-up comedic villain protagonist.

Quincy Endicott and Margueritte Grey were characters from a satiric limerick about the greedy rich and their wacky habits. (Quincy was at least inspired by a real-life person since his name appears on a tombstone in the real world)

Possibly the same limerick where the punchline was the status-quo at the beginning of their OTGW ep, that both rivals’ mansions have become connected and they assume the other is a ghost haunting their house. Or maybe they were each from different regional variations of the same limerick about a greedy rich weirdo being lost in their own house and going mad. 

Frogland and their little boat might be from a children’s book as well, but I also think that maybe… from the vignettes shown at the opening of the series…

That one might take place outside the Unknown, and shows the real inception of Frogland. Two brothers making up stories with their toy boat by the river. Since they never shared these stories with anyone else, when these two brothers died or maybe just grew up and forgot their boyhood misadventures by the stream - these stories also ended up in the Unknown. 

The Fishing Fish we see briefly in ‘Babes in the Woods’ might be a small comedic illustration from a children’s book, or another piece of limerick, or just someone’s random notebook doodle that gained a life of its own first in the creator’s mind and then in the Unknown. 

Cloud City, the North Wind and the Queen of the Clouds were also, much like the Tavern, from a very old cartoon.

The Beast was once just a mere Boogie Man to keep young children from wandering off into the woods. Ending up forgotten in the Unknown just ended up giving him a whole world of lost souls to harvest. 

Maybe the Woodsman and his daughter were always a part of the story of the Beast. But since it seems that the Woodsman being a lantern-bearer is a fairly recent development - they might have had their own separate story. Some sort of pastoral novel about a family moving near the woods? But their narrative has been ‘hijacked’ by the Beast. 

Wirt and Greg ended up lost within the Unknown cause had they actually died in the lake that night - they would have become a Story in their town. I mean we have a moody lonely teenager and his adorable little brother disappearing/dying - on the night of Halloween - after last being seen in a graveyard - with the older brother’s last act on this earth being to hand his crush a cassette of his love poetry. Can you imagine what sort of Urban Legenda you can grow from those seeds?

But as they were not yet dead, and not a Story yet… so they were technically an Unknown story. Between the borders of life and death from a human perspective because they were about to die, and from a Story perspective because they were just about to be born.

And the ending sequence, with the little vignettes showing where all the characters from all the episodes ended up. I think that’s almost like Wirt and Greg back in the world of the living and the real - being able to create happy endings for all of those stories they've met. That’s how the Woodsman’s daughter ended up being alive all along - it was less that the Woodsman's whole tragedy was a wacky misunderstanding all along. But it became so as a gift of thanks by their new storytellers - Wirt and Greg.

Because if dreams can't come true, than why not pretend?

[callumsluvr]

dad!rafe and vivi at a daddy daughter dance 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG!!!!

she would be so excited!!! i think that momma and Rafe would still have a sitter for the babies on the night of midsummers because they’re still too little and it gives momma and Rafe a date night, so this is the first time that Vivi gets to dress up like momma does and go dance with her daddy. you’d go out like the week before with Vivienne and auntie Sarah and have a girls day, grabbing lunch and picking out soooo many dresses to try on, and eventually she finds a cute powder blue dress with little white flowers and puffed sleeves.

“i look so pretty, momma!” Vivienne says as she twirls and examines herself in the mirror in the dressing room of some expensive boutique on the mainland. safe to say, you bought the dress immediately.

*

a week later, Rafe wakes Vivi up and takes her to get a special breakfast, just the two of them, while you watch the other two girls and make sure that Vivi has everything she needs for tonight, while picking out Rafes outfit for the night.

after breakfast, he takes her to go get her nails painted whatever color she wants, and of course, she picks pink. it doesn’t really go with her outfit, but Rafe just wants his little girl to be happy so he doesn’t care at all.

*

after having a pool day with all the girls and Rafe, you get Vivi bathed and ready to go while he ran to the store to get her flowers.

“Daddy, are you ready?” Vivi giggles while she comes down the stairs. Rafe is standing, with his arm around your waist, in his powder blue button down tucked into his light khaki pants and his Richard Mille watch. you both watch Vivienne come down, and when she reaches the end, she twirls and giggles. you look over at Rafe and you can see tears well in his eyes.

he quickly pushes those down when she comes running to him, asking if he thinks she looks pretty. he quickly reassures her and takes her to the kitchen to see the vase of flowers that are specially for her.

*

after millions of pictures of the two, he sets her in her car seat in the back of his giant, black truck and turns on her playlist of Disney songs that has taken over his spotify since having girls.

pulling up to the country club, he parks in his parking spot that he bought as a hefty donation to the girls’ school.

“alright, Vivi girl, are you ready?” Rafe asks, opening her door. she nods, excitedly, and unbuckles, while holding her arms out so he can get her out of the car.

the club is decorated in pinks, whites, and flowers, seeing that the theme was Garden Tea Party.

Vivienne squeezes Rafe’s hand as they get closer, getting excited after seeing all the decorations and hearing the music blaring. Rafe checks the two in, while Vivienne chats away to her teacher who’s chaperoning.

after they get further inside, Vivienne spends the next hour dancing and playing with her friends, while Rafe - ever the social butterfly - stays against the wall, watching her. he chats to a few of the dads that he knows, and even a few that he doesn’t. mainly about business and when he hears them start to complain about their wives, he excuses himself. he has nothing else to add to that conversation.

the next hour is spent with the two of them dancing, sometimes to Taylor Swift, and then sometimes slower songs where he tries to make her laugh to avoid thinking about how the lyrics are extremely relevant to kids growing up and getting older.

at the end of the night, Rafe’s holding a sleepy Vivienne in his arms and in his pants pocket is multiple strips of pictures from the photobooth that Vivi became obsessed with. some are with her and her friends, but the majority are of her and Rafe.

*

the next morning, all Vivienne can talk about is how much fun her and her daddy had and how she can’t wait for next years.

[writingjourney]

Of Lemon Tarts and Tiny White Rabbits

Secondo, Earl of Griftwood, cannot believe his eyes when a tiny white rabbit scampers into his study. He is stunned even more when he meets the lovely owner of the pet – and promptly falls in love.

pairing: secondo x female!reader // regency AU

content: 4.6k words, regency AU (not 100% historically accurate but I tried), pov third person, forbidden romance, age gap, first kisses, social hierarchies, mildly suggestive at times, soft!secondo, pining and yearning etc., wingman terzo

This is a birthday present for the lovely @tasty-ribz , also special thanks to @angellayercake for encouraging me to bring Snowbell into this story ✨🐰

Masterlist – Ao3 link

The curtains sway gently in the soft breeze that carries a fragrant spring air into his study. Secondo lifts his gaze to take in the lovely view through the open double doors which lead to a balcony and the well-kept gardens of Emeritus Manor. Lush rose bushes climb up the stone walls and wrap around the railings, dark green speckled with the pink of countless flowers. Somewhere in the trees the birds break out in song, their melodic chirping a pleasant background noise that accompanies him as he maintains his correspondence.

After this short reprieve for his eyes, he dips the quill back into the black pot of ink on his bureau. A few more letters and he can settle outside in the shade for his afternoon tea, perhaps even indulge and allow himself a lemon tart to go with it. He can’t remember hiring a new cook and yet he swears the smell of freshly baked pastries has filled the halls of the estate more frequently as of late, their taste tempting even him who is usually not one for desserts.

A movement in his peripheral vision distracts him momentarily but when he looks up there is nothing unusual to be seen. Secondo watches the curtains, assuring himself that it must have been the wind playing tricks on him. With a frown on his face, he focuses back on his letters. After a moment, however, he glances back up, suddenly sensing a presence in the room. When he still cannot detect anything out of the ordinary, he assumes that it must have been a ghost wandering the old halls of the manor – it would not be the first time.

Over the scratching sounds of his quill he almost misses the tiny squeak that passes his ears only a moment later. A mouse? No ghosts that haunt him after all. He lets his eyes roam the walls that are lined with bookshelves, trying to spot any scurrying movements on the elaborately patterned rug that muffles the sound. At last, he glances down to his feet and surprise takes over his stern features.

A white baby rabbit sits next to his shoe, its tiny pink nostrils moving rapidly as it sniffs the leather with utmost interest. The creature cannot be bigger than his palm. Where could it possibly come from? As far as he is aware, they do not keep any rabbits, let alone breed them.

“Snowbell?” The voice that suddenly sounds from the balcony is soft and melodic, a young woman he cannot quite place. “Snowbell, where did you go?”

Her figure appears in the frame a mere moment later and she flinches back when she spots Secondo at his desk through the open doors. She immediately averts her eyes, her hair falling into her face and covering her features.

“Please, forgive me for the disturbance, my lord.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he replies. “I understand you are looking for this little troublemaker here?” 

Secondo leans down to pick up the rabbit. Indeed it fits neatly into his gloved palm and he regrets that he cannot feel the soft fur against his fingers. The bunny breathes rapidly, its small body excited or scared, he cannot quite tell.

“Oh, you found her! Thank the lord, I thought she was lost forever.”

“Will you relieve me of her, then? She seems quite restless.”

The young woman who he cannot remember seeing before cautiously enters and with a lowered gaze approaches his desk. Secondo admires her for a moment, her striking complexion and the mesmerising way with which hair shimmers in the golden sunlight. Young and innocent, the daughter of a servant perhaps if the state of her dress is any indication. Yet it does not diminish her beauty nor her youthful radiance; he can tell that she is perhaps five-and-twenty.

She reaches for the bunny and he hands it over the desk, feeling her fingers brushing against his. Again he regrets the barrier between his skin and the world around him but even so he can tell that the heat has risen to her cheeks. She does not seem to be used to the presence of her superiors. He’s well aware of his reputation as a rather reserved and intimidating employer.

“I am not certain that I know your name,” he says before she can scurry off, skittish like the tiny animal that appears a little taller now in her smaller hands.

She replies with her name and a curtsy, not quite lady-like in practice but Secondo can tell that she must have enjoyed a good upbringing. Perhaps she has experience working for nobility.

“Where do you belong to, my girl?”

“I am François’s daughter, my lord.”

“Ah, sì, the new gardener?”

“Yes, my lord.”

He nods, watching her pet the rabbit with her slender fingers as if to calm herself. “And how do you like it here?”

“It is extraordinarily beautiful, my lord. The estate is magnificent and I quite enjoy the work in the kitchens.”

“The kitchens? So it is you who prepares these scrumptious lemon tarts?”

She nods, smiling a bit shyly. “It is a French recipe, my lord. My mother taught me how to make it when I was a wee girl and she worked for the Earl of Carlisle.”

“Are there any lemon tarts today, per chance?”

“I made a fresh batch just this morning, my lord.”

“Wonderful. Now, bring your Snowbell to safety before she scuttles away again.”

“Thank you most kindly, my lord. I promise to be more careful when I take her outside.”

He watches the young woman’s retreating form, reminding himself not to covet what he should not have. It is quite hard at the sight of such a sublime creature, though he rarely allows himself to indulge in thoughts of his carnal desires. The way she takes care of the animal tells him that she has a kind soul and how he could he ever taint it with his rotten hands?

Secondo stands to take his afternoon tea, looking forward to a generous serving of the fresh lemon tarts. He closes the balcony doors before he departs, his correspondence quite forgotten.

✦ ✧ ✦

He is too absorbed in his brother’s letter to notice the music at first.

When he finally does Secondo stops in the middle of the hallway. Rarely does he hear such sweet sounds these days, busy with politics and finances as he is. Ever since inheriting his father’s title as the Earl of Griftwood he is subjected to ball music, loud opera pieces and the talentless daughters of the other lords of the ton. 

This subdued private concert is much more to his liking. 

He folds the letter and pockets it before investigating the source of the music. Primo has written to him from Italy where his clerical duties keep him occupied. Secondo is relieved to learn that his brother is in good health and filling his new role as the leader of their secret church for which he has forsaken his role as the head of their family. A title that has now fallen to Secondo.

Following the trail of the music carries him further down the hall until he stops in front of a double door that stands slightly ajar. The sitting room beyond is abandoned safe for the person who has taken up residence behind the pianoforte and is now delighting the house with their pleasant tunes. Secondo is not one to swoon but when he discovers the gardener’s daughter, watching as her fingers glide over the keys in an elegant dance, he is quite taken with the sight of her. 

It is only after quite some time that he spots the rabbit in her lap.

The piece ends all too soon but Secondo cannot bring himself to reveal his position. He watches on as she lifts Snowbell and places her tiny paws on the keys, playing an easy melody as she giggles and compliments her pet’s musical talent. He thinks that the snow white rabbit is an emblem of her most becoming properties – her soft and lovely presence, her gentle disposition and ethereal beauty. Two creatures that heaven must have forged together. Not for a moment does he think he could ever be worthy of her, no matter if his nobility raises him above her in this strict society. She transcends the rules of birthright and social rank, rules that he has always rejected, if not openly. Perhaps this is why he feels so drawn to her – she represents all that he has ever longed for, all that they strive to achieve with their church of Lucifer.

“I did not know we had a musician in the house,” he finally comments. “Or need I say two musicians?”

She jumps, again, startled by his domineering presence that takes over the room the moment he steps inside. After a few deep breaths she recovers and offers a polite greeting. Snowbell sits in her hand now, no bigger than a baby chick and just as restless. Her head rises as if to greet him as well, tiny button eyes shimmering not without mischief.

“Your brother told me it was alright for me to practice in here and that it is his instrument–”

“I am sorry, my dove, I did not mean to accuse you of anything untoward. Of course you may practice your music in here. We have been deprived of such beautiful sounds for way too long with no ladies in the house.”

Her shoulders sink in relief, the tension finally leaving her. “I hear that his lordship is quite a gifted musician himself. As are his brothers.”

“Ah, sì, sì, if only there was more time for it. I find that without pleasant company I cannot persuade myself to dedicate the time.” He steps further inside the room and takes a seat on one of the velvet settees, moderately close to where she’s now lowering herself back on her stool. His black breeches strain over his thighs and he adjusts his emerald green waistcoat that has ridden up, rights the knot in his cravat. “You play well, piccina. How did you come to master the pianoforte?”

“I may not be of noble upbringing, my lord, but my parents used all their means to ensure that I was educated, perhaps more than befits my station.” Her voice is sharp, not unfriendly but defensive nonetheless. “A person’s rank in society does not determine their talent for musical play.”

“I apologise if I offended your sensibilities, my dove. I did not mean to imply that your origin should have anything to do with your capability of learning an instrument.”

“No apologies are needed, my lord. It is true that such opportunities are not provided to many of my status. I cherish my privileges every day.”

Her eloquence and quick wit impress him, the dignified countenance with which she holds herself even in the face of an older man much above her in station. It would be easy to think that she is a noble lady, if it weren’t for her lack of fine clothing and jewellery. He fights off the urge to accoutre her, to dress her in the finest garments he can find in all of London and Paris or Rome. How lovely she would look with her hair done up, her slender neck exposed for his eyes alone. 

And not just for his eyes.

Before he can inquire any further, Snowbell suddenly leaps from her lap. The rabbit lands on the soft carpet and scampers over towards the settee on her tiny legs.

“Oh, not again Snowbell,” the girl laments, but then she notices the rabbit’s direction and smiles softly. “I suppose she has taken a liking to you, my lord.”

“I hope she is not the only one,” he counters, allowing himself this moment of reverie.

Flustered, she averts her gaze, reacting in much the same way that he hoped she would. “Who could not be taken with him when his lordship is so very generous and kind of heart?”

Secondo smiles to himself as he leans down to pick up the cheeky rabbit, removing one of his dark leather gloves to finally feel the softness of her fur.  “How did you come in possession of such an animal?” he finds himself asking. “She is quite unusual, no?”

“Oh, my father was engaged to work for another noble house in the city just before we came here and he found a nest in their garden. Snowbell was the only white rabbit of the litter. While the children of the house were allowed to keep the other rabbits they thought her cursed and wanted to kill her. I begged him to let me save her and bring her here.”

How charitable, he thinks, saving those who are unwanted, those who are abandoned by God, not differentiating between human or beast. How perfectly she would fit into his family whose ideals and values would have them shunned from society if they lived them openly. Perhaps it was not God who sent her but Lucifer himself. For him to love, to cherish, to worship.

He is aware that he is getting ahead of himself.

Snowbell allows him to pet her but he eventually stands to place the rabbit back in her saviour’s hands. This time, her fingers brush against the bare skin of his palm. A shiver runs through him, tingling down his spine before settling warmly in his lower belly.

Her heated cheeks are evidence that she feels the same way.

“Do you enjoy reading, my girl?” he asks, only now noticing the book she must have placed on the instrument. A romance novel, he notes, not without a hint of disappointment. He could not be any more different from the heroes of such tales if he tried.

“I do, my lord.” She cradles Snowbell gently against her bosom, almost protectively, and he has to tear is his eyes away from the soft skin there. “I am an avid reader when I do find the time.”

“Please, feel free to use my personal library at your convenience. I am sure that you are in want of new reading material. This book appears to be… well-loved.”

“Are you quite certain, my lord? I would not want to impose–”

“Oh, nonsense. Many of the books have been collecting dust for way too long.”

Perhaps this suggestion stems from him wanting her to frequent his spaces and not those of his brother, if only to raise his chances of running into her. If Terzo offered her his instrument then he is sure that his eyes are not the only ones that she has caught. Secondo shares many a thing with his brother, but he will not share her.

“Thank you, my lord,” she says. “I am not sure what I have done to deserve your generosity but I shall cherish it forever.”

“Hm, your services are well-appreciated, my dove. I merely wish to make your life here a little more pleasant.”

She giggles. “His lordship must really like the lemon tarts.”

Her laughter shakes him to his very core. He is tempted to smile, or to tell her that it is not the tarts that have captivated him, but all this foolish impulse does is distort his stern features into a grimace. Before her eyes can linger on him, he departs with quick steps and a racing heart, making sure to leave the door open.

A few moments later the soft tunes of her music accompany him back to his study.

✦ ✧ ✦

The rustling of the page is a steady noise in the background as he works away at the desk he strategically positioned in his library. The expense reports of the estate are all in order and yet he goes over them once more – if only to stretch out the time in her presence. 

He looks up to find Snowbell happily munching on a carrot in her little crate on the floor. His true heart’s desire, however, is reading a romance novel that he so graciously stocked the library with. Not that anyone will ever see a report of this particular expense.

“Are the new books to your liking, my dove?” he finds himself asking.

“They are quite enjoyable, my lord.” She looks up, marking her page before she closes the book. “And yet… I find that I do not want a love like these books promise. It sounds rather boring to me.”

“How so?”

“The true appeal of a person lies in his or her imperfections, my lord. Not even the finest, most handsome young man could tempt me when there is no flaw in his character that captures my interest. If I should ever fall in love it should be with a man much older who has been shaped by the hardships of life, with rough edges but a core that still carries a soft heart that he only shows to those he holds dear. I should like to uncover this heart and have it beat only for me.”

Secondo pauses for a moment. Could it be true? Could a beautiful young woman like her truly fall for an old man such as himself? Accept that their love would be flawed and rejected by society and love him all the more for it? If it is true what she implies then does he dare hope–

“You are quite different from what I expected, my lord,” she says before his thoughts can carry him away. “I have heard many things that I now know to be untrue.”

“And how so?”

“Everyone told me that you were quiet and rather cold, polite but not in the habit of keeping anyone’s company and while generous with your staff they said it is rare to see you outside of your study. And yet… I have only ever sensed your warmth, your generosity, and while you are a private man I feel as though I got to know you merely by being in the same room and striking up idle conversation. You have requested my presence almost daily as of late and I must admit that I find great comfort in spending my time with you, so much so that I feel sad when a day goes by and I cannot see you.”

Secondo stands abruptly, overwhelmed by the sudden sparks of emotion that ignite the fire in a heart he has long since thought to be withered. His long legs carry him to where she is sitting on a plush settee, the golden sun from the window illuminating her like an angel incarnate. She is a dream he finds himself caught in, and not of his own volition.

“My dove,” he says as he kneels down in front of her, grasping her hand tightly in his. “Your companionship is the greatest gift that I have ever received.”

He presses a fervent kiss to her knuckles, quite overcome with his desires. How he longs to pull her into his embrace, to kiss her plump cheeks and soft lips, to keep her trapped against his chest and stroke her hair for hours.

When he meets her eyes, she seems surprised by his sudden outburst, but not at all repelled like he had feared. “My dear lord, how I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

Secondo releases a shuddering breath and buries his face in her lap. When she begins to caress his head, running her soft fingers along the sharp lines of his cheekbones, he feels like he wants to weep.

✦ ✧ ✦

The delivery goes smoothly – until his brother appears in the doorway.

“A new instrument?” Terzo asks. “Whatever for? You could have asked to use mine, fratello.”

Secondo grumbles in reply, wishing his brother would finally leave. He is dressed smartly – a dark purple brocade waistcoat with a matching tailcoat, black breeches, a white cravat, high leather boots and a brand new top hat – ready to leave for a picnic or whatever social event he is planning to attend in pursuit of his latest sweetheart. He has always mirrored Secondo’s expensive taste in clothing but decided that his colour was purple instead of green. If it weren’t for Secondo’s lack of hair and Terzo’s thick black locks their brotherly relation would be uncanny, if not a little ridiculous.

“Do you not have to make an appearance somewhere else?” Secondo asks when his brother lingers while they set up the pianoforte under his watchful eyes. 

“Oh, I still have enough time to observe my brother’s folly. Tell me, did she bewitch you so that you are wasting the family’s funds now? How exactly do you plan on introducing the gardener’s daughter to polite society, fratello?”

A deep breath. Secondo cannot strangulate him in front of the suppliers. “I do not know what you are talking about. I merely wish to possess an instrument of my own.”

“Mhm and the ornate rabbits carved into the wood? Are those to your taste as well?”

“I am very fond of animals. I quite enjoy the design, do you not find it endearing?”

Terzo merely chuckles in reply, the words altogether unfamiliar from his bother’s tongue, and pats his shoulder with a heavy hand. “I will make sure that the pamphlets are filled with someone else’s transgressions, should you decide that a diversion of the ton’s attention is needed in light of your imminent marriage to a commoner.”

Secondo refuses to argue with him, Terzo is too smart for that. Instead he waits until they are alone again and his brother further inspects the pianoforte. The tunes he lures from the keys are splendid, much richer in sound than any he has heard before. A good investment, Secondo decides.

“What a splendid instrument,” his brother says. “I shall hope that your little rabbit plays it for you on many an occasion.”

“I plan to have her play it for me every day for as long as I live.”

Terzo raises a brow. “So you do intend to propose? My, my! I did not expect you to ever let go of your determination to stay alone for the rest of your days. What has changed?”

“I met the loveliest creature to walk this earthly plane, fratello, I have been touched by her angelic hands and saw the true meaning of paradise. I do not care much what polite society has to say about our union. I am quite ready to be selfish after I sacrificed my freedom for this family.”

“And politics, your favourite subject?”

“I do not plan to advertise this marriage, fratello. I shall be ready to face all the consequences, for her love will carry me through the worst of it.”

“Oh, how you have changed!” Terzo snickers but not unkindly. “I am very happy for you, brother mine. She will make a lovely wife for an old grump such as yourself.”

“You are just as old,” Secondo says dismissively. “And yet you act like a bachelor in the prime of his youth.”

“And I shall continue to do so for as long as I can. If you will excuse me now, I have a rendezvous to attend and I am already late.”

The moment Terzo departs, Secondo allows his own hands to explore the pianoforte. He is quite out of practice but the finely tuned instruments sounds wonderful even under his stiff fingers. An old song finds its way into his head and he allows his memory to do the rest of the work.

When he finally finishes, he is pulled from his trance by the loveliest of voices.

“My lord, you asked for me,” she says timidly as she approaches him. “I do not wish to interrupt when you play such lovely songs.”

“You are not interrupting, my dove. Please, come here, sit down in my stead. This is yours now.”

“Oh, but my lord–” She trails off, her pupils widening at the sight of the brand new instrument.

He is not certain what he did to upset her. “If you would rather play a harp or a lyre–”

“No, no, that is not what I mean, my lord. I just… I am not worthy of such an expensive gift.”

“Oh, but my dove, you are more than worthy. And it is not entirely selfless. I hope I will be hearing your sweet music more often while I am working in here.”

She smiles affectionately. “I shall play for his lordship whenever he wishes. I shall… I shall play until my fingers hurt!”

“I would never allow for this to happen,” he decides, reaching for her hands and massaging them gently in his. “No pain may befall my dearest for as long as I am here to prevent it.”

She holds his gaze, hope shimmering in her irises. “I shall play with caution then, I would not want my lord to be in distress on my behalf. Would you hold Snowbell for me, please?” 

Before she sits, she pulls the rabbit from the pocket of her dress where the she must have napped for she perks up sleepily when she is set down in his broad hands. Secondo does not make a move to stand.

“My lord–”

He uses his free hand to pull her into his lap and she gasps before her fingers find the keys. He can feel her shivering against his chest, her breathing as rapid as his heartbeat.

“I am not sure that I can play under his lordship’s scrutiny,” she whispers.

“I am quite certain that you can.”

With another shaky breath she begins to play. Heavenly tunes fill the room, her hands working their magic on the keys of the fine instrument. It is a song he has not heard before, slow and rather quiet but all the more powerful on his emotions. Her confidence soon returns and she plays in the same carefree way that he has grown to enjoy, only this time she is in his space, where she belongs. She is in his arms, breathes the very same air that flows through his lungs, and he can sense that he made the right choice.

The moment her hands come to a stop, he places Snowbell back in her palms and turns her sideways over his lap. Flustered by the proximity she glances down to her hands, only to notice that the rabbit has a white ribbon loosely tied around her body.

“I will ask your father for your hand,” Secondo says bluntly and her eyes widen.

“My lord, that is… it is impossible.”

“It will be possible, if it is your wish as well.”

“But, I am just–”

He stops her, taking her chin between his fingers to force her eyes to meet his. “My dove, I need a clear answer.”

“Yes.”

Overcome with relief he closes the distance and devours her lips in a passionate kiss. She presses against him with the same fervour, though careful not to squash the rabbit in her hand. Her body feels heated underneath the thin fabric of her cheap dress and he vows to have the modiste come the very next day to take her measurements. His hands roam her curves without shame now while he ravishes her, kissing her with a passion that threatens to make his heart burst, unused as it is to such feral emotion. She tugs at his cravat then, and he relents, allowing them both to break away for air.

Her forehead falls against his, their noses brushing as their heavy breaths mingle in the space in between. Suddenly Snowbell squeals in her palm and when they both look down the rabbit leaps from her hand onto the keyboard. As the off-key notes penetrate the room, they both smile. Perhaps they have to hire a different musician for the wedding after all.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

[guess-my-next-obsession]

The Ranch

pairing: no outbreak au!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: E (18+ only, one brief mention of shower sex, outdoor sex, fingering, slight dirty talk, soft sex, riding, unprotected piv, creampie city limits, your kid sorta catches you but not rly at all and also they’re too young to know anything so we’re all gucci)

wc: 1.3k

a/n: been going through it and needed something soft and familiar to ease my way back into writing. hope you enjoy!

series masterlist | joel masterlist

It was an easy morning on the ranch, the storm clouds that passed over last night, shaking the newly built frame so hard it woke the kids up and had them crawling into your bed. Summer had just begun, bringing life to the scene around him; the birds chirped their morning song, the crickets talked back and forth, the bees buzzed over by the wildflowers.

You had just woken up, your six and two year old children tucked into the middle of the bed still asleep. Slow and carefully, you climbed out from beneath the duvet and stretched your arms out with a yawn. Scratching your head, you walked over to the bathroom to relieve yourself and freshen up before setting out to find your husband.

Joel sat strumming his guitar lazily on the porch swing overlooking the garden when you found him, the sight causing your heart to flutter. The golden, early morning light made him glow like something holy, though the ache in your thighs from the night before—his hips snapping into yours in the shower right before bed—reminded you he was anything but.

“Hey, handsome,” you called softly, not wanting to disturb his peace too much as you walked across the wooden planks of the wrap-around porch he built with his hands. Joel turned his head in your direction and smiled, his eyes soft with adoration as he took in your natural state, your nightgown still on.

“I’m the luckiest man on the face of this earth,” he drawled, now beaming up at you as you stood in front of him, carefully lifting the guitar out of his lap so you could straddle his thighs. Joel’s hands helped slide the hem of your dress up as you got comfortable, crossing your arms behind his neck and leaning in to press a kiss to his bearded cheek.

“Good morning,” you said, pulling back to give him a soft smile.

“Good mornin’ indeed,” he returned, his hands sliding up and down your thighs, squeezing when he reached the top of them. You bit your lip and gave him a cheeky smile as you leaned forward, your lips pressed into soft and slow against his until you got into a rhythm with it. Your hips began to rock just as slow against him, forcing his hands up beneath your dress to palm the globes of your ass with a tight squeeze. “Kids asleep?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, eyes already fluttering shut from the way your clit was grinding against the length of his slowly hardening cock beneath his pajama pants. “Want you, baby.”

“Yeah?” he asked, almost teasing, almost desperate. You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again. “Take me out, baby.”

You wasted no time in scooting back so that you could pull him out through the opening in the front of his pajamas, his cock jumping at the feeling of your fist wrapped around it. Joel groaned, lifting two of his fingers to his tongue to wet them before lowering it to your clit, rubbing circles into it until you were moaning for him too.

“God, I love you,” he said, shaking his head as he watched you roll your hips to take his fingers deeper while you continued working his cock until a bead of precum dribbled from the tip. “Sit on it, baby. Let me feel it.”

You nodded, just as eager to feel him stretch you open, and shuffled forward, lifting your hips up before slowly sinking down on. Joel shivered at the tight, wet squeeze of your walls, his hands gripping the fabric of your nightgown as it bunched up at your hips, guiding you into a slow rock against him.

“Fuck,” you sighed, letting your eyes close as you found the perfect rhythm to scratch the itch deep inside. Your arms hugged the width of his broad shoulders, holding him close as you moved against him, his feet planted firmly on the ground forcing the swing to remain still. “You were so good with the kids last night,” you breathed into his ear. “Love watching you be a dad.”

“Love watchin’ you be a mom,” he replied, husky and low, his face buried in your neck. “Goddamn, baby. So fuckin’ tight.”

“Even after having your ten pound son,” you said, making him chuckle before cutting him off with a tug to his hair, his laughter turning into a moan as you pulled his head back to draw his eyes to yours. “Love you so much.”

Joel’s brows furrowed with a mixture of pleasure and deep affection, his bowed lips parting in a soft “o” as you moved to plant your feet against the soft cushion of the swing instead of your knees.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head falling back against the back of the swing. “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Touch me,” you begged, breathy and focused on your pleasure. Joel obliged eagerly, licking the pad of his thumb before lowering it to your clit and rubbing pressured circles into it that had you leaking around him. “Fuck,” you whined, feeling the burn in your thighs fade away as your climax dawned. “Joel—“

“Come on,” he urged, using his free hand to pinch your nipple from over the thin cotton of your nightgown. “Let me have it, baby.”

“W-with me,” you managed, bouncing so hard on his cock you worried the swing might break. “Cum with me.”

Joel nodded, his neck and cheeks turning red as he reached his breaking point at the same time as you. Your walls squeezed him as you came, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as you felt him twitch inside of you, his moans and wrecked expression drawing out your high longer than you were used to.

“God,” you sighed, laughing at the fast pace of your heart as you lowered yourself onto your thighs to give your leg a break. Joel’s heart was pounding just as hard as he pulled you in, letting your face rest in the crook of his neck as he held you close, his hands stroking up and down your spine.

“What did I do to deserve all that?” he asked after a few beats of peaceful silence.

“I told you,” you said, lifting your head to smile at him. “You stayed up with the kids until they weren’t scared anymore.”

“While you got your beauty rest,” he teased, smirking at you.

“Exactly,” you smiled back, reaching a hand up to lightly scratch at his bearded jawline.

“Well, it’s payin’ off,” he said, lifting his eyes up to watch as his fingertips traced the side of your face, the sun casting a soft halo around you as you sat on his lap. “Takin’ my damn breath away lookin’ like this.”

“You should see yourself,” you said.

“Mama?” The sound of your six year old pulled both of your eyes away from each other to look at her as she stood down the porch, her teddy bear tucked under her arm. “I’m hungry.”

“Okay, baby,” you replied, now extra aware of the fact that Joel was still inside you. “Go inside, we’ll be in there in a second.”

“Okay,” she said, turning to stumble back into the house. Once she was gone, you and Joel shared a chuckle before you lifted yourself off of him slowly, the two of you hissing at the loss of contact.

“Duty calls,” you said, straightening out your nightgown before holding your hand out for him. “Come on, superdad.”

“Superdad, huh?” he grinned, tucking himself back into his pajama pants before standing, his right hand holding yours as his left carried his guitar. “I like the sound of that.”

“Oh, I bet you do.”

[mysticgalsworld]

swept away

a/n: hey babes !! as it’s my first fic EVER, i would love to hear what you guys think :) if you think more can be added, i am open to making this a multiple part fic !! *please remember that i don’t accept hate and you will be blocked— positivity only on this blog 💕*

pairing: hugh jackman x cleaning lady f! reader

summary: after getting a job at a cleaning company as a maid, you’re surprised to find out that the house you’re cleaning for belongs to the Hugh Jackman..

content warnings: fluff, angst, f! reader, talk of chemicals, accusations, power imbalance (but isn’t really recognized), not spellchecked

The house is big. With open arches and an unwavering space, it seems clean. The white arches open up to the wide kitchen, lightened by the streams of sunlight.

The kitchen is filled with windows opening up to show the beautiful nature from the outside. Putting your worn-out wired earbuds into your ears, you blast Fiona Apple in the process.

Placing your worn out cleaning supplies next to the wide island in the middle of the open kitchen, you start over at the sink. A beautiful stainless steel sink with a window above it overlooking the small garden entrances you.

Leaning over the sink, you adjust your work shirt, making sure to pull it over the exposed skin of your lower stomach before scrubbing the dirty dishes.

Scrubbing each dish becomes a great routine and an excuse to dive deeper into your thoughts. This has been your routine since the person, who may or may not be famous, hired your cleaning company. Your cleaning company sent you here, giving you a temporary key and ordering you to “be silent, thorough, and unnoticeable.”

Sometimes you wondered who lived in this house. It sure was nice, but not a huge mansion like you assumed big-time celebrities would live in. Maybe it’s a woman with a really great job? Or a famous actor? Screenwriter? Producer? Maybe even a director? But you stop yourself, reprimanding yourself.

Unnoticeable. That’s what you were supposed to be. You were here to do a job, not think about the personal lives of the people that live here. They probably didn’t even care. If they could think of you as a nonliving entity who’s only purpose in life is to clean their house, why give them space in your mind to occupy.

Sighing, you try to focus on the dishes. But your mind keeps going back to who may live here. You try to not look at the pictures on the walls, personal knickknacks, or anything that gives you an idea of who he is because it’s easier. It’s easier to work in the dark. To be an entity that isn’t cared about, who doesn’t care.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you hum along softly to Fiona Apple’s “On the Bound” playing in your ears as you scrub a dirty dish. The music seems to cut instantly and you look down at your old phone in confusion.

Seeing that the old wire of the headphones is almost completely worn in half, you dry your hands on a rag from your cleaning supplies and unplug it. The music starts to play softly in the background as you go back to your scrubbing.

Your hips start to move slowly, moving to the grungy, moody sound of Fiona Apple as you focus completely on the task at hand. However, you don’t hear the soft rumble of footsteps behind you moving towards the fridge. You continue to scrub the dirty dishes, moving your hips slightly to the beat and humming under your breath.

Having finished his morning gym routine, Hugh goes to the kitchen to grab a protein shake from the fridge. Focused on the goal at hand, he almost doesn’t notice the young woman cleaning his dishes at the sink.

He notices the petite cleaning lady humming to herself as she completes her job, oblivious to his presence. He stands with the fridge half-open, a few feet away from her, enjoying the view of the young woman moving with her task, the sunlight streaming through the window dancing on her bare skin.

Hugh doesn’t really know the exact song playing, but the grungy beat plays softly as the water runs in the sink. He can’t help but appreciate the woman’s dedication to the job, and wants to say something. Or introduce himself.

He clears his throat softly to get your attention. You don’t hear it, too focused on your task and the beat of the music. Keeping your head down, you occasionally look up at the window in front of the sink. Your hips continue to sway softly to the rock beat.

Hugh tries clearing his throat again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, finding your obliviousness a little endearing.

He takes a sip of his shake as she doesn’t respond and finally speaks. “You really enjoying that dishwashing, huh?” he asks, his voice deep with professional kindness and laced with amusement.

At the deep voice behind you, your hips still from their slight movement. Wiping your soapy hands on a small dish towel beside you, you turn towards him, Fiona Apple still playing in the background. Your eyes meet the person behind you, your brows furrowing in shock.

Hugh Jackman stands behind you in sweaty workout clothes, holding a protein shake. Hugh Jackman. THE Hugh Jackman. The same man who has famously been in the X-Men movies and your favorite musical The Greatest Showman.

Your brows furrow slightly in shock as your face flushes slightly. Your mouth curves into a tight, professional smile as you mask your complete shock.

“I mean, it at least makes my job more enjoyable.”

He hums in response and leans against the counter, a kind smile overtaking his face as he takes in the professional smile and quick recognition in your eyes.

“Fiona Apple, right?” he replies, the timbre of his strong Australian accent ringing in the open kitchen. “Seems like you were enjoying your job quite a bit.”

His eyes drift to the logo on your work shirt in recognition, watching as you fidget with the dish towel in your hands.

You nod awkwardly, not comfortable with being in front of a gorgeous man in your dirty work shirt, which is now covered with water. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Hugh notices the shift in your demeanor, a small smile playing on his lips as he eyes your water-soaked work shirt and casual hair.

“Just making sure you are from Pristine Cleaning Co. ,” he replies, his eyes drifting down to the faded logo over your heart. “You seemed very immersed in your music... and in your cleaning.”

I chuckle politely, moving to move my cleaning products away from where he is standing. I shake my head and smile, “Well, I can assure you they did send me. And they don’t really want me to be speaking to you.”

Hugh laughs heartily at her comment, finding her attempt at being professional quite endearing. He steps aside as she moves her cleaning products, continuing to watch her with a smile on his face.

“Oh, really?” he replies with a hint of amusement. “And why is that? I'm not allowed to speak to the cleaning lady, hm?”

Your hands pause on the company bucket of cleaning supplies. You know there is no reason for me to pause. You ARE the cleaning lady. But even so, his comment makes you think of your earlier thoughts. You are a cleaning lady, but you are also a person. Not just a person whose only duty is to clean someone’s house. Sometimes it feels that that’s all people think. That you aren’t a person.

You clear your throat before glancing back towards him. “We are told to be—uh ‘silent, thorough, and unnoticeable.’ They send me when you aren’t home so I’m not a bother.”

Hugh's expression softens as he notices the brief flicker of thought in your eyes. He can sense that his comment, meant as a playful tease, has touched a deeper nerve.

He leans casually against the counter again, folding his arms across his chest. “I'd hardly call you a bother,” he says, his voice a shade softer now. “But I understand the need for professionalism.”

His gaze flicks down to your company bucket of cleaning supplies, then back to her eyes. He crosses the island to stand in front of you. He pauses, sticking his hand out to shake your own. “Well, I’m Hugh, it’s nice to meet you...” he waits for your reply.

“Y/N.” your voice rings out softly, your hand jutting out slightly to meet his. His hand is warm and firm in yours, not even mentioning how it also seems to be twice its size.

He repeats your name softly, a professional, but charming smile gracing his face.

You blink up at him, almost starstruck at meeting one of the most nostalgic and famous actors from your childhood. “I—um I have to get started. It was nice to meet you Mr. Jackman, but for the future my company asks that you call them with dates that you have things to do so this mishap doesn’t happen again.”

Hugh watches as you introduce yourself, his grip firm yet gentle on your smaller hand. He can feel the softness and warmth of your skin, and the way his hand nearly envelops yours.

A slight shiver runs through him as he listens to your voice pronouncing his last name, your words laced with a mix of professionalism and charm.

Nodding in agreement, he releases your hand reluctantly. “Of course, Y/N.”

He takes a moment to step from her and grab his protein shake again, then adds with a small smile, “It was a pleasant 'mishap' though.”

You nod and softly before bending down to pick up your cleaning supplies. Grabbing a company business card, you walk over to Hugh.

“Well, here’s the company card for you to call. I’ll be upstairs and outta your way until you’re finished.” without waiting for a response, you give him a small smile before grabbing your supplies and moving towards the stairs.

Hugh's eyes follow you as you bend down to gather your supplies. He takes the card gingerly, running his thumb over the embossed logo on the front.

“Thanks,” he murmurs. “And Y/N?” You turn to look at him once more. He looks up, his eyes locking on yours. “You're not in my way. Actually, I appreciate the help.”

Biting back a small smile, you continue up the stairs.

The next time you’re at the open, white house it’s different. The house seems quiet at first and you start with your familiar routine. First the kitchen, then the upstairs, lastly working your way down.

Cleaning the kitchen goes smoothly, but the upstairs seems different. Warmer, more homely than usual, you’re not exactly sure.

His bedroom is big. Filled with open space, white arches, and lots of windows, the space is comforting and inviting. You work thoroughly, once again playing grunge rock from your worn out iPhone.

Starting to vacuum around the room, a brightly colored sticky note next to the light switch catches your attention. It standing out against the pristine white walls is what tempts you to take it. You pick it up, the message reading:

“I’m sorry if things seem a bit disorganized today. I’m prepping for an early morning meeting tomorrow, so the room’s not at its best. I appreciate you. -H”

At this little note, your heart warms. It’s not only written in his notorious chicken scratch, but little doodles are handdrawn around it, adding character. You reread the “I appreciate you” line over and over, a mix of appreciation and apprehension filling you.

The company has told you to by unnoticeable. To be silent. To be a ghost, but your fear for the consequences of not listening pushes you back to reality. Shaking your head, you place the sticky note back on the wall before continuing your job.

The next weeks are the same. Whether you’re cleaning the kitchen, the bathrooms, or even the living room.

Sweet sticky notes continue to pop up everywhere, a slew of messages ranging from “Thank you for working your magic” to “Love the new organized bookshelf! Any book recommendations?” to even “Thank you for treating my home with care.” And that’s not even including the array of hand drawn smiley faces, doodles, and drawings.

After you didn’t respond to the first one, you figured he would quit it. But secretly your heart would swell with every positive message, every indication that he understood that you weren’t just a body whose only duty is to clean people’s homes.

The thought that Hugh was thinking of you as an actual person with feelings and thoughts filled you with happiness. The consequences of talking to him still lingered over your head, but maybe it could be different.

Today’s note was next to the oven. When you came to the kitchen, you were surprised to see the oven dirtier than usual. You spot the colored paper taunting you from the corner of your eye and pick it up. It reads:

“Tried to bake yesterday. Never again. I’m so sorry for the mess. You’re the only one keeping me in check.”

Your cheeks flush with warmth as you think of him. Only having one conversation with this man, you wonder how you could possibly keep him in check.

This time, you decide. This time you will answer him. Grabbing a pen from your purse, which was sitting next to your cleaning supplies, you try to think of a message.

Your heart thumps in anticipation as you write underneath his chicken scrawl. “Don’t worry, baking is hard. You just have to have a good teacher.” The only thing you think of for the next few hours as you clean is the note.

You think of how he will respond, if he responds. Before you are able to doubt yourself, you raise the volume of the music on your phone and pour yourself into the job.

When you step into the house the next week, the energy is strange. The sun doesn’t seem to shine so brightly and the house doesn’t seem as open as it once did.

Walking inside, you can hear the shuffling of footsteps and the chatter of a voice in the kitchen. Deciding to obey your company’s instructions (and maybe having a little left over embarrassment from replying to the note) you make your way upstairs.

You clean the bathrooms first, scrubbing harshly as you scold yourself. He was being so nice and you weren’t even trying! You raise the volume for the music on your phone and take your frustrations out on the tile.

Moving to clean his bedroom, you keep your steps quiet and light. Even though you do want to have another conversation with him, you don’t want to disturb whatever he’s doing.

You close his door softly behind you as you start. You change the sheets first, then wipe down all the surfaces, and finally you vacuum the floor. You accidentally knock the vacuum on the bedside table, the knickknacks and papers falling softly around it.

Cursing to yourself, you pick up the dropped items. Your back is killing you and the only motivation right now is the chance of seeing him downstairs (and the money you earn from your job).

You finish up cleaning his room the grab your supplies and head to the stairs. As you walk down them, he walks up them. His broad shoulders almost take up the whole length as you both try to walk your separate ways.

Spotting the phone he has clutched to his ear, you only manage to give him a slight nod and shy “Hello” before you are at the bottom of the stairs. Placing your supplies in the living room, you stand and roll your shoulders.

You hear the bedroom door upstairs close somewhat harshly as you finish vacuuming the rug. You hear the clattering of things, the door opening, and a rush down the stairs as you continue to clean. He seems in a rush as he walks to the kitchen. He also spends less than a minute in the kitchen before rushing back upstairs.

Furrowing your brows, you think of what was wrong. But you quickly shake your head, trying not to get your mind involved in his personal life. Especially because he’s a celebrity. THE Hugh Jackman. He wouldn’t appreciate the cleaning lady being nosy.

You move to the kitchen after you finish the living room. The first thing that catches your eye is the hurriedly placed post-it note. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you pick it up. The note reads:

“Once you are finished in here, come upstairs. Please..”

A mixture of confusion and curiosity wash over you as you read the hastily written note, the words 'please' and 'come upstairs' echoing in your mind. You finish cleaning the kitchen, washing the dishes and cleaning the counters while you mind wonders about what could be waiting for you upstairs.

With a small sense of trepidation, you make your way upstairs, the stairs feeling extra creaky. The hallway feeling extra closed in. When you walk to his bedroom, his door is closed. Not knowing what to do, you knock softly and wait for a response.

He opens the door swiftly, his face relaxing when he sees you. He motions you inside and says, “Hey, come on in..”

Giving a small smile, you glance up to him with a question in your eyes. “Thank you….“ You stand there waiting for him to tell you something. Almost feeling like a kid getting called to the principal’s office, you stand there shifting your weight.

“Well—uh I didn’t want this to be awkward, but I’m missing my watch.. Have you seen it?” he continues neutrally.

Your brows furrow as you think back to cleaning this room. Did you see a watch? You don’t remember a watch.. Shaking your head, you look up to him wearily. “No Mr. Jackman, I haven’t seen your watch.”

He puts his hand up and shakes his head slightly. “Hugh, please.. But, are you sure you haven’t seen it? It’s a brown leather watch.” He continues to prod, the conversation getting more and more uncomfortable.

“No, I swear I haven’t seen it sir. Are you sure it was in this room?” You look around, praying that he maybe missed it and it was sitting on the dresser. It wasn’t.

He continues, “Yes, I’m sure. I take it off before all of my workouts because it’s important to me. It was on my dresser before you came to clean, and now it’s gone. Are you sure you haven’t moved it? Maybe you put it somewhere by mistake?”

Continuing to shake your head, you glance up at him. His face is flushed at the confrontation and his worry for the seems evident. You can’t believe this is happening. “No, I didn’t touch your watch sir. I leave your things where I find them, I would never do that.”

His frustration becomes increasingly evident at your comment. He places a hand on his face and shakes his head while thinking. “This watch is important to me. I’ve looked everywhere and it’s nowhere to be found. I don’t mean to accuse, but you were the only person who’s been in this room this morning.”

Your breath starts to quicken, the worst thing that could happen finally did. He was basically insinuating you’re a thief. “I didn’t steal it, I swear.” Tears well in your eyes, but you won’t let them fall. Especially not for a man.

He shakes his head and starts to pace, running a hand through his hair. He is clearly torn between anger and trying to remain fair. “I don’t want to accuse you, but what am I suppose to think? It’s gone and I can’t just ignore that.”

Instead of responding, you walk around the room looking for it. You pull back the bedcovers, open drawers, and look on the floor as he watches you. After a moment he joins you, and you search and search and search for the missing watch.

What seems like an eternity later, you check underneath the bedside table. Nudged between the wall and the table is where the watch sits. With a huff, you stand up and face him. He looks at you, his face filled with relief and regret. He goes to speak, but your firm voice cuts him off.

“Here. You can contact the company directly for them to send over another girl.” You hand him the watch before grabbing your things and leaving.

Once you are out of the house, the tears finally fall. Slowly and barely, you let them leave as you drive back to your company’s building. After all the kindness he gave you, after all the sweet notes and hints at something more friendly. He was just like the rest of them. He was just like the people who don’t view you as human. He was another that just thought of you as the cleaning lady…

a/n: please let me know what you think !! i’m open to doing a pt 2 but please lmk if YOU guys want that… but thanks a lot for the support 😋