coup d'etat

“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—

“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”

“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.

Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant. 

What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.

But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore. 

You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.

Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.

He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it. 

“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”

Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.

The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now. 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish. 

“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little. 

“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.

You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.

Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.

“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest. 

“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.

“Please…”

“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do. 

You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?

With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”

“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.

“If you’re grossed out—“

“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”

That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”

“The millisecond.”

His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”

“I’ll put a poet to shame.”

“Pull my hair?”

“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”

A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”

Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.

It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.

The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens. 

But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?

You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours. 

You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again. 

“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.

“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.

He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.

Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it? 

His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.

Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”

“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”

You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.

It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.

Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.

Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!

You love these fucking supermoons.

“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”

“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“

“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”

He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”

“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.

“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.

You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”

Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”

“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.” 

You whimper and squirm against the sheets, teasing your entrance before shoving it back inside, pumping your wrist and hoping it eases the ache that Caleb's cock left you craving.

Then the door creaks open, and you freeze, the toy still buried deep inside you. Mortification covers your body faster then the sheets could.

Caleb stands in the doorway, still in uniform. He doesn't look angry, but there's a possessive glint in his eyes that tell you exactly how he feels about seeing something else inside you.

"What's this?"

"Caleb!" you choke, face flushing red. "Oh my god… I thought you—you were still on the trip!"

He doesn't move at first. He just lets the strap of his travel bag slide from his shoulder and hit the ground with a heavy thud. With his gaze fixed on you, he finally takes a step closer to the bed.

"I finished early. Thought I'd surprise you." He unzips his jacket slowly. "Seems I'm the one who's surprised."

You remain frozen, eyes tracking every movement he makes until he tosses the jacket onto a chair, and steps toward the edge of the bed. His voice drops to a husky whisper.

"Did you miss me that much, baby? Had to find a replacement?"

"I'm so sorry," you stammer. "I was just… craving something inside me, you know? It's been so long and…"

You cut off your rambling as he climbs onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels before you, one hand braced near your hip. The other hand reaches for the sheet you're clutching.

"Sorry?" Caleb's fingers curl into the fabric, holding it taut. "Don't be sorry for wanting that pretty pussy to be filled.” He smirks, but it’s tight. “But you should be sorry for using a piece of plastic for that. You have me."

You whimper, pressing your legs together as though somehow you could hide the toy.

"But… you weren't here. I had to do something."

Caleb tsks softly.

"That's not an excuse. You should've waited for me."

Before you can react, he yanks the sheet away, exposing you completely. Cool air rushes across your skin, and despite your best efforts, the toy is only hidden by the way it's nestled inside you. Caleb's eyes lock onto it, and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

Instinctively, you reach down, only for Caleb to swat your hand away. His own fingers wrap around the base of the dildo as he slowly pulls it from you. The slick, pink silicone glistens in the dim light.

A shaky breath leaves you as he holds it up—to your further embarrassment—examining it with a dark, unreadable expression.

"You went out and bought this?" His voice is a low, disapproving rumble. "Got yourself all worked up for a fake dick?"

You don't reply, too ashamed to meet his gaze as it flicks down to the mess between your thighs.

"It got you nice and wet, didn't it?"

He taps the toy on your clit, making you jolt.

"I'm talking to you."

"I was thinking of you!" you protest, squirming as he rubs the tip through your swollen folds. "I swear, Caleb. I want you—want you so much more."

Caleb doesn't look convinced, especially not when he pushes the toy back inside you and watches your pussy flutter around the length.

"Oh yeah?" he growls, drawing it out before pushing it back in again. "Then why are you making those sweet noises for it, huh?"

You writhe against the sheets, pleasure curling through your body. It's not just the toy—it's Caleb. The way he's looking at you. The way he's talking to you. The way each thrust forces you to feel every inch of a dick that isn't his.

A moan slips from your lips. You can’t help it. You’ve missed him… any attention from him.

Caleb presses a firm hand against your thigh, ensuring your legs stay draped wide and trembling as he increases the pace.

"Fuck," he groans. "Look at you."

He shoves the dildo deep.

"Is it better than me? Is that why you bought it?"

You shake your head immediately, trying to catch your breath.

"Oh fuck… it's not b-better… it's not—"

"Then why are you soaking wet for it?" His stare doesn't leave your face. "Why are you moaning like a slut for it?"

The question leaves you with no answer beyond another helpless sound. Your lips part, but nothing coherent comes out.

Caleb's jaw tightens as he drives the toy in once more, deep and hard before suddenly ripping it out of you. The sudden emptiness is cruel and leaves you cold, your pussy throbbing around nothing.

Caleb scoffs at your needy whine and tosses the toy across the room where it lands with a dull thud. Your pulse pounds in your ears as he crowds into your space, leaving no room for anything except him.

His hands are quick as they work his belt open, shoving down his pants and boxers until his cock is free.

You barely have a moment to admire the length you've missed so much before he’s tugging you towards him, and folding you in half. Your legs dangle from his shoulder as he positions himself between your thighs.

The tip of his cock brushes your entrance, a gentle warning that contradicts the harsh way he slams inside you. Your eyes squeeze shut from the stretch, your mouth parting in a gasp of pleasure.

His mouth crashes onto yours, swallowing the rest of your moan in a messy kiss as he begins to give you rough thrusts. His thick tip bullies your cervix, making up for everyday he's been gone.

He's so much bigger than the toy.

Warmer and real. It's making you fall apart.

"Oh s-shit…. oh Caleb… Caleb—!"

Your words dissolve into broken sounds, giving you no chance to recover between each pump of his hips. The room is getting stuffy, his balls smacking your ass with enough force to erase the memory of that silicone he'd found buried inside you.

When he finally pulls back to look at you, his eyes are dark and possessive. Sweat drips from his temple as his hands snake beneath your thighs, pushing them towards your chest as he fucks you harder.

"Missed you so much…"

Thrust.

"And this is what I come home to?"

Thrust.

The headboard knocks softly against the wall.

"Tell me I'm better."

Thrust.

"Now."

You gasp, fingers clawing at his biceps. The muscles in your thighs twitch and burn from the position.

"You're s'much better, 'Leb… mmmghhh—!"

"That's fucking right."

One hand leaves your thigh to grab your cheeks, forcing your glazed eyes back onto him. Your face is squished and hot beneath his palm.

"I catch you using it again," shivers run down your spine at his tone, "and it's going down your throat, understood?"

2026 © thewrldx

Arthur’s apartment was as chaotic as ever, half-packed bags and discarded jackets strewn across the floor. You threw yourself onto the couch with a dramatic groan, your face buried in a pillow.

“I regret this already,” you whined, the words muffled against the soft fabric.

Arthur’s laugh carried from the doorway. “You’ve been here two minutes, and you’re already complaining? Impressive.”

Rolling onto your back, you shot him a glare. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. A whole month of dealing with your insufferable brother? I must’ve been out of my mind.”

Arthur leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and grinning like the Cheshire cat. “You’ll survive. There are enough people going to keep you distracted. Plus, you get to spend a whole month with me. What more could you possibly want?”

“Maybe a holiday without Charles,” you shot back, only half-joking.

Arthur smirked. “Come on, he’s not that bad. Okay, maybe he’s a bit… a lot.”

"Arthur... I can't think of one thing that's not annoying about your brother" You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to dig his own grave further.

The Monegasque chuckled and rolled his eyes "Nuh uh! I do remember very vividly how you were gushing about, and I quote 'astonishingly hot' my brother looked in that suit during christmas"

You huffed and coughed, throwing the pillow that was under your head towards Arthur "First of all that was 2 years ago" you said, rolling onto your back, staring up at the ceiling “Besides, the only thing worse than Charles, is Charles knowing he’s handsome. He’s insufferable, and he’s fully aware of it. That smirk of his? Pure evil.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah, he definitely knows. But let’s be honest, you’re not wrong. The guy could probably charm his way out of murder if he tried.”

You groaned again, flopping back onto the couch. “Can't I just stay here, and watch the house? Doesn't your fake plant need a plant sitter, to fake water it?" you joked.

Arthur plopped down beside you, his grin softening slightly. “You’ll be fine. I’ll protect you. I’ll even create a no-Charles zone if it helps.”

You laughed despite yourself, shoving his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot you’re lucky to have,” he replied with a wink.

You smiled at him, rolling your eyes once again. He was true, you were lucky to have him, but you also weren't so lucky with who his brother was.

“But you have to admit,” Arthur continued, “you kind of love how much he gets under your skin. You wouldn’t have this much energy to complain if you didn’t care.”

Your gaze softened as you looked at him, and for a moment, your mind wandered back to where it all started. You and Arthur had been inseparable since you were kids.

The first time you met Arthur, you were eight years old, tagging along with Pierre to one of his karting races. Arthur, ten at the time, had been sitting on a crate, furiously tinkering with his kart while Charles shouted something from across the paddock. He looked up as you approached, his face smeared with grease, and grinned like he’d known you forever.

“Hi! I’m Arthur!” he announced, shoving his hand out for you to shake.

From that moment on, you were glued to his side. Arthur became your partner in crime, the one you told all your secrets to, and the brother you never asked for but somehow desperately needed.

Of course, being best friends with Arthur meant spending time around Charles, too.

You were fifteen when it happened—when you realized you had a crush on the unattainable Charles Leclerc. He was nineteen then, fully immersed in his F1 career and everything that came with it. He had this effortless charm, a confidence that made it impossible to look away.

You knew it was silly, that he’d never see you as anything more than Arthur’s kid best friend. But the crush lingered, stubborn and unrelenting.

By the time you were sixteen, you and Charles had started spending more time together, moments where the age gap didn’t feel so insurmountable. He’d joke with you, tease you about your karting attempts, and you couldn’t help but think… maybe. Maybe if you were older, it could be something.

“Maybe if you were older,” he’d said once, his voice light but his words heavy. “But you’re Pierre’s little sister, and Arthur would kill me. Besides, you’re like family.”

The words stung, but deep down, you understood. And then there was that night when you were eighteen—too many drinks, a shared laugh, and the moment you almost kissed. But it was over before it began, cut short by the sound of someone calling Charles’ name.

You never talked about it, burying the memory alongside the growing ache in your chest.

When you were eighteen, you finally let it go. You and Charles were just friends, so it seemed. You started dating other guys, convinced that the feelings you had for Charles were a thing of the past, which they seemed to be. But that was when Charles started to change.

He became distant, colder. His teasing shifted into something sharper, tinged with something you couldn’t quite understand. You started arguing more, getting annoyed by the weirdest little things. The playful insults and your arguments became the foundation of your relationship—barbed words masking unresolved tension.

Now, years later, it was all just… frustrating. You didn’t understand him, and you didn’t want to. Yet you both couldn't seem to let it each other be. Even though you were now respectively 21 and 26, you both had this childish need to keep pushing each others buttons.

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts. Arthur jumped up, grinning. “Showtime. Come on, let’s get this circus started.”

You followed him to the door, your heart sinking as soon as it swung open. There he was—Charles Leclerc, the devil himself, smirk firmly in place. Beside him stood Pierre and Kika, both smiling warmly.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath. “Let the torture begin.”

Pierre and Kika made their way in, following Arthur to the living room, leaving you standing there alone with Charles.

Charles’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk widening. “Miss me already?”

You rolled your eyes at the Monegasque driver, scoffing "I’d miss you more if you came with a mute button."

Before Charles had the chance to reply to your comment, Dennis Hauger appeared behind Charles, greeting both of you with a smirk. Saved by the bell

"HAUG!" you exclaimed happily, making your way over to him, embracing him.

Dennis returned the hug immediately, settling his arms around your waist "Hi there, frenchie" he chuckled back at you, using of his standard nickname for you.

You tucked your head in the crook of his neck "You just saved me from the devil, thanks" you whispered jokingly to him, low enough for Charles to not hear.

What you didn't notice tho, was the way Charles clenched his jaw at the sight in front of him, or the way he immediately made his way out of the hallway, trying to get away from the interaction in front of him. It was jealousy, pure jealousy. Something he was trying to deny with all his willpower.

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

The house had been buzzing with activity for the past hour as everyone settled into their rooms. Most of the group had scrambled to claim their ideal space as soon as they walked in, leaving you and Kika to handle the grocery run. You didn’t mind—there wasn’t a room you particularly wanted, and you figured Arthur would sort it out for you while you were gone.

When you returned and put everything away, you made your way to the living room, where Arthur was lounging on the couch next to Dennis. You perched on the armrest beside him, your hands on your hips.

Arthur didn’t even look at you before sighing dramatically. “I’m sorry in advance,” he muttered, sounding uncharacteristically guilty.

You raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t even said anything yet, and you’re already apologizing. That’s reassuring.”

Arthur finally glanced up, a smirk creeping onto his face. “You weren’t going to ask me about your room for the month?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, catching the teasing tone in his voice. “Okay, and if I was? I already told you I don’t care which room I get. I’m not picky.”

Dennis snorted from his seat. “Oh, you’ll care soon enough.”

Confused, you glanced between them, their smirks only growing. “What are you two on about? Just tell me where the room is, and I’ll figure it out myself.”

Arthur shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Upstairs. There are two bedrooms on that floor. Yours is the one on the right.”

“Thanks,” you said, pushing off the armrest. “Honestly, boys, it can’t be that bad.”

As you walked away, you heard Arthur mutter behind you, “Sweet, innocent girl.”

The comment made you roll your eyes, but you brushed it off. Surely they were just being dramatic. When you reached the room, you stepped inside and surveyed the space. It was far from bad—it was actually quite nice. The room was spacious, with large windows that let in plenty of light. You noticed a set of balcony doors and walked over to them, opening them to find a stunning view of the beach. The balcony extended to the next room, but that wasn’t anything that bothered you.

Everything about the room seemed perfect. What were they even talking about?

Feeling satisfied, you turned your attention to the rest of the space, spotting a door near the wardrobe. It must lead to the bathroom. Curious, you opened it, stepping inside—and froze in your tracks.

There, in the middle of the bathroom, stood Charles, unpacking his toiletries into the cabinet. His back was to you, but the sight of him was enough to make your stomach drop. You quickly scanned the room and spotted another door on the opposite wall, clearly leading to his bedroom.

Oh. That’s what they meant.

“No way. This is not happening,” you huffed, throwing your hands in the air.

Charles turned at the sound of your voice, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation. “What are you doing here?” he snapped.

"About to murder either you, or the idiot that came up with the clever idea to put me in a room next to most insufferable person on mother earth" you snapped back at him.

Charles felt slightly hurt at your insult, he knew he caused this himself, but he figured that trying to get over you was easier when you hated him than when you were your way too sweet self.

Charles rolled his eyes, going back to his unpacking. "Might as well consider killing Joris then, because up until you came barging in, I thought he would be staying in that room" he said, rolling his eyes, mindlessly continuing to unpack his stuff

You crossed your arms, glaring at his nonchalant attitude. “Well, congratulations on your little upgrade. This arrangement is absolutely not happening. I’m switching rooms.”

“Good luck with that,” Charles muttered. “But if you’re planning to kill Joris, I’d like to watch.”

You ignored his sarcasm, muttering curses under your breath as you stormed out of the bathroom and downstairs into the kitchen. Your frustration was boiling over as you barged in, startling the group gathered around the table. Pierre, Kika, Arthur, Dennis, and Joris all looked up at you in varying states of confusion.

“Joris,” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “I will kill you.”

Joris blinked, holding his hands up in defense. “What did I do?”

“Apparently you figured it was a good idea to take the last decent room, and left me with the one upstairs,” you hissed. “Which, by the way, shares a bathroom with Charles.”

Arthur burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “You just figured that out? Oh, this is gold.”

Joris’ confused expression turned sheepish. “Okay, wait. I didn’t know that if I didn’t take the upstairs room, you’d end up with it. I thought the downstairs one was just the last one left.”

“And you didn’t think about who would be upstairs with Charles?” you snapped, your tone laced with sarcasm.

Joris shrugged, an amused grin tugging at his lips. “I mean... I thought you’d appreciate the proximity to him.”

You groaned, turning to Pierre, who was clearly trying to stifle his laughter. “Pierre, switch rooms with me. Please.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening. Kika and I have a nice setup downstairs, and I’m not about to share a bathroom with anyone. We need our privacy.”

“I need privacy too!” you argued, your voice rising in frustration.

“It’s different,” Pierre said, shooting you a pointed look. “Couples need privacy for... other things.”

“Ew. Stop. I don’t want to know,” you groaned, covering your ears dramatically.

You spun around to Arthur, narrowing your eyes. “You. Switch with me.”

Arthur raised his hands, laughing. “No can do. Charles would murder me. I snore too loud, and he’s all about his beauty sleep. He’d kick me out within a day.”

Your gaze shifted to Dennis, who immediately held up his hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve got the best room in the house—big bed, balcony, bubble bath. I’m not giving that up.”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. “You’re all useless.”

He leaned back smugly, grinning as if he’d just won the lottery. Then, as if to soften the blow, he added, “Well, I would’ve offered to let you stay in my room with me, but I think that would be the cause of my death.” His eyes flicked pointedly to your brother.

“Fair point,” Pierre said flatly, without missing a beat.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “No, that’s off-limits. But sharing a bathroom—with connecting doors—with the one guy you’ve always said was ‘off-limits’ is somehow not an issue? You’re a hypocritical ass.”

Pierre shrugged, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “First of all, sleeping in someone’s bed is completely different than sharing a bathroom,” he countered, folding his arms.

“And second,” he added with a knowing look, “the only reason I ever said that was because you had a little teenage crush on my best friend. And let’s be honest, at the time, he was way too old for you. But...” He trailed off, chuckling to himself. “I guess sticking to that would make me a bit of a hypocrite, considering I’m dating one of your friends now, and our age gap is even bigger.”

You groaned loudly, knowing you couldn’t win this side of the argument. “Whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “That doesn’t change the fact that you know he’s the one person I want to avoid the most. You know I hate him,” you complained. “I can’t even stand the idea of his existence, let alone sharing a goddamn bathroom with him.”

“Relax,” Pierre said with a smirk. “It’s just a bathroom. There’s a lock on the door. You’ll survive.”

“Exactly,” came Charles’ voice from behind you. You spun around to find him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and an infuriatingly smug look on his face. “It’s not like sharing a bathroom means we’re obligated to shower together.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you snapped. “It might be worth it just to drown you.”

The group erupted in laughter, and Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child. Just knock before you go in. Problem solved.”

You glared at him, furious “Why are you even meddling, you weren't even part of this conversation, are you just lurking around waiting to butt in on conversations?” you snapped.

Charles smirked, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Not my fault you’re loud enough to hear from every other room,” he replied, his tone light but with an edge of sarcasm.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides as you shot him a glare. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are,” he quipped, unfazed by your fury.

You sighed loudly "See, this is what I mean, this is what y'all are burdening me with" you complained, glaring at him once more, your frustration bubbling over. “You’re the last person I’d ever want to share a bathroom with.”

Charles smirked, stepping further into the kitchen, inching closer to you, until he was close enough to whisper in your ear. “Good thing it’s not up to you, then.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides as you shot him a glare, your voice sharp and dripping with annoyance. “Fuck you, Charles.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider as he tilted his head slightly, feigning innocence. “Tempting,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “but I don’t think you could handle it.”

Pierre clapped his hands together, interrupting the argument. “Alright, enough. Give it a try for a few days. If it’s really that bad, we’ll figure something out. But I doubt it’ll be the end of the world.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Fine. But if I end up committing a murder, just know it’s on all of you.”

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After the heated argument downstairs, you stormed up the stairs to your designated bedroom, Arthur trailing behind you with his ever-present smug smirk. His long strides brought him into the room before you could even process your frustration fully. He flopped unceremoniously onto your bed, bouncing slightly as he sprawled out, his arms behind his head like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Meanwhile, you busied yourself with unpacking your suitcase, each item you placed in the wardrobe an outlet for your simmering annoyance. The rhythmic sound of hangers sliding against the bar was oddly soothing—until you caught Arthur watching you with that infuriating grin plastered across his face.

"What?" you snapped, not even turning to face him.

Arthur’s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, nothing. Just waiting for you to protest again"

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Before you could even begin to voice your frustration, Arthur sat up, one hand raised in mock surrender. "Nope! Let me stop you right there. This wasn’t just on me.”

Without thinking, you grabbed a pair of joggers from your suitcase and lobbed them at him. The fabric smacked him square in the face with a satisfying thwack.

“Merde!” he exclaimed, his laughter spilling out as he dramatically tossed the joggers aside. “Violence is not the answer, you know.”

“Neither is being useless,” you shot back, crossing your arms. "Arthur, you could have at least tried something! Anything would have been better than this.”

He leaned back against the headboard, folding his arms as if settling in for a long discussion. “Trust me, I did. But there wasn’t much to work with. Your brother doesn’t want to switch because—well, come on, you know why. He’s here with his girlfriend, and honestly, he made a fair point.”

You made a disgusted face, wrinkling your nose. “Fair point or not, it still sucks for me.”

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly. “And then there’s Joris. He’s obviously got a thing for Gigi, and guess what? Gigi sleeps downstairs. Perfect excuse for him to ‘accidentally’ run into her more often.”

“Gross,” you muttered, shoving another shirt into the wardrobe.

Arthur grinned, clearly enjoying your irritation. “And let’s be real: Inès and Gigi met Charles today. Can you imagine how awkward it’d be for either of them to share a bathroom with him? What if they walk in each other accidentally. That’s like… social torture. At least you’ve known him for years.”

You spun around, throwing your hands in the air. “I’M UNCOMFORTABLE TOO, ARTHUR!”

“Yeah, but that’s just you two being… you two,” he quipped, gesturing vaguely between you. “It’s a highly unlogical—”

“Illogical,” you corrected sharply.

“Whatever.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an illogical issue between the two of you. At least you know him well enough to, I don’t know, coexist?”

You exhaled sharply, knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong but unwilling to admit it. “Fine. But Dennis? He’s my friend! He could have helped me out instead of hogging the nicest room in the house.”

Arthur snorted. “You know Dennis and Paul! I’m pretty sure they're just quietly rooting for some ‘enemies to lovers’ drama between you and Charles. Probably think it’s entertaining"

You stared at him in disbelief, heat rising to your cheeks. “Oh my God. Why do you all think this is some slow-burn romance novel? I’m not in love with him anymore. That was just a stupid teenage crush!”

Arthur grinned wider, clearly delighted. “Sure, sure. But that doesn’t mean you two don’t have… something.”

“Ugh!” You grabbed a pillow and launched it at him, but he easily dodged, laughing as he slid off the bed to avoid further projectiles.

“Relax, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking,” he teased, leaning casually against the wall. “And for the record, I would have swapped with you. But Charles would kill me. You know how I snore, and—let’s be real—we’ve already lived together long enough. He’d probably prefer sharing a bathroom with you than enduring that again.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I just don’t get it. He hates me just as much as I hate him. Why would he rather share with me than you?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his knowing smirk returning. “Oh, I have my theories. But I’m staying out of it.”

“That’s not helpful,” you muttered, exasperated.

Arthur chuckled, pushing off the wall. “Look, you could always sleep on the couch. But if you do…” He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You’re letting him win.”

“Fair point,” you admitted begrudgingly.

Arthur patted your shoulder as he walked toward the door. “Good luck surviving the week. Don’t kill each other—well, at least not where anyone can see.”

Once he was gone, the silence of the room felt heavy. You sighed, glancing toward the adjoining bathroom door—the one that connected your room to Charles’.

As if on cue, the faint sound of running water reached your ears. You groaned inwardly, already dreading the inevitable awkward encounters. Maybe Arthur was right. Maybe this was all just some cosmic joke meant to test your patience.

But as you sank onto the edge of the bed, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else—something unsettling that you didn’t want to name. Whatever it was, you shoved it aside, determined to prove that you could handle this without giving anyone the satisfaction of watching you squirm.

For now, you focused on unpacking the rest of your things, trying to ignore the quiet tension creeping in through the bathroom door.

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Later that day, the dinner table was alive with chatter, forks scraping plates, and glasses clinking as the group settled into an easy rhythm of conversation. The garden outside glowed under the string lights Pierre had painstakingly strung earlier, their warm light casting a soft glow over everyone seated at the table. Plates were piled high with food, the occasional burst of laughter cutting through the gentle hum of evening crickets.

You sat between Dennis and Arthur, trying your best to ignore the magnetic pull of Charles, seated directly across from you. He was deep in conversation with Joris about the best overtaking strategies, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke. You told yourself you weren’t paying attention, but your eyes betrayed you, flickering to him more often than you’d like.

Arthur leaned over, breaking your reverie. “You’ve barely touched your plate,” he teased, nodding toward your half-eaten dinner.

“Maybe I lost my appetite after sitting across from that,” you said pointedly, your fork gesturing vaguely in Charles’ direction.

Charles, sharp as ever, caught the jab immediately. His green eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, resting an arm lazily on the table. “Careful,” he drawled. “That attitude of yours might scare away any remaining appetite you have.”

Dennis snickered quietly beside you, earning a glare from you and a soft punch to his shoulder. “Don’t encourage him,” you muttered.

“Who, me?” Dennis asked innocently.

The banter escalated as the evening wore on. Drinks began to flow more freely—wine for most, a few beers for the others—and snacks were passed around as the group moved to the garden chairs scattered across the lawn. The stars above provided the perfect backdrop, but you were too caught up in the ebb and flow of conversation to appreciate them fully.

You and Charles kept up your usual sniping, each comment sharper than the last. It wasn’t long before Pierre, clearly exasperated, threw up his hands. “Enough, you two. I swear, if you keep this up, we’ll have to start taking bets on which one of you snaps first.”

“I’m not snapping,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Charles smirked, taking a leisurely sip of his drink. “Neither am I. I’m having the time of my life.”

The group burst into laughter, easing the tension momentarily. But across the garden, Dennis leaned toward Arthur, his voice dropping low enough to stay out of earshot.

“Am I the only one seeing it?” Dennis asked, his gaze darting between you and Charles.

Arthur followed his line of sight, frowning slightly. “Seeing what?”

“Come on, Thur,” Dennis said, nudging him. “The tension. The way they bicker? That’s not just hate. That’s something else.”

Arthur hesitated, his brows furrowing. “I don’t know. With her? I can’t tell. She used to have a thing for him, sure. But now? One moment I think she’s over it, and the next…”

Dennis grinned knowingly. “She’s not over it. And Charles? He’s head over heels. Look at the way he watches her when she’s not looking. The guy’s smitten.”

Arthur laughed at him "I've had my suspicions about him for a while, but he's difficult to read"

“Just saying, the sexual tension is insane.” Dennis laughed.

Arthur groaned, leaning back in his chair. “You’re talking about my brother. Ew.”

"Hey, in all honesty. If he indeeds feels that way about her, I don't judge him.." Dennis laughed at the disgusted face that Arthur was pulling "Because, come on, you gotta admit it, she's hot"

Arthur shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Yeah, she’s hot. I'm aware of that, but I don’t see her that way. Never did, to be honest. We kissed a couple of times, but it was never like that" he said, a laugh present on his face as he thought back to the memories "I guess like once or twice during drinking games, and I remember one time when we were just young and hopeless, so we tried kissing like once, but it honestly was like… kissing my sister. Just weird.”

Dennis nodded, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I know that, Thur. But your brother? He doesn’t seem to think it’s weird.”

Dennis was watching you and Charles with barely concealed amusement, his eyes flicking between the two of you like he was watching a slow-motion car crash. He leaned a little closer to Arthur, smirking. "I mean, come on," he said under his breath. "Do they think they’re fooling anyone?"

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "They’ve been like this for ages. It’s exhausting just being around it."

Gigi, sitting nearby and clearly picking up on their hushed tones, laughed softly and joined in. “It’s mildly funny, though. They’re trying so hard to keep up this weird act of hating each other. Like, come on—it’s obvious they don’t actually hate each other.”

Dennis grinned, nodding toward Charles. “Right? The guy looks like he’s about to break his neck just to glance at her without being obvious.”

Gigi shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “What I don’t get is what caused all this. They used to be great friends. Back when she was still in love with him” she explained “they were actually kind of inseparable. So, what changed?”

Dennis tilted his head, considering her words. “Do you think she's still in love with him?”

Gigi paused, her brow furrowing slightly. “Honestly? I don’t think so. I mean, she still thinks he’s hot—because, let’s face it, he is hot—but she doesn’t act the way she used to. Back then, she was constantly hopeful. And let's face it, he was her first ever proper crush, so he might have a special place, but I don't think she's still in love with him. Now it's just different"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“She just seems... done. Like she gave up on him a while ago.” Gigi shrugged again, her tone thoughtful. “And honestly, I don’t blame her. If Charles does feel something now, he's probably too late. She’s waited long enough. Sure, when she was younger, the age gap made sense. She was too young. But by the time she was, like, 20, she was old enough. She still had feelings for him then, and he never even did anything about it.”

Dennis tapped his chin dramatically. “That’s rough. And if he does admit something now, what do you think? Should she go for it?”

Gigi frowned, her gaze shifting toward you briefly. “I don’t know. It would feel... weird. Like, if he didn’t see her that way before, why now? It might just feel like he’s choosing her because it’s convenient.”

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples. “Can we not psychoanalyze my brother’s love life, please?”

Gigi shifted her gaze to Dennis, a sly grin spreading across her face. “What about you? You and her seem close. Maybe something’s blossoming there?”

Dennis raised an eyebrow, a surprised chuckle escaping him. “Me and her? Nah, come on.”

Gigi tilted her head, still smirking. “What? I’m just saying, you two seem to have this... vibe.”

Dennis laughed, shaking his head. “Look, she’s hot. I’d hook up with her in a heartbeat if she wanted to, but something serious? Nah. We both know it’s not like that.”

Gigi rolled her eyes, clearly amused. “You’re an idiot.” she laughed.

Arthur leaned back, groaning dramatically. “Why are we even having this conversation? Can we not dissect every potential romantic possibility?”

Gigi laughed. “Oh, come on, Arthur. Admit it. It’s entertaining.”

Arthur shook his head, muttering under his breath. “You all need help.”

Both Gigi and Dennis laughed out loud at Arthur's comment, finding it funny how Arthur reacted.

Before anyone could say more, their conversation was cut short when Charles, who had clearly overheard snippets of their hushed tones, called out from across the garden. “What’s so funny over there?”

Arthur, Dennis, and Gigi exchanged a quick look before Arthur spoke, his tone far too casual. “Oh, nothing much. Just debating which one of us would survive the longest if we had to endure one of your lectures on strategy.”

Charles narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Sure,” he muttered, turning back to his conversation with Joris. But the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement, even as he pretended not to care.

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As the night wore on, the group began to disperse, some heading to bed while others lingered to enjoy the cool night air. You made your way up to your room, feeling restless. Grabbing the cigarette Inès had reluctantly given you earlier, you stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze brushing against your skin.

The first drag burned your throat, a harsh reminder of why you’d quit. But tonight, the weight in your chest felt heavier than usual, and this seemed like the only way to breathe again.

The quiet was short-lived. The soft creak of the balcony door opening made you stiffen, and when you turned, you found Charles stepping out.

“If you’re planning to mock me for smoking, shut up,” you said, not even trying to hide your annoyance.

Charles raised his hands defensively. “I wasn’t planning on anything.”

He leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the view rather than you. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the tension ebbing into something softer.

“Are you going to keep standing there, or are you taking a seat?” you asked, nudging a chair toward him with your foot.

He sat without a word, the quiet between you stretching but not uncomfortable.

“I thought you quit,” he said finally, his voice soft.

You took another drag, exhaling slowly. “I did.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Figures.”

“But then my best friend decided it was a good idea to take me on a holiday and make me share a bathroom and connecting rooms with his brother" You smirked faintly "Don’t know if you’ve met him, but he’s got a massive ego and loves getting on his brother’s best friend’s nerves. Pathetic, really.”

Charles laughed, the sound low and warm. “Can’t say I’ve met him. But he probably has a good reason.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh, a rare moment of peace between the insults. You held out your cigarette to him, a small gesture of truce.

Charles hesitated before taking it, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The touch was fleeting but electric, sending a jolt through him that he didn’t entirely wanted to administer. He took a drag, exhaling slowly, his eyes on the stars.

“For someone who claims to hate me this much, this seems pretty generous,” he said, handing it back.

“Maybe I’m trying to ruin your lungs so you screw up your next race,” you replied dryly, leaning back in your chair.

Charles hummed in mock agreement. “Hmm. If you say so.”

The silence lingered between you and Charles, stretching into something neither of you was used to—quiet, companionable, and strangely comfortable. You stared out at the darkened garden, the faint glow of the string lights from below casting soft shadows across the balcony. The cigarette burned low between your fingers, the occasional ember flaring as you took a slow drag.

Charles shifted slightly in his seat, his arms resting casually on the chair's arms, his eyes flicking to you when he thought you weren’t looking. The lines of his face were softened by the night, his usual sharpness replaced by a contemplative calm.

“You’ve gotten quieter,” you muttered, breaking the silence. “What? Run out of things to argue about already?”

He smirked, glancing at you. “Just pacing myself. Don’t want to exhaust all my good comebacks in one night.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Oh, please. I’ve heard them all before. You’re not that original.”

“Maybe I’m just giving you a chance to catch up,” he quipped, a faint grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and for a moment, it almost felt easy—like the walls you’d both carefully built were thinning, letting something more natural seep through.

The two of you lapsed back into silence, the occasional sound of the night filling the void. Charles tapped his fingers lightly against the chair, his rhythm steady, almost soothing. He tilted his head back slightly, staring up at the stars.

“What do you think they’re talking about down there?” he asked suddenly, nodding toward the garden where the others were still chatting.

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Knowing Arthur and Dennis? Something dumb. Probably debating the best flavor of chips or some other nonsense.”

Charles chuckled softly. “Sounds about right.”

Minutes passed, the quiet stretching comfortably between you. Occasionally, your gazes met, and though neither of you spoke, there was an unspoken exchange—something in the way his eyes softened just slightly when he looked at you.

Finally, you stood, brushing ash from your hands. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom and go to bed.”

Charles didn’t respond immediately, his eyes following your movements. Just as you reached the doorway, he called out softly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“You know,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “aside from all the arguments… you know I don’t actually hate you, right?”

You froze in the doorway, his words hanging in the air between you. Slowly, you turned, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You have a shit way of showing that,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

Charles gave you a small, almost rueful smile. “I’ll work on it.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before nodding. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, watching as you disappeared inside.

In the bathroom, the scent of him lingered—subtle but unmistakable. It was maddening how easily it unsettled you, making your chest tighten with an unspoken weight. You closed the door behind you, locking both his and your side with care, as if the physical barrier could somehow keep your thoughts at bay.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the faint steam from the earlier shower still clinging to the edges of the glass. “Get over it,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible. “You hate him. Remember?”

But the words felt hollow, even to your own ears.

The shower’s warm spray hit your skin, washing away the tension that had settled in your shoulders, but it couldn’t quite cleanse your mind. Images of his face lingered—his small, almost shy smile when he’d said he didn’t hate you, the way his fingers had brushed against yours earlier when you passed him the cigarette.

You lingered longer than usual, hoping the heat of the water would somehow dissolve the confusion swirling inside you. When you finally stepped out and dried off, you felt no closer to clarity, only exhaustion.

Back in your room, the muffled sounds of movement from the adjoining space made you pause. You could hear him faintly—the soft creak of his bed, the shuffle of fabric as he adjusted his position. It was strangely intimate, knowing he was so close, separated only by a thin wall.

Sliding into bed, you stared at the ceiling, the room’s quiet amplifying the sounds next door. Your mind drifted despite your best efforts, and with a sigh, you reached for your phone.

You: Bathroom’s free

You'd typed it quickly, hesitating for a moment before pressing send. Before you could even process your message, the reply already came.

Charles: Thanks.

You put your phone on your nightstand, plugging it in the charger, before crawling deeper beneath the covers. You tried to fall asleep, but it felt impossible. Every movement he made, every creak of his bed, echoed faintly. It made you realize once more, in what close proximity you both were, keeping you awake longer than you’d like. Eventually though, sleep claimed you, surprisingly peaceful despite everything.

☆ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

sabotage!

The fan turned slowly, rustling the leaves of the plants hanging from your ceiling. Every time it swept your direction, a wave of relief washed over you. The heat emanating from every wall of the apartment was unbearable—bad enough that you’d grown used to spending your evenings in the little office you rented just to escape it.

But you had to be at home. At least sometimes.

The open window allowed no breeze in. The building’s ventilation was so poorly designed it felt like the heat was sitting on the back of your head. Heavy. Suffocating. You moved slowly through the haze, trying to focus on the chores piling up around you.

Mingyu was supposed to come over in a few minutes. But the apartment was in such a state that you couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

Two things made that nearly impossible: Mingyu. And the damn heat.

“I could bring ice cream. Or beer. Or both,” read his most recent text.

You could read it in his voice.

“No ice cream, no entry,” you replied, shaking your head and huffing at yourself for smiling at your screen.

You left your phone charging on the kitchen counter and returned to rinsing the plates. A few seconds later, it buzzed again. You nearly dropped one bowl, scrambling to check your phone.

“Oof. Cruel. Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Not cruel. Just fair. Strawberry.”

You paused, eyes on the screen, waiting for those three little dots to appear. Then, without meaning to, you scrolled back through hundreds of messages. Conversations that wandered from the mundane to the ridiculous to the deeply personal. The memes, the TMIs. As if you’d never stopped talking.

It was as though those years without seeing each other had never happened. As though those years had happened in one day. You hadn’t seen Mingyu since you both turned eighteen. After school ended, life pulled you in opposite directions. Years without contact—until now, of course.

You rinsed off the last plate and placed it neatly in the rack. Leaning against the counter, you stared out of the window, even though there was nothing to see but the windows of the next building reflecting the heat from the summer.

Your phone buzzed one more time on the counter, and you raised it to read Mingyu’s text causing your tummy to clench. “On my way”

You didn’t know exactly when it had started—this ache inside you whenever Mingyu texted. Or whenever you began checking your phone every morning and before going to bed. Your heart did this anxious little flip every time you knew he was coming over or every time he called.

It isn’t like that. You told yourself sternly. It’s not like you’re in love already. It can’t be.

Then, like a mantra, you repeated to yourself: no strings, no expectations. It’s casual.

Would it be so bad, though? To fall for someone who has shown you affection, and cares for you. Not only that but—Mingyu looked good. Better than you remembered. In school, he was one of the good-looking ones, but quiet, and focused. Top of the class. Not the flirty type. Now he was taller. Broader. He carried himself proudly. He was stronger and softer all at once. The baby fat was gone from his face, but the boy you knew was still there—the same warmth behind the smile, the same gentleness in the teasing and bantering.

You, on the other hand, did not have the same figure you had at school. Your body had changed, your chest and hips had filled out and, although you still had some belly and fluffy thighs, you felt comfortable in your skin. Good, even.

And what was best of all was that Mingyu made you feel seen.

Not that it meant a thing, though. The last time you talked, you were still labelled your thing as friends. Friends who have crossed a line no friends usually do.

You looked around your apartment and suddenly were very aware of how it looked. It wasn’t messy, just a plain picture of how you were living your life currently. Like someone who was doing their best to keep up with life, work, and such. A cluttered rack of shoes. A forgotten bowl of cereal sitting beside your laptop. A load of clothes spinning in the washing machine.

That wasn’t the problem, though. You felt that the real mess was in you. But you weren’t ready to admit that yet.

The last breakup was still a wound you hadn’t dared to touch again. Your ex had waited years to tell you he didn’t believe he would want marriage, nor something more committed. And even if Mingyu’s breakup was a different kind of heartbreak, you weren’t sure he’d understand yours. Even worse—you weren’t sure you would recover if he didn’t.

You were about to fold the blanket thrown on the couch, suppressing the thought of checking your phone. But you knew there were no new messages. Mingyu was coming. And that was almost both the comfort and the problem. As though you wanted to see him but push the truth as far as you could.  

You wanted to tell him the truth. But you also wanted to stretch what you had before you gathered the courage to tell him.

Your heart gave a leap inside your chest when the doorbell rang. You ran to the door to get it, taking a deep breath before pulling the door open.

Mingyu stood there. Perfect in all his six-foot-something glory, wearing green cargo pants, a plain white t-shirt, and that beautiful smile that made your tummy twist. In one hand, he held a bag of groceries.

He lifted the bag to show off the pint of ice cream. “Strawberry, as Milady requested,” he announced with a goofy tone.

You huffed despite yourself, leaning against the doorframe. “Wow. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Cute and also melting,” he said with a heavy sigh, looking at you in plea. “Please tell me your fan is working.”

“It’s barely hanging in there, but it’s working just fine,” you rolled your eyes playfully, stepping aside so he could get inside your apartment.

He kicked off his shoes at the door and headed straight for the living room, dropping the bag on the kitchen counter along the way. The second the fan hit him, he groaned in delight, collapsing onto the couch as though he lived there.

You didn’t want to admit that hanging out with Mingyu was becoming addictive. So much so that your body was starting to depend on him. You felt as though you could finally breathe now that he was there. 

“So this is the screen,” he said, pointing at the rectangular box propped against the wall. Then he comically slid off the couch to sit beside it on the floor, inspecting the unopened stand box like it was a Christmas gift waiting for it to be opened.

“It came yesterday,” you replied, putting the ice cream in the freezer and the beer in the fridge.

“And this is the stand?” he asked, turning the box over.  

“Yup,” you said, closing the fridge. “I haven’t had the time to put it up.”

“Or to get rid of the packaging I see,” he added with a playful grin.  

You shot him a glare. “God forbid I have a life.”

“Sure, yeah,” he teased, his eyes flitting to the stack of dishes and the rumble of your washing machine.  

You rolled your eyes, crossed the room and stood over him. “Your visiting privileges are gonna be revoked real soon.”

Mingyu clicked his tongue and reached for the back of your knee, tugging it lightly. With his other hand, he took yours and pulled you down beside him on the floor. He was warm, as he usually was. And you hated how good it felt to have his touch on you again.  

You sat down next to him, your knee brushing his.

Mingyu looked at you, his gaze softening as it drifted from your eyes and then to your lips. “I bought you ice cream,” he said like it meant something.

“I know,” you replied, grinning while looking at him expectantly.

“Don’t I get something in return?” he asked, his tone low.

You laughed lightly, though your heart was fluttering like crazy. “You get a thanks,” you said.

Mingyu smiled, slipping a hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. His lips met yours in a tender kiss, fleeting. “Mmn,” he mumbled. “That’s enough.”

He kissed you like he meant it. That’s what you wanted to believe—because it was what you felt. “Okay,” you giggled sweetly, kissing him again. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

He gave a small smile and nudged the box again. “So where do you want this thing?”

You pointed to the bare wall across from the couch. “Right there.”

Mingyu pulled back slightly. “You have a good eye,” he said, grinning when you just clicked your tongue. “What? I mean it!”

Mingyu got to work while you just hovered, handing him screws, and the drill. Almost like playing doctor—he’d say, “Drill,” and you would pass it to him. “Screw. Hold this. Now give me a kiss.”

While he worked, you tried not to stare, but something about watching him work, his focused brow, the sleeves of this t-shirt rolled up to his pits, the sweat trickling down his forehead… he made it impossible not to gawk.

It took a little over half an hour, and a bit of playful bantering over how low or how high the TV should go, considering you were, in his words “A cute baby.” But the TV was successfully mounted. And he gave it a firm pat like he was proud of a job well done.

“Okay, you’re hired,” you said as he turned to you, almost completely covered in sweat.

“I’ll accept payments in ice cream and kisses,” he shrugged with an incredible ease.

The two of you ended up back on the floor again, the fan humming in front of you, the screen glowing in the dark with the opening credits of some mind-numbing action movie neither of you had the interest to actually watch.

But he sat beside you, legs extended on the floor, his thigh brushing yours, his arm slung loosely on the couch behind you.

You felt the need to relax into his arm. To stay in the comfort of his warmth and not think too hard.

“Do you want more ice cream?” he asked softly as the movie dove into another mindless action scene. It was a car chase this time, and it was so long that both of you just disconnected. 

“Yes, please,” you said, getting ready to stand up.

“Stay here. I’ll bring it to you,” he said kindly, getting your mug and his.

You watched him go to the kitchen, but you were suddenly distracted by his phone buzzing on the floor right beside you. The screen lit up, and you wouldn’t have looked, but the name was too easy to watch with just one blink of your eyes.

Gigi: Give me a chance to explain. I think we made a mistake… Read the preview message on the screen.

But before you could even muster a reaction, he was coming back, two mugs full of ice cream in his hands. He plopped down beside you with a sigh, completely oblivious to his phone, or the stammering pain in your heart.

The TV screen cast a soft light across the room, flickering over your face, and the faint sheen of sweat on your collarbones. You weren’t really watching the movie anymore, or eating ice cream. Instead, your eyes kept drifting toward his phone. It lay between you and Mingyu, silent. But your heart was still buzzing with the name you’d seen flash on the screen.

Gigi.

You didn’t know her. Not really. You hadn’t dared ask. Mingyu had mentioned his ex only a couple of times when he told you about her, about the things she did to leave a mark on him.

But you never pressed. Maybe because you were afraid of what he’d say. Or deep down, you didn’t want to be compared. You didn’t want her to exist in your mind. A faceless, nameless competitor.

But now, she had a name.

You were sure it was her. Who else would be texting those words?

You shifted slightly, pulling your knees up to your chest and hugged them tightly. You pretended to focus on the movie. Mingyu laughed at something, nudging your shoulder. You laughed too. But you were on autopilot now.

Your throat tightened.

No strings, no expectations. This was supposed to be casual, and easy. You had agreed to this. You said yes to casual. You said yes to him, even when you knew that you weren’t getting all of him.

But here you were, trying to get rid of the pain invading your chest.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

The phone buzzed again—furiously this time. The screen lit up. Gigi was calling now. You swallowed hard, pretending to get your mug to swallow half-melted, but still cold strawberry ice cream.

Mingyu reached for his phone, pressing the Decline button and discarding the phone too easily. There was no expression on his face, nothing. He was too sure that you hadn’t seen anything because he leaned on you again like nothing had happened.

He declined the call. He didn’t even react. He was here, beside you.

Still, the pain inside you tightened.

You glanced at him, his profile soft in the glow of the screen, his lips slightly curled in a downturned smile.

He looked relaxed. Happy, even. And it made something sting deep inside you. You felt that it was unfair that you were upset over something that he didn’t even give a second thought to. You wanted to be present in the moment. You wanted tonight to be just another night of comfort, of kisses, of strawberry ice cream.

You blinked slowly, forcing a breath through your nose.

Don’t say anything. Don’t ruin it. You’ll scare him off. You’ll make it something it’s not. It’s casual. It’s casual. It’s casual.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder like you didn’t see his ex calling his phone. Like you weren’t spiraling underneath your mask.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arm around you, letting his fingers trail gingerly along your arm.

At that moment, you decided to believe that this was enough.

You closed your eyes. He felt so close, and yet you felt so detached from yourself.

You could smell his cologne—the smell that lingered on your pillows for days. Citrusy, a mix of coconut and vanilla. Like summer, and so familiar. You could hear his soft breathing beside you, his little huffs of amusement when something in the ridiculously action-packed movie made him laugh.

And still, you felt stiff under his arm. Every nerve in your body recoiled at the gentle circles he was drawing on your shoulder. You tried to will yourself to relax, to enjoy his caress on your skin.

But you couldn’t stop the thoughts now. Had Gigi ever felt this too? Had she been leaning against his shoulder, skin prickling at those same soft circles Mingyu drew with his fingers?

You tried to push those thoughts away, to swallow the knot in your throat.

Mingyu shifted beside you, pulling you slightly closer to him, and you let him. But you couldn’t relax. Because you felt that if you did, you would sink deeper into the spiral. And he’d vanish. He’d leave like your ex did.

You had to come clean now. You had to admit it. You had fallen for someone who was never really yours. And you had done it willingly.

He leaned his head gently against yours. His voice came quiet and soft. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m just tired.”

He mouthed an okay and didn’t press any further. You realized then, that he never insisted. And that was part of the problem.

You wanted him to ask. You wanted to believe that if you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him, he would say the right thing, do the right thing—stay. Tell you he feels the same.  

You curled in closer and said nothing. Mingyu welcomed you in, his lips brushing the top of your head. He made a trail of soft kisses from your forehead to the tip of your nose, ending in your lips.

It almost made you cry.

The credits began to roll on the screen, the living room now splashed by blueish and greenish lights from the movie ending in a slideshow of the names of the cast. You were still curled into him, his arm loose around your shoulders, his body warm against yours.

You could feel his breathing, steady against your skin.

And for a second, fear loosened its grip around your heart.

You turned to him, lifting a hand to brush your fingers against his cheek, commanding his eyes to yours. You looked at the shape of his jaw, and the way his eyes focused on you. He looked peaceful. Present.

You opened your mouth, the words hovered on the tip of your tongue.

“I think I’m falling for you.”

But they stayed there. Heavy. Waiting.

You blinked, dropping your gaze to the floor again. The TV screen kept flashing, and the fan kept turning, brushing the back of your neck with its weak, rhythmic breeze. It wasn’t enough to cool the heat that had settled in the back of your head.

You swallowed hard. “Hey,” you said, your voice soft, so soft.

Mingyu tilted his head toward you. “Hm?”

You looked at him. Your chest ached with the thought of how easy it would be to love him.

But you swallowed your words. Maybe you were wrong to say yes to no strings. Maybe you were afraid to love again.

“I need to tell you something.”

But instead, you smiled.

“Thank you for the ice cream.” You said, tilting your head to press a kiss on his lips.

Mingyu smiled, pulling you closer to return the kiss to you, cupping your cheek with his hand. “Anytime.”

You leaned in against his body, kissing him deeper. His hand found your waist, clutching it gently as he slid his tongue on your lower lip. A moan bubbled in your chest before you could stop it. You didn’t want to moan. But it was too late now.

It was his effect. The effect his lips had on you. It was so irresistible, and addictive that you just couldn’t help it.

Mingyu smiled into the kiss, backing away a little, pressing a ghostly kiss on your lower lip. “I like it when you do that,” he whispered softly.

“When I do what?” you asked dumbly, afraid to open your eyes. You were just so flustered already that you didn’t want to see his stupidly beautiful face.

“Those sounds,” he said, closing the little space between you to press more featherlight kisses on your lips, using a hand on your chin to keep you in place.

“Yeah?” you breathed, becoming more and more drunk on his kisses.

“Yeah,” he replied in kind. “Makes me a little crazy,” he added, diving for another kiss.

Another moan got caught in your throat, but you kissed him back, tasting the strawberry ice cream on his tongue. Mingyu clutched your waist, his fingers brushing the sliver of tummy spilling between your shorts and your t-shirt that had hiked up your waist.

Your heart was racing now, feeling like you were on the verge of insanity. You didn’t care anymore—about no strings, about her name displaying on his phone.

Mingyu wasn’t yours. But he was here.

And he was kissing you like you were his. Touching you like your skin belonged to him and no one else. That was all that mattered. All you needed.

Your hand found his torso, loving the way his body was always warm, the way he always seemed to radiate warmth. As though even the sun loved him so much that he carried it everywhere.

You slipped a hand beneath his t-shirt, shyly feeling his lower tummy, the way his muscles clenched softly upon feeling your hand against his warm and soft skin. His breath hitched as he paused between kisses, and that almost made you stop.

But Mingyu grabbed your wrist, guiding your hand further up his torso, telling you where he needed your touch. You felt him up, his lats, his pectorals, inadvertently pushing his t-shirt up with your hands.

You backed away slightly, taking his t-shirt off and left it beside you on the floor. Returning your hands to him, you kissed him now with abandon, moaning salaciously in his mouth. You felt his chest, the warmth of his skin and the vibrations when he moaned back.

His hands roved on your back, dipping beneath your tank top to feel your skin freely. You let out a tiny moan when his fingers reached the line of your bra. He pulled away to remove your tank top, leaving it on top of his t-shirt.

Mingyu sent a silent glance at your face, right before his fingers slipped beneath the straps of your bra, tugging them down your shoulders. His hand moved back, unclasping your bra efficiently and leaving it on the floor.

You closed your eyes, releasing a sigh as his hands cupped your tits, palming them gently as his thumbs found your nipples to play with them. The fan swept over your half-naked bodies, making your skin prickle under his hands.

Mingyu wanted control that night. You could tell when he motioned you to lay back on the floor, and so you did, letting him have whatever he wanted from you. He started kissing your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses from the crook of your neck to your collarbones.

You sighed blissfully, a hand cupping the back of his head, feeling his long hair beneath your fingertips. You swallowed hard as his lips reached your chest, a hand cupping one of your tits again as he kissed and licked your skin.

“God—Mingyu,” you called softly in praise as his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, humming softly as his tongue rolled around your areola.

Your breathing hitched embarrassingly, your fingers curling around the strands of his hair as he nipped and tugged at your nipple with his teeth. Your mouth parted, letting out a soft moan that was barely audible.

The TV continued streaming another movie, one that you were too entranced to even pay attention to. But the soft glow coming from the screen allowed you to look at Mingyu as he glanced at your eyes. A soft smile appeared on his lips as he pressed a peck on your nipple before teasing the other.

Noises filled the room, the movie playing on the TV, the fan turning on one corner, Mingyu’s lips on your skin and your moans.

His trail of kisses continued down your tummy, kissing every inch of your skin slowly, as though he wanted to cover your whole body with affection. You flinched slightly when his hands clutched your waist, his fingers sinking onto your skin as his lips reached the spot below your belly button.

Mingyu pulled back as his hands grabbed the band of your shorts, pulling them down, and bringing your panties along. You raised your knees, helping him get the last two pieces of clothing you were wearing. He left your clothes aside, stopping to look at you—splayed on the floor, completely naked for him. The only thing illuminating the room was the soft glow coming from the TV screen, but it was enough to see the entranced look on his face.

You were about to ask—just pry a little into the meaning of that look he was giving you. Your heart was racing like crazy, and even though you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak up.

Mingyu beat you to it. With a sigh, he said, “You’re beautiful.”

Your heart paused, unsure of what to say. It was certainly not the first time he had said something like this, but you were too stunned or too entranced to even reply with a simple thanks.

“I have something to tell you, Mingyu,” your inner voice spoke, over and over as he continued loving your skin with kisses, sending you looks while his lips descended to your mound.

His hands parted your thighs gently, and you closed your eyes as he ran his tongue on your inner thigh, bringing a lewd moan from you. Feeling his mouth so close to your pussy sent you into a frenzy, making you nearly forget everything. He continued kissing and licking, prepping you until your pussy was dripping.

And when he finally licked you, your body became ablaze with pleasure. You arched your back on the floor, your fingers reaching for his hair as he licked your pussy with broad strokes, tasting you, drinking you in.

“Fuck—Mingyu,” you moaned, the sound so lewd, so sweet that it made him moan against your pussy.

His tongue slid up and down your folds, teasing you until you were reaching desperation. You buckled your hips slightly, trying to tell him where you needed his mouth the most.

But his hands gripped you by the thighs, forcing them open and commanding you to hold steady, right before his lips trapped your clit, sucking it gently. You cried out loudly, thankful that the movie playing on the TV was loud enough to cover your noises.

He suckled your clit, tugging it gently and slowly as his tongue started teasing it too, pushing it with slow motions. You were breathing hard, your body limp with pleasure, skin prickling under his hands.

You opened your eyes and saw his head between your thighs, pleasuring you like there was no tomorrow like there was no other girl in the world. 

That was when the phone on the floor next to the couch came back on. The soft glow cast a slight shadow on the ceiling above you. You didn’t need to look. But your eyes moved anyway. Gigi. She was calling again.

You stared at the screen for a second, your heart racing. But Mingyu kept pleasuring you, oblivious to his surroundings, so wrapped up in you that he hummed against your skin.

Two of his fingers slipped inside you, curling gently against your walls. You exhaled a moan, the pleasure so great, so sweet that you decided to ignore the phone. It was still buzzing on the floor, sounding so faint in contrast to the TV screen that he remained blissfully oblivious to it.

So you stroked his scalp with your fingers, gently brushing his hair as he ate you out. Suddenly, something came over you, something so ugly you didn’t know how to get rid of it—Mingyu was here, while his ex was trying to reach for him. And you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel sorry for the girl.

Because when Mingyu made you cum, it was the best experience you had ever felt in your life. Your orgasm was so long, so intense that you felt like you were falling from the tallest building, out of control. You screamed his name, you gasped, you cried until you couldn’t breathe.

And when he finally climbed on top of your body, you wrapped your arms tightly around him as he fucked you. You forgot about his ex the minute his cock was inside you.

She didn’t call again. And Mingyu slept in your bed.

The next few days were slow. It was a lazy morning for Mingyu. The apartment was quiet, aside from the TV running on low volume.

Mingyu saw on the couch, sprawled with one arm tucked under his head, his eyes barely on the screen. His coffee sat untouched on the table, and he believed that it had already gone cold.

He checked his phone lazily, seeing your name from a message you had sent half an hour ago. He didn’t want to open it, not yet. Not when his ex’s name was just below yours.

Wonwoo came out of his bedroom, curiously sending his gaze over the living room. “Morning,” he said flatly, entering the open kitchen.

“Good morning,” he replied with a soulless tone.

Wonwoo grabbed the cereal box, and a bowl and got the milk from the fridge with mechanical movements. “Everything okay with you?”

Mingyu shook his head no. He sighed again, opening his phone to block Gigi’s number after sending her a simple text that read, “Don’t look for me anymore” and turned off his phone again.

“What’s up with you, then?” Wonwoo asked.

Mingyu didn’t look at him. “I’m just tired.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “No, this is new.”

Mingyu exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s not a big deal, hyung.”

“Which only means that it is,” Wonwoo said with expert ease, moving to sit on the other end of the couch.

Mingyu remained silent, and this was his biggest tell. He was usually the talkative one, not Wonwoo. Their dynamic as best friends and roommates had always been easy. But ever since Mingyu and his ex broke up, Wonwoo had been selecting his words carefully.

“Is this… about your ex?” Wonwoo dared to ask.

Mingyu huffed. “I just blocked her,” he rolled his eyes.

Wonwoo cocked his head to one side. “Really?”

“Really. This isn’t about Gigi.”

Wonwoo gaped a little. “So this is about her,” he realized, not hiding his surprise. “Isn’t your thing casual?” he asked carefully, pushing his frames up the bridge of his nose with one knuckle.

Mingyu nodded, sitting up straight on the couch. “Yeah, that’s the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back and releasing a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe… I mean—it’s easy with her. But I’m starting to think that I’m just not doing this for fun.”

Wonwoo listened quietly.

Mingyu continued, “She makes me feel—” Mingyu stopped, pausing to glance at the ceiling. “I don’t know.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “She makes me feel like being with someone again isn’t such a bad idea.”

Wonwoo let out a breath. “But that’s good, isn’t it?” he asked.

Mingyu shrugged. “It should be.” He said half-heartedly, leaning his head on the headrest of the couch, his eyes swimming upwards. “But every time I think about labelling it something, I freeze. I don’t even have the courage to take her on a date. I feel like I’ll mess it up.”

The moment Wonwoo heard that, he went rigid. Mingyu had told him so little about how his relationship with Gigi ended. But he was there to see the state that Mingyu had been in when they broke up. 

It was as though the very life had been drained from him. The kind, charismatic Mingyu was replaced by the shadow of a stranger. Cold, lifeless, broken.

Something unfamiliar stirred deep within Wonwoo. He thought about keeping his judgement light, and impartial. But he couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of worry—not only for Mingyu but for you as well. 

“I may not know her like you,” Wonwoo said after the long pause. “But I know that most women don’t want a perfect guy, just someone that cares.”

Mingyu continued staring at the ceiling, letting the words sink in. “Yeah, I know. And I care.”

Wonwoo refrained from pointing out the way that Mingyu uttered those last words. It was a detached manner, weak. Just off.

Mingyu sighed, running his hand over his face again. “Okay, maybe I’m not all in,” he confessed, drawing his words weakly. “I think it’s easier this way, you know? If I don’t care, it won’t hurt when she leaves once she figures I’m not enough for her.”

“Why are you so sure she’ll leave?” Wonwoo asked slowly.

Mingyu shook his head lightly, chewing his lip like it was the best way to keep his mouth from saying something stupid. “Gigi left like it was nothing. Like all the time we were together was nothing.”

Wonwoo sat there, rigid. He wanted to get a better look at Mingyu’s face, to understand what was happening behind those eyes.

But Mingyu remained looking at the ceiling, it was the best way he could keep himself talking without giving too much. So he continued, his voice lower now: “And now I have this girl who actually listens. She makes me laugh. She makes me want to do things again. But I keep thinking—Mingyu, you’re going to fuck this up.”

Wonwoo waited for Mingyu to keep talking. But when nothing more was said, he racked his brains for something smart to say. But the truth was, Wonwoo was a calculated man. His advice was always straight to the point. And he didn’t have a lot of experience with romantic feelings.

He was a guy that just knew what he wanted, but sometimes people wanted what they couldn’t get. And Wonwoo knew that well enough.

“Maybe. Maybe you will. Maybe you won’t,” Wonwoo said, remembering vaguely the things he said to you the last time he saw you. “Maybe she’s not Gigi.”

Mingyu snapped, his gaze panning to Wonwoo. “She’s not.” He said without hesitation.

Wonwoo huffed, rolling his eyes with faux annoyance. “You care.” He said. “It’s blatantly obvious that you do. So stop acting like it’s casual. Because if you’re not all in, then that would make things ugly. Not only for you, but for her too.”

Mingyu swallowed hard, he didn’t speak. Something in his entire demeanour softened, and then he sighed, blinking for a long second. “Yeah,” he whispered.

Then he reached for his phone, opened it, and looked at your message. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard before he started typing.

Wonwoo got up from the couch, patting Mingyu’s head gently. “You’ll be fine,” he said quietly.

Mingyu didn’t reply, his eyes lifting to look at his best friend. He smiled softly, nodding at him before driving his attention back to his phone.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Mingyu won’t fuck this up. Maybe he will. But he had to at least try.

The next week, the gym was buzzing with energy—loud music playing through the speakers, weights clanking, fans turning on the ceiling.

You were now taking a liking to coming here late in the morning when it wasn’t too packed. You were midway through the second set of weighted squats, trying to keep your form perfect and your gaze away from the mirrors. 

But a looming figure over your body made you lift your gaze, spotting Jungkook behind you, grinning like an idiot. 

“You need a spot or just trying to show off?” he said with a tone you hated to hear from him.

You rolled your eyes but ended up smiling. “Don’t you have other people to bother?”

He leaned against the support bar of the smith machine, tattoed arms crossed over his puffed chest. “I do. But none of them clap back at me like you.”

“Pfffft.” You racked the bar, grabbing your towel. “Trainer and local menace. You really do multitask.”

“Triple threat,” he said, half-joking. “I’m also a hottie. And on top of that, I make playlists that motivate you to take over the world.”

You laughed, genuinely this time. “Sure. Can you make a playlist to motivate me to not have an emotional crisis?”

“No. But I took a course on self-therapy,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Do you want to talk?” he asked genuinely. 

You smiled at him, shrugging off. “I’m okay,” you reassured him, though deep inside something protested against your lie. “I’m just here to clear my head.”

“And look great while doing it,” he added without missing a beat.

You gave a dramatic gasp. “Jungkook, are you hitting on me again?”

He shrugged. “Can’t help it. It’s in my nature. And listen, if whoever broke your heart isn’t coming back, I’m totally available to make bad choices with you. You have my number.”

Your mouth was still hanging open, and you were about to fire something back, to call out his bluff. But your words caught mid-throat when you spotted a familiar figure across the room.

Mingyu.

Your stomach did a wild flip. He was walking in, gym bag slung over his shoulder, headphones half on, his gaze panning lazily across the gym floor—until it landed on you. Or more specifically, you and Jungkook.

Your breath hitched before you could control yourself.

Mingyu slowed just slightly, eyes tracking the two of you. There was a pause, a purse of his lips. He continued his stride towards you—he didn’t look happy. There was something flickering in his gaze. You were too slow to read it. Surprise, confusion? Something.

And that was when Jungkook interrupted whatever Mingyu was about to say. “Mingyuuuu. What’s up, man?”

Your stomach dropped. That was when you remembered that you had suspected Jungkook and Mingyu were friends. But you had to pretend you were none the wiser. “You two know each other?” you asked.

Jungkook looked between you both, genuinely confused. “Y-yeah? Mingyu is my best friend,” his brow furrowed. “Wait—” he looked at you, then at Mingyu. Then back to you. “Oh my god,” he drawled the words out. “You two know each other?”

Neither of you answered right away. But the silence made it more than obvious.

Jungkook blinked dumbly. “Wait. Like… know each other?”

Mingyu shrugged. “Yeah.”

You shot him a quick glance, then gave Jungkook a tight smile. “We have known each other since high school. We’ve reconnected recently.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. “You guys are—?” he pointed between you. “Like… you’ve—?”

Mingyu crossed his arms. “We’ve hung out.”

Jungkook stared at you both, then let out a breathy, awkward laugh. “Wow. Okay. Wow—”

“Stop it.” You deadpanned. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I would never,” he said, crossing his heart. Then he turned to Mingyu. “I swear I had no idea, man. I would’ve dialed the flirting back if I’d known she was your girl.”

Mingyu flinched a little. “She’s not.”

Your heart squeezed so hard that the air in your lungs disappeared. You could tell that he didn’t mean to say it like that, but it was too late to take it back. Or to fix it. 

“Oh,” Jungkook said, his eyes flicking to you. Then he seemed to understand something. He knew you well enough now to see the pain in your eyes. “Okay, then.”

You swallowed around the knot in your throat. “Mingyu, do you want to spot me?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

Jungkook stood between you, hands on his hips and looking like he had nowhere to go. “Alright. I’ll be… here if you need anything.”

Mingyu nodded silently, following you as you made your way to the rack where you were doing your squats.

Looking at Mingyu through the mirror, you noticed that his features were rigid under an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. This was when you realized that you had never seen him this serious—or upset.

You positioned yourself in the rack, pressing the bar on your shoulders and firmly gripping the it with both hands.

Mingyu got behind you, close enough to make you feel his presence as he surveyed your form. His gaze travelled from your figure and stopped in your eyes. “Ready?” he asked.

You replied with a nod, tightening your grip around the bar and pushing it from the rack. The weight on your shoulders was uncomfortable at first, as you were standing back from the rack.

But he seemed to catch something that you were unaware of. “Don’t carry the weight with your back,” he instructed, using a hand to motion at the area of your quads and glutes. “Focus on using the area here.”

“Okay,” you sighed and counted from one to three quietly before sinking down in a squat. Mingyu followed your movement, watching that your form was correct.

“Go lower,” he instructed now.

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he cut in.

You sent him an alarm look. “But I—”

“No buts,” he snapped, shaking his head twice. “You have to go lower. Half squats don’t count as reps.”

You gaped at him through the mirror, still carrying the heavy barbell on your shoulders. You couldn’t come up with any contradictions. You repeated your movements, sinking lower with the bar on your shoulders. The squat was deeper and required Mingyu to squat with you when you felt like your knees were about to give out.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised behind you, his eyes flitted to your reflection in the mirror, but then he looked somewhere else.

You followed his gaze, your stomach twisting violently when you realized that he had looked at Jungkook for a split second.

The bar clicked back into place with a metallic clank. You took deep breaths, feeling like if your knees weren’t giving out, your head would. You felt dizzy but weren’t entirely sure that it was because of the extraneous exercise.

Mingyu had helped you place the bar back, so his hands lingered on the bar, looking like he needed to grip himself back to earth.

You turned around, chest still heaving. His jaw was tight, his eyes trained on the mirror, and you knew who he was glaring at now.

“Mingyu,” you said cautiously.

He raised his eyebrows, pulling his gaze back to you. “Hm?”

“You’re staring,” you pointed.

He blinked, his features softening at once. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sure?”

He lowered his head a little, but his gaze remained on you. He was still gripping the bar, as though he needed something solid to hold onto. “I just…” he whispered, unsure. “I didn’t know you and Jungkook were that close.”

“We’re not,” you said quickly. “We’re just friends.”

Mingyu nodded, his eyes flitting away from your face. “Does he know that?” 

You went rigid, feeling confusion stunning you beyond your will. “Excuse me?”

Without meeting your eyes, he said, “He’s into you.”

You hadn’t quite recuperated from the exercise, you were still breathing hard. But realizing that Mingyu was genuinely jealous might have made you even dizzier.

Mingyu shook his head. “I mean, I can’t blame him,” he glanced back at your face. “You’re beautiful.”

You were too stunned to take his words as a compliment. “Does that bother you?”

Mingyu looked at you for a long second. “Yes,” he admitted with a soft tone. “It does.”

There was a pause, silence. You couldn’t comprehend the sudden surge of emotions that overcame you. A mix of confusion, excitement, relief…

But he sighed, lowering his gaze again. “I know we agreed to no labels. But when I saw him with you… when he said he has flirted with you, I—” He swallowed his words, and you knew well that he was also trying to push down his feelings. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I’m not being fair to you.”

You blinked at him, your heart pulsating in your ears. You wanted to tell him a million things. You wanted to tell him the exact thing he was feeling, you felt it when you saw his ex’s name on his phone the other night. You wanted to tell him to label this thing between you. 

“I understand,” you said, cursing yourself for being a coward again. “It’s okay. You’re being honest. But Jungkook and I are just friends. I don’t flirt with him—or anyone else.”

That made him look at you again. “Me neither,” he confessed, and you could see it in his eyes, the honesty was still there.

And you knew you were crazy because the fact made you feel happy. It made you feel special.

You showed him a light smirk, closing the distance despite the bar that was still between you. “You know,” you mumbled sweetly at him. “I’d kiss you right now.”

That caught him off-guard. He blinked twice, a smile tugging at his lips. “And what is stopping you?” he mumbled too, his voice low and sweet. It made something stir inside you.

“I’m all sweaty,” you giggled. You hated the sound. Sweet, honeyed.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Baby don’t be ridiculous,” he said, slipping a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back. He pressed his lips on yours a couple of times, giving you sweet kisses. Like those kisses, he gave you in the mornings. 

You smiled softly, backing away to look at his eyes. “I’m not done,” he mumbled, placing his hand on your cheek before he kissed you again, deeper this time.

“Gyu, we’re in public,” you whispered.

He smiled. “And? I haven’t seen my girl in days.”

Your breath hitched.

“Oh, I’m your girl now?” you asked playfully, ignoring the wild leap your heart gave.

He went still, pulling back so he could make eye contact with you again. “We need to talk about it but…” he sighed softly. “I’m not seeing anyone else. Just you. And I don’t want you to see anyone else either.”

Your heart fluttered and then sank a little. Because you understood where this conversation was going.

He was talking about exclusivity. Not commitment.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered, not hiding how alarmed you were sounding. “I thought we said no—”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “We’ll talk about it. Okay?”

You hesitated. But nodded all the same. “Okay,” you echoed.

However, you finished training before he did. Since you’d arrived earlier, you were already gathering your things by the time he was halfway through his long push workout. And you had to go—you were behind on work, and there were a dozen other things demanding your attention.

But you didn’t want to leave.

Mingyu was in the free weight section, focused on a set of bench presses. He looked glorious—sweaty, tired, but determined. His long hair was a mess, sticking damply against his face, and he kept pushing it back in between sets, clearly annoyed by it.

You walked over, gym bag slung over one shoulder.

Mingyu caught your reflection in the mirror, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He returned the bar to its rack with a loud metallic clang, then sat up and pulled his headphones down.

“You heading out?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

You nodded, slowly. Hesitant.

You wanted to say something. To ask if now was the time to talk about what had happened earlier—that weird little twist of jealousy, the accidental “my girl.” And also to talk about what had happened the other night at yours. You wondered if he had gotten around to talking with his ex after her incessant calling.

But the words stayed stuck in your throat.

Instead, you pulled the elastic band off your wrist and handed it to him. “You look like you need this.”

Mingyu smiled, taking it without hesitation. “That bad, huh?” he asked as he tied his hair up into a messy half ponytail with ease.

“Not bad,” you shrugged. “I kind of like it. It’s messy.”

He stood from the bench in one smooth motion. The proximity made your heart lurch. He somehow looked buffer, taller. 

You barely had time to react before his hand slipped to your lower back, tugging you gently against him. You giggled in protest. “Mingyu.”

“Hm?” he murmured, dipping his head. His lips grazed your cheek.

“You’re sweaty,” you sighed as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“You mind?” he mumbled, voice low and unhurried.

You shook your head, a sweet smile tugging at your lips.

He smiled back knowingly—then kissed you properly. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was deep, full of all the things neither of you had said nor talked about yet. The jealousy, the possessiveness, the longing. Like he wanted to show you off to someone. And you knew who. 

When he pulled back, his forehead touched yours for a second. “I’ll call you, okay?” he said gently.

“Okay,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

You left after that.

And as soon as the gym door swung closed behind you, a hollow ache settled in your chest. You felt like you’d just walked away from a conversation neither of you was ready for—but you couldn’t avoid much longer.

You kicked your shoes off the moment you got to your apartment, dropping the gym bag beside the shoe rack and letting it slump to the floor.

The apartment felt warmer than usual. Still and heavy with humidity. You opened a window and turned the fan on, the soft hum filling in the noise that you were beginning to dread again.

You tossed your keys onto the counter and stood there. You just stood in the kitchen, as though you were a stranger in your own space. You needed to do something.

Mingyu had kissed you like he meant it. He told you he didn’t want to see anyone else. He didn’t want you seeing other men. He called you his girl like it was nothing. It was almost like he knew what he was making you feel.

And part of you wanted to believe the meaning behind his kiss. You wanted to believe that him calling you his girl wasn’t accidental, or the product of his jealousy. You wanted those things to be enough. You wanted to let his admission of jealousy be the closest thing to clarity. Or assuredness.

But you’ve been here before.

You peeled your shirt off slowly as you headed to your bedroom. Moving on autopilot now, you started a cold shower. Then you did what you always did; skincare, dress in comfy clothes and get yourself get busy. It was the only ritual that brought you peace.

You sat on the edge of your bed, tapping the phone screen with your fingers. Anxiety was creeping in, you knew it.

You opened your chat with Mingyu. Read over the last few texts, checking for any signs that told you something. You saw the little black heart emoji you had added to his name tag.

Then, you started typing, your fingers trembling and making dumb typos that you struggled to correct.

Mingyu. I have something to tell you.

You stared at the words. Then you backspaced.

Hey, Gyu. Can we talk?

Backspace.

I’ve been wanting to tell you something.

You couldn’t do it. You backspaced again.

You tossed your phone somewhere on your bed, deciding to forget about it. To push it away for a little while longer.  

The Spot was unusually quiet for a Thursday. The kind of quiet that would let you work on your laptop while slowly nursing a cold beer.

You were tucked into the farthest booth, screen open, fingers hovering over the keyboard. But you weren’t really working.

Mingyu had been busy since you arrived. You suspected his boss had something to do with that—giving him a list of endless tasks just to keep him busy and away from your table. You didn’t really mind. In fact, you were grateful for the distance. You were also trying to avoid him, to avoid the fluttering, anxious feeling that his smile stirred in your tummy.

You hadn’t had a chance to talk. Not really. And yet, your connection hadn’t slowed. You still saw each other almost daily—at the gym, before his shifts, and sometimes after. You were both playing along. Avoiding the conversation. Avoiding the words that had started looming over you both: we need to talk.

So here you were, on a Thursday night, pretending to work while waiting for Mingyu to finish his shift. It wasn’t the first time. And you were almost certain that the second his boss saw you walk in, he found more things for Mingyu to do.

But that wasn’t the only reason you hadn’t typed a single word in twenty minutes.

You felt a heavy gaze on you. Wonwoo wasn’t nearly as busy. Just kept himself occupied with small tasks such as restocking the fridges, organizing the bar, and wiping down the same glass over and over.

From the corner of your eye, you caught him moving toward the fridge. He opened the door, and pulled out a fresh bottle of beer. You glanced down and realized yours was empty. You hadn’t even noticed you’d finished it.

Wonwoo approached and placed the new bottle on your table without a word. You blinked up at him, startled—pretending like you were only now realizing how long he’d been watching.

“Thanks,” you said.

Wonwoo had always shown himself to be cold. Reserved. Sometimes you swore he looked vaguely annoyed whenever he saw you with Mingyu. The only times you’d exchanged words with him, they left a bitterness lingering in your mouth.

You wrapped your fingers around the neck of your beer bottle, took a sip, and pretended to keep working on your laptop.

Wonwoo was still looking at you. Not saying anything. Just observing.

You were used to his observant nature by now. And as you took a longer gulp of beer, you geared up for what would no doubt be another awkward exchange.

You cleared your throat. “You’re staring,” you said, not bothering to look up.

He shrugged. “And you’re loitering.”

You raised your eyes from the screen. “I’m waiting,” you corrected. “I’m here for Mingyu.”

“Of course you are,” he snapped, crossing his arms.

There it is, you thought. That edge in his voice. The sarcasm he used was like a mask.

“You don’t like me much, do you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

That caught him off guard, just for a second. The mask slipped off. Something flickered across his face—quick, but you saw it.

“Did I say that?” he replied flatly.

“You don’t have to.” You gave a faint smile. “I can tell.”

You exhaled, glancing behind Wonwoo to make sure Mingyu wasn’t nearby. “Look,” you said, quieter now. “I get that you’re protective. You’re his best friend. I understand.”

Wonwoo’s brow furrowed, just slightly. It wasn’t anger. It was something closer to confusion.

You watched him beneath the red neon lights and the soft, yellow glow from the lamps overhead. His expression was shadowed, unreadable. But it wasn’t cold anymore.

“But Mingyu’s not some wounded puppy that needs guarding,” you continued. “He’s smart. He knows what he’s doing.”

Wonwoo raised a brow. “Does he? With you?”

The words stung. “Yes,” you said, voice firm. Steady. “He’s been through a lot. But he’s trying. That’s more than I can say for most people.”

Wonwoo didn’t respond.

But something in his face softened. But barely. Like something shifted behind his mask—just enough to notice.

“You don’t have to like me,” you said. “But don’t assume I don’t care about him. Because I do.”

Your words came out shaper than you had intended, and they hung between you. Fear flickered inside you, certainty slipping away from you. You knew you had a point, but there was something underneath it.

You watched Wonwoo’s face, he didn’t respond right away. You expected him to say something snarky, to question you, to scoff. But he just kept looking at you quietly, like he was trying to make two pieces of a puzzle fit.

The silence stretched between you and Wonwoo said nothing. And you were starting to feel how exposed you really felt.

A part of you wondered if Wonwoo suspected the reason why Mingyu and his ex broke up—the real reason. Mingyu had been cheated on. And he decided to keep this concealed from all of his friends out of shame.

You suspected because of the way Wonwoo looked at you—like you were a temporary fix. Like you were going to leave once you’ve had your fill. Like you were wandering aimlessly.

Maybe you weren’t just defending Mingyu. Maybe you were defending yourself too. Maybe Wonwoo saw this. 

Wonwoo straightened his back, his expression hard to read. He said nothing, and somehow that made it worse.

He turned around, leaving your table just as Mingyu appeared from the backdoor. He was wearing that charming smile on his face as he approached you with a happy gait.

Meanwhile, your heart was still thumping in your throat. But you forced a smile as he leaned over you, planting a hand on the table and using the other one to cup your face gently. “Hey, baby,” he mumbled sweetly.

“Hi, Gyu,” you sighed, your heart melting just as his lips touched yours.

“I’m off in five minutes,” he said, pressing gentle kisses on your face. “Just gotta take out the trash, then I’m all yours.”

“Romantic,” you giggled.

Mingyu smiled. “Wait here,” he whispered, trapping your lower lip in a feathery kiss. “I’ll come get you.”

You watched him walk away and disappear through the door again. Wonwoo followed him with his gaze, and then, as though he knew you were looking, your gazes connected again.

Your tummy twisted. You turned away, shyly hiding your face behind your laptop as you silently closed the blank document you had been pretending to be working on and shut your laptop off.

Some minutes later, Mingyu returned. He was wearing a hoodie now, his backpack hung snuggly on his shoulders.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, approaching your table. He looked like he had a sudden rush of energy, perhaps from knowing he was free from work.

You nodded, rising from the booth and taking your laptop bag with you.

Then something you weren’t expecting at all happened. Mingyu smiled, his hand reaching for yours. He laced his fingers with yours, making your heart jolt. Mingyu was unaware of your reaction—your eyes widening in surprise, your breath catching in your throat.

It wasn’t the first time he took your hand. But it made you feel anxious. 

You let him take you, leading you through the front door of the bar. You couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Wonwoo—who was absolutely aware of how you reacted to Mingyu lacing his hand with yours. He watched as you and Mingyu exited the bar, you felt his gaze on the back of your head as the door closed behind you.

“How was work?” Mingyu asked intently. “Could you get anything done?”

You huffed a laugh. “Nope,” you replied, popping out the p sound. “I couldn’t focus.”

“Oh, was it the loud noise? The bar could be the least ideal place to work.”

“No, it wasn’t that,” you said, looking down at your hand firmly laced with his. “I’m probably hitting a burnout.”

“I see,” he said, pouting a little as he gathered his thoughts. “Have you thought about doing graphic design? You know, the thing you really like.”

You frowned. “I can’t change careers like that.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “You’re your own boss. Maybe you could dedicate some time to getting yourself into graphic design, little by little before you do a full transition.”

You thought about it for a long second. It seemed curious to you that Mingyu had remembered how much you enjoyed talking about graphic design when you were younger. Whenever the conversation about college popped up in your friend group, you always mentioned it.

Even you had forgotten about your lost dream of getting the degree. You found translating documents easy, and quick. And once it started making money, you thought it was convenient.

“I think it’s a good idea,” you agreed. “Maybe not a full switch-up, like you say.”

“Yeah, and it case it doesn’t work… well you already have a thing for you, right?” he squeezed your hand.

You lifted your gaze, finding his light smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I got you, shorty,” he winked.

You laughed softly. Then you noticed that you were almost down the corner, and Mingyu seemed to notice too, because he stopped walking, forcing you to stop too.

“Your place or mine?” he asked.

Your heart dipped slightly. Mingyu had been avoiding talking about what happened the other day at the gym. And you had been too much of a coward to bring the subject up. 

“Yours is closest,” you shrugged, your tone off.

Mingyu noticed. “You don’t want to go to mine?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Why? Is it because of my roommate?”

You hesitated but nodded all the same.

“He’s not that bad,” he giggled. “Well, he does have a temper, but he leaves us alone.”

“It’s not that,” you replied quickly.

Mingyu paused, his mouth parting slightly when he realized. “Oh—” he giggled shyly.

“Stop,” you sighed a smile, bringing your free hand to pat his tummy lightly.

“You don’t want him hearing us?” he smiled, biting his bottom lip as his hand tugged you closer.

“Of course not,” you said, giggling with him.

“Don’t worry, sugar,” he said softly, his hand meeting your cheek. “I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Your insides twisted. “Has he heard us before?” you asked.

“No,” he said firmly. “We have this thing, if one of us is bringing someone over, we just crash late.”

That brought something to your mind. You nodded half-heartedly. “Oh, okay.”

“But let’s go to yours,” he decided.

“Okay, but before we start walking,” you said, tugging his hand with yours.

“Yes?” Mingyu raised his eyebrows.

“Could you please walk a little slower?” you pleaded, almost pouting.

Mingyu burst out laughing, cupping your nape before kissing your forehead fondly. “Yes, shorty, I can.”

As soon as you crossed your apartment door, Mingyu was all over you. He expertly grabbed you by the back of your thighs, lifting you to pin you against the wall.

You locked your arms around his neck, glancing up at his eyes before he closed the distance between his lips and yours. He kissed you softly at first, as though he were dying to kiss you tenderly, to taste your lips.

Your heart dipped. You knew that there was a pending conversation between you. But for a moment, you allowed yourself to enjoy another night of pleasure, pushing away your feelings, and your anxieties. You let yourself feel.

“Gyu,” you urged. “Take me to the bed.”

Without hesitation, he carried you to your bed. In seconds your back was hitting the mattress.

Mingyu took control, taking your clothes one by one. You noticed he was in no particular hurry because once he got you completely naked, he started taking his time kissing your body, humming softly against your skin.

“I love the way you smell,” he said softly, kissing your neck.

You brought a hand to stroke his hair. “Thank you,” you replied. “You smell nice too,” you confessed. And you wanted to tell him that you loved that the smell of his cologne lingered on your pillows for days, making you miss him more.

“Thank you,” he giggled softly, pausing to give you a look. “But you smell nicer.”

“Stop it,” you giggled too. But you grabbed his hoodie, taking it off for him.

You took his clothes off, sending him shy glances as you did so. He kept looking at you with a soft twinge of endearment, smiling when you struggled to get his jeans off.

Mingyu dipped his head, littering your chest with slow and wet kisses. Getting your heart to swell and race wildly when he took his time loving and worshipping your body. It was then that you noticed he was pressing kisses on every mole that he could find on your skin.

“Gyu,” you swallowed hard.

“Hm?” he hummed, glancing at your eyes. “Are you ready for me, baby?”

You nodded quickly.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

Mingyu parted your thighs gently as he leaned over your body, pressing his front to yours. You gasped, your gaze snapping to his when you felt his hard cock on your lower tummy.

Seeing your reaction made him smile softly. But he said nothing, continuing pleasuring your body as though his pleasure wasn’t important. He pressed one elbow on your pillow, just beside your head as his free hand made its way between your bodies.

Looking into your eyes, his lips parted slightly as his fingertips slid between your pussy lips. Using his pointer and ringer fingers, he gently nudged your entrance, wetting his fingers with your arousal right before he started rubbing slow circles against your clit.  

“Mingyu,” you stammered, your hands flying to hold onto him. “Please,” you swallowed hard, your body tensing with pleasure. “Fuck me.”

“Not yet,” he whispered. “I have to get you ready for me first, baby,” he said gently.

You were about to tell him to take you anyway. You liked the sting of his cock stretching your pussy. But his fingers slipped inside you, drawing out a lewd moan from you.

You blinked for a long second, enjoying the way he dragged his knuckles in and out of your walls, massaging them slowly, and so gently.

“Mmmn, look at this,” Mingyu drawled, pulling his fingers out of you to show you the wetness coating them, dripping from his fingertips to his knuckles, beginning to reach his palm.

“Please,” you whispered.

The corner of his lips curved. “What do you want, baby?” he purred, slipping his fingers inside you again, making you gasp.  “Do you want my cock?”

“Yes,” you mewled instantly, your head spinning slightly at the language he used. “Please, Gyu. Fuck me.”

Mingyu got on his knees, pulling his fingers out of you. You whined in protest, making him laugh. “Needy,” he clicked his tongue, but the look of endearment on his face made your heart skip.

Your thighs twitched with anticipation, looking at him as he stroked his cock languidly, using the hand that was wet with your arousal, smearing it all over himself. Mingyu noticed that you liked that, his lust-lidded eyes outlining your body before he positioned himself.

Your hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping yourself angled and ready for him as he guided his cock to your needy cunt. A moan spilled from your lips when you felt the bulbous head of his cock nudging at your entrance.

His dark eyes were lost in your body, entranced as he slipped his cock inside you, so very slowly. His mouth dropped open, his hands gripping your hips as he started thrusting his cock in with shallow motions.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped, tilting his head back slightly. “So tight.”

“Gyu,” you whispered, blinking away the tears that started to form in the corners of your eyes. “Please.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he replied in kind, clearly enjoying the way you were so needy for him. His gaze returned to yours, endearment showing in his lazy smile when he saw your tears of pleasure.

You removed one hand from your inner thigh, mind blank as you gripped his wrist. Mingyu pulled his cock out, leaving only his head in for a second before he pushed his length back inside you. You moaned loudly, not caring that it was the middle of the night, and the neighbors might take an annoyance at you.

Mingyu sighed in pleasure when he heard you, his eyebrows drawn in as he glanced down your body one more time. He gritted his teeth, muffling a moan as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy.

You removed your hand from his wrist, but Mingyu caught it first, lacing his fingers with yours. He did this almost too naturally—as though you were more than friends. As though you were two lovers, making love in the middle of the night.

It was overwhelming. A sob tore through you, the sound so soft and whiny that it was masked well by the pleasure you were feeling. Mingyu glanced at your face, taking your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly in between breaths of exhaustion.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah,” you replied, squeezing his hand with yours.

The features of his face relaxed. And you thought that he might’ve noticed something in your eyes. He leaned over your body, framing your head with his arms, closing the space between you.

Mingyu kept pushing his hips against yours, thrusting his cock deeper, slower, as though he wanted to delay his own orgasm—which you suspected that he did. He dipped his head, pressing his lips against you, kissing you tenderly.

“Hey,” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “Move with me, yeah?”

You grabbed his shoulders, nodding as you started rolling your hips at the same pace he did, grounding your feet on the bed for support.

The bed creaked, the headboard slamming against the wall but neither of you cared.

Mingyu searched your eyes, his mouth parting as he released a small moan. “Baby,” he called, noticing something in you.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Breathe.” He instructed gently, his hand brushing your hair back. “Breathe with me, okay?”

Then he took your hand from his shoulder, wrapping it in his as he took a deep breath in without moving his gaze away from your eyes. You followed the movement of his chest, drawing in a deep breath as he pushed inside you.

The pleasure came instantly to your body, overwhelming you. You let out a moan, your eyebrows knitting together.

“Breathe,” he mouthed, taking another deep breath with you.

“Mingyu,” you moaned sweetly, inching closer to your release. 

“I know—” he replied, squeezing your hand in his. “I know, baby.”

You didn’t need to tell him, just from the expression on your face he could tell that you were closer. You breathed with him again, releasing your breath at the same time pleasure bloomed inside you, from the pit of your tummy to the rest of your body.

You let out a long cry, cumming so hard that your eyes started to brim with tears. But you continued rolling your hips with him, breathing at the same time he did. Mingyu gasped, looking into your eyes as well as his hips slowed down slightly.

Mingyu pressed his forehead against yours, gasping into your mouth before he kissed you swiftly. “I’m cumming,” he whispered, and you nodded, moaning with him as he pushed his cum deep inside you with sloppy thrusts.

You were a mess, breathing heavily under him. But that wasn’t the reason you felt out of it.

You wanted to cry. You had never in your life made love so softly to someone, let alone someone who didn’t consider himself your boyfriend. 

Firmly pressed against your body, Mingyu brushed your hairline with his thumb, pressing soft kisses on your bottom lip, and the corner of your mouth.

“You’re okay?” he whispered without moving away from your body, his forehead still pressing against yours.

“I’m okay,” you replied in kind. “You?”

He smiled. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” He pushed himself from you, although he was still inside you. “Want me to start a shower for you?”

Your hand slipped from his, making your heart dip. “No, I—” You instinctively reached for his hand again, but he didn’t notice. “I want to stay in bed for a little while.”

Mingyu paused, tilting his head to one side slightly. “Sure you’re okay, baby? You seem out of it.”

You nodded. “Cuddle with me, please,” you mumbled, not caring how desperate you were sounding.

Mingyu followed without giving a second thought. He pulled out of you gently, tugging the bed covers to tuck you both in.

As soon as you were both under your bedsheets, he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers grazing the space between your shoulder blades. He looked at you for a long second, his gaze outlining every feature of your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

You smiled at him. “Thanks, Gyu,” you replied. Dropping your gaze to the bedsheets, you confessed: “You’re beautiful too.”

You heard him smile, and that was what drove you to look at him again. Mingyu closed the space between you, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You thought for a moment that he would kiss your lips, but instead, he pressed his lips against your forehead.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Gyu,” you whispered.

“Mm?” he hummed, kissing your cheek.

You closed your eyes, swallowing hard. His lips were on yours, kissing you slowly, deeply.

You brought a hand on his chest, trying to hold onto him for a second. “Can I tell you something?”

Mingyu stilled, looking in your eyes. “Of course,” he said softly.

You stared at your fingers on his chest, discovering that he had a tiny mole right below your ring finger.

“I never told you the real reason why I moved here,” you said quietly.

Mingyu didn’t say anything, but you could feel that there was a shift in the air.

“It wasn’t because I wanted a change of scenery, or because of work or whatever,” you let out a shaky breath. “I moved because I couldn’t stay at my other place.”

You glanced at his face quickly. He was still looking at you, waiting, listening.

“I was with someone. We broke up eight months ago.”

You avoided his gaze, you avoided doing something that would ruin the tiny bit of courage that you had gathered.

“We were together for years, even lived together. But no matter what, he never wanted more.” You blinked slowly, hating that saying this aloud was bringing a long-forgotten ache to your heart. “I waited for so long. I thought that if I just kept being there for him, supporting him and loving him, he would change his mind.”

You paused, your heart thudding painfully, ringing in your ears.

“But he told me he wasn’t ready. And that he probably never would be,” you took a breath and let it out slowly. “And when he left, I didn’t recognize myself. I had spent so much time waiting, molding myself for him, that I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

Mingyu exhaled and his hand stroked your back again, as if he knew you needed comfort. That encouraged you to look into his eyes again. It was a fleeting glance, but you sensed that he felt something for you.

“So I packed my things and moved here. I told myself that I wasn’t going to allow myself to get involved. Not ever again. Not like that,” you glanced up at him again, searching his eyes.

There he was. Watching you, softly, gently, welcoming.

“But then, you came.”

He remained silent, and you knew he wasn’t judging you—he was just listening and waiting. But something shone in his eyes.

“I know I’m not perfect. I have baggage,” you whispered, unable to raise your voice any higher. “But I’m not here to use you. I didn’t expect to care so much about you...”

You took one final deep breath, trying to muster another shred of courage.

“But I do. I care about you.”

You didn’t expect him to say anything. But you still waited, deciding that, whatever happened, you were ready for it.

☆ author's note: hello!

i uh, eeeh have nothing to say. i don't know what came over me. i just had the impulse to write another chapter! heh

i want to use this author's note to express my gratitude toward every single one of you that commented, reblogged, and liked the previous chapter. my heart is so happy to see so many of you just engaging.

thank you so much for reading!! tell me what you guys think 🥺🩵

toodles

☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART IV! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

he watches you cook breakfast for him. sits on the counter just keeping his eyes trained on you. but he also insists on cooking something for you, as well.

he’ll latch himself onto you from behind, walking around the room attached to your back until you’re complaining and threatening to kick him. and even then, he’ll drop his head to your shoulder and whine. “but i just wanna be close to you.”

he’ll do the laundry and wear your clean underwear on his head as a bandana.

he reach the things that are too high for you. you tell him you could have gotten it yourself and he’d put it back, further away, and amusedly watch you struggle to get it.

he bends with his hands on his knees to be eye level with you. it makes you flustered every time.

he flicks your forehead when you’re being annoying. you always hold the inflicted area and pout, to which he immediately kisses away to make up for it.

he threatens to take you over his knees more often than he actually does.

he uses both thumbs to swipe away the tears under your eyes after you’ve both had an argument. always whispers “i’m sorry, i love you,” repeatedly to reassure you.

he likes to wolf whistle at you, pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, when he sees you wearing his favorite shorts you own. the ones that nicely accentuates your ass.

he likes to mix it up when kissing. the rhythm can go from quick, urgent and powerful to slow, soft, and meaningful then very wet and sloppy.

he breathlessly mutters “fuck me” as he drinks in the image of you, mind reeling with places he wants to touch, places he wants to mark up.

he hits his head on the headboard because he’s just so excited that you’re about to give him the most disrespectful, toe curling, sheet gripping, back arching, earth shattering, pussy, to the point where the tip of his cock does butterfly strokes in your womb.

he splays his fingers against your lower tummy, pressing slightly. you gasp and hold his wrist there. “you feel me right here,” he grunts.

he gets emotional mid-fuck and buries his face in your neck, whimpering out soft moans and broken “i love you’s.”

he’s always so apologetic during make up sex, whispering “please, please, please” continuously as he pushes himself deeper into you. you’re unsure if he’s begging for forgiveness or release. either way, you kiss his head to tell him it’s okay.

he sleepily runs his fingers through your sweaty post-sex hair, eyes half lidded and heavy.

It was a saturday night, and instead of your usual routine of laying around your room watching dramas and eating junk food, your friends dragged you to a club. You didn’t hate clubbing, it’s just the idea of too many people pressed up against each other in one place wasn’t very appealing to you.

But tonight you had a slight change of heart. You put on a skin tight dress that showed off all the right places, and threw on a pair of heels to match. A bit of light makeup and a few accessories tied the look together, and soon your friends were at your front door to pick you up for the night ahead. 

When you all arrived, the club was packed with the music so loud that you could feel the bass in your chest. There was a slight aroma of weed and flavored hooka coming from the vip sections, and flashing lights that should’ve come with an epilepsy warning. But of course it didn’t take long for your friends to grab you and drag you to the bar to get a drink before you could even think about turning around and leaving. 

One round of shots turned into three, and one drink turned into two and a half, as you were still working on the other half while you were on the dance floor. The liquor got you loosened up, but it didn’t get you any further than tipsy considering you could down 7 drinks and still walk in a straight line. But the drinks did have you bumping and grinding against your friends on the dance floor, drink still in hand. 

After a few minutes of dancing with your eyes closed, taking in every beat and melody, you felt a figure on your backside and eventually felt a hand rest on your waist. They were too tall to be one of your girl friends so who could-

“Now who managed to drag you out of the house on a saturday night and who let you out looking this good hm?”

Hearing the voice in your ear made you calm down a bit as you threw your head back and rested it against the person’s chest, smiled, and locked eyes with them. 

“Hi Cheollll” you sang out just loud enough for him to hear over the music. You and Seungcheol had a very… complicated relationship to say the least. You had hooked up and went on a few dates here and there but never really talked about what it was, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. He gave you whatever you were looking for in the moment and that’s all you really wanted. 

You both danced against each other for a while; rather, you danced against him while both of his hands followed the rhythm of you waist and he left the occasional kiss on your neck. You could feel he was turned on as he pressed against you.

Eventually, he turned you around to face him and took your now empty drink out of your hand. “Can we get another drink cheolie?” You asked with big brown eyes that no one could say no to. Well except Seungcheol apparently because he didn’t budge. 

“No ma’am, I think you’ve had enough tonight” Cheol started off before smirking and leaning towards your ear. “Plus I want you to be sober enough to remember what we do later okay?”

Now whether you were blushing because of the liquor or the image of what could possibly happen later, you weren’t sure. but you were sure that the smell of whiskey on Cheol’s breath mixed with the scent of his cologne was a dangerous combination for you. Your legs were getting weak and he needed to carry you to his bed immediately. 

“You wanna tell your friends I’m taking you home or should I baby?” 

You could text them later.

****

Before you knew it, Cheol was grabbing your wrist and leading you to the back door of the club. He always parked his car out back with the employees since he was cool with the owners, and did not want to take the chance of his car getting stolen or broken into. 

On your way out, you passed by the bar and a vip section where you happened to see your friends flirting with some guys, too distracted to see you sneaking out- or blatantly leaving - with the guy they hated so much. 

Once you reached the door, a brisk breeze hit your face, reminding you that it really wasn’t spring time yet. But because you chose to be cute and not smart, your jacket was still in your friend’s car, leaving you to shiver at the temperature. Cheol took notice of this and took his jacket off of his shoulders and placed it on your own. Was it light? Yes, but it was better than nothing. 

“Oh uh. Thanks.” You mumbled quietly, hoping you didn’t get caught eyeing the way his t-shirt complimented his muscles. Did he not understand you were insane??

“Of course princess.” Cheol replied, putting emphasis on his last word. You weren’t big on pet names, but something about the way he called you princess made you blush every time. 

Suddenly yall came to a stop in front of a black car, a mercedes to be exact. Weird, I thought he had a white ca- 

“Like the new wheels? Got her last week” Cheol said smugly when he noticed you looking at the unfamiliar car. You simply nodded and said it matched his style: expensive and arrogant. 

He chuckled and pulled you closer to him by your waist, that cologne intoxicating the way it filled your nostrils. The last thing you were expecting was for this man to pick you up and sit you on the trunk of the car. 

“Seungcheol! Someone could see us let’s just go to your place.” You protested although you weren’t completely against the idea of fucking him in or on the car. What? You had questionable morals. 

“We will in due time baby,” Cheol started before leaving a kiss on your temple. “Think of this as an appetizer before the main course, okay?” You couldn’t get out another protest before his lips were on yours. Slightly chapped per usual, but god they felt like heaven. He hummed into the kiss while your tongues clashed with each other, the taste of peach liquor on your breath turning him on even more. His hands starting to travel up the sides of your thighs as you kept going.

He had your body so hot that you almost forgot about it being 40 degrees outside until the wind started blowing again. You shivered slightly, breaking from the kiss and lowering your head in embarrassment. “Can we go to your place now Cheolie..?” He complied and helped you off the car after another quick kiss, followed by him opening the passenger door for you. 

****

Once you got to Cheol’s house, he parked and walked to your side of the car where he scolded you for opening your door yourself. You insisted it wasn’t a big deal, to which he picked you up bridal style and carried you into his house. Feeling your cheeks get hot again, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

You finally made it to the bedroom after what seemed like an eternity, Cheol sitting you down on his King sized bed before turning to close and lock his door. He walked back over, looking you up and down before getting on his knees in front of you. 

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are? Or how good you look wearing my clothes?” He inquired while helping you get your heels off. You had completely forgot about the jacket, but at this point, you just wanted him to stop being a tease and take it off of you. “Maybe once or five times…” you replied back, eyes watching his every move. 

“Only five? I gotta do better then huh gorgeous?” He said before leaving kisses up your legs, starting at your ankles. You threw your head back slightly and Cheol watched your reactions through his eyelashes. “Seungcheol can you stop being a tease for christ sake” you whined. 

He climbed on top of you, sliding his jacket off your shoulders. 

“Want me to fuck you that bad?”

Well. Yes! “Duh.”

“Then take your dress off”

“Only if you take your pants off”

Cheol smirked and stood back up, undoing his belt. “Yes ma’am”

One thing led to another, and your clothes were in a pile on the floor, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear. You couldn’t help but stare at Seungcheol’s body, I mean you had seen it multiple times but it always surprised you how defined and prominent his muscles were. And no matter how many times you ended up in this scenario with him, you always got shy and tried to cover up. 

He climbed onto the bed next to you, and pulled you into his lap with a swift action. He had you in a position where you were straddling him, your body getting accustomed a bit too quickly. “Why are you acting like I haven’t seen your body a million times over princess?” Cheol placed a kiss on your shoulder, his hand caressing the small of your back. “That’s exactly why… You probably know my body better than I do at this point.” You replied in a voice that was hardly above a whisper. 

His fingers toyed with the strap of your bra before placing them under your chin, lifting your head just enough for you to make eye contact with him. God his eyes were dangerous. “How about we prove that theory then, huh princess?” Cheol said before crashing his lips into yours. Just like before, you could still taste the liquor on his breath, his tongue going against your bottom lip to ask for just a bit more from you. You obliged and parted your lips just enough for Cheol to slip his tongue in. 

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, as one was tugging at the bottom part of his hair, the other holding on to his shoulder to keep your balance while you would grind against him, arousal growing with every movement. Coming up for air, Cheol broke away from the kiss to leave kisses and small bite marks on your chest. 

“Cheol you.. you know how I am about hickeys…” you managed out, head in the clouds, dizzy with pleasure. But he wasn’t letting up. “I know baby. That’s why they’re in places only we’ll know about.” He replied while undoing the last hook of your bra, sliding the garment off your body. You hadn’t even realized he was taking it off until you felt the material loosen around you. 

Not even a second after your bra was taken off, Cheol wrapped his mouth around one of your breasts, one of his hands massaging the other. You threw your head back in pleasure and moaned his name, the grip you had on his hair getting a bit tighter. You both continued to move your hips against each other, turning you on even further and wishing that the fabric separating the two of you would disappear. 

Cheol switched from one breast to the other, giving both equal amounts of attention. Eventually he worked his way back up towards your collarbone and neck, leaving kisses all over and nibbling on your ear. “C-cheolie..” you whined in response to his actions. He was driving you crazy and you wanted more than what he was offering. “I know princess, I know..” He trailed off as his hands went between the two of you, fingers meeting your most sensitive spot, rubbing aggravating slow circles on your clit through the fabric of your panties. 

Just as you were about to beg for more, cheol moved your panties to the side and slipped two fingers inside of you, stretching you out for what was to come. He had you falling apart, a whimpering mess on top of him as he fingered you and kissed more over your chest and neck areas. You were already starting to feel your first orgasm of the night approaching, that familiar knot building up in your stomach. “I- I can’t anymore cheol I’m so- so close” You breathed out, reaching down to rub your clit to help you get there faster. “If you’re close then cum for me baby” Cheol said in your ear, speeding up his hand movements. 

His voice was all it took to send you over the edge. You tightened around his fingers before your orgasm washed over you, moaning cheol’s name way louder than you had intended and collapsing onto his chest when it was all said and done. “You did so good for me baby” He said while kissing you on your head. He rubbed your back to help you come back to reality, asking if you wanted to stop or keep going once you were responsive. 

“We can keep going. You haven’t even gotten anything yet-” You started before Cheol cut you off with another kiss. “You know I only care about you baby, I can take care of myself later.” You shrugged in return, arms wrapped around Cheol’s neck. Leaning into his ear, you spoke in a low voice, “But I wanna make you feel good too.” Followed by you kissing on his neck. 

Cheol let out a guttural moan, his head falling against the headboard behind him. His hands stayed on your hips for a short period of time, eventually sliding down and gripping your ass before abruptly straightening up to change your positions. Before you could blink properly, Cheol had you on your stomach, causing you to yelp out of shock. Lifting your ass up so you were on all fours. 

You could feel him adjusting behind you, pulling his boxers just below his dick, and pulling your panties to the side; too lazy to take them off. “Condom?” He asked with a dumbass confused look on his face. “When have we ever used one seungcheol.” You replied, annoyance heavy in your tone. He shrugged and pointed out he was just making sure before teasingly placing his tip right at your entrance. And he did it over and over again until you finally snapped. 

“Christ Seungcheol can you just-” You started but were cut off by him finally sliding in. Both of you let out synchronized moans, your grip on the sheets tightening, while cheol gripped your hair to make you look up at the mirror that was conveniently placed in front of the bed. “Look at you taking me so well princess” His pace picking up with every other word. 

Cheol wasn’t exactly big, but he knew exactly what to do to make you lose your mind. Between the angles, hair tugging, and shit talking (and some praising here and there), he had you damn near crying and screaming out broken mantras of cuss words and his name, the occasional whiny “please” getting thrown in there as well. Eventually you felt yourself getting close to the edge, the pleading getting even worse than before.

“God Cheolie please i’m so close” You whined, not sure how much longer you could last. Snaking his hand underneath you, Cheol went back to rubbing your clit, keeping his same pace. “Cmon baby, what’s stopping you?” He taunted in your ear before he twitched inside you. he was close but refused to cum before you did. “I’m sorry baby but I wanna see your face when you cum..” and just like that, Cheol flipped you so you were on your back. Rolling your eyes, you responded “I thought that’s what the mirror was for.” 

“Something like that but it’s better to see it up close” He smirked as his hips started back up. it was like he hadn’t skipped a beat, your orgasm still so close that you could almost taste it. Cheol fucked into you with one of your legs over his shoulder, occasionally dipping down to kiss on your neck. “Holy fuuck Seungcheol” You moaned out. You had about 30 seconds left in you before you started seeing stars, nails digging into any part of his skin that you could find. Cheol groaned at the sensation getting closer to the edge as time went on. “Want me to-” He couldn’t even finish his question before you cut him off with an immediate yes. 

“Right there oh my g-” Your sentence was cut short by your second orgasm of the night hitting you like a truck. The heat flowed from your spine to the tips of your fingers, back arching off of the bed from the pleasure. Cheol fucked you through your high, his orgasm following shortly after, almost making him go limp from how aggressive it was. He eventually pulled out and laid next to you, kissing your temple and making sure you were okay as he pulled you into his arms. “You feeling ok princess?”

“I feel sweaty, weak and partially sore” To be fair it had been a month since your last hook up. Cheol stood up, pulled up his boxers and picked you up to carry you to the bathroom without another word. 

“All im hearing is round two in the shower!”

“I cannot stand you.”

When you woke up, the sun was coming through slits between the black curtains in the master bedroom, a slight breeze coming from the window furthest from the bed. Your body was sore and you could only imagine how many hickeys were left on your body; more specifically how many did Cheol forget were in noticeable places. They would serve as simple reminders of last night, how aggressive he could be at times, following up with a soft side right after. So it was no surprise when you were given a massage and coddled to sleep by Cheol after such a rough time. The thought of it made you blush, shaking your head to brush off the images replaying.

Adjusting a bit in the bed, you reached over to the nightstand to grab your phone; at least you tried to before a certain someone snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Tryna fuck and roll on me hm?” He asked while placing a light peck on your shoulder. 

Giggling at Cheol’s clinginess, you turned to face him while he kept his grip on your waist. “To be fair, I didn’t exactly plan on staying the night sir. And don’t worry, I was just checking my phone.” It was almost guaranteed that your friends had texted and called trying to figure out where you were and if you were ok. I mean it wasn’t abnormal for you to leave before they did, but you usually left some type of message for them. Somebody must’ve distracted you last night…

“You weren’t gonna stay?? But I was going to make breakfast for us!” Cheol responded with a fake pout. If you didn’t vividly remember last night, his face would’ve made you think he was a little angel. You knew better though. “Woah woah. Decent sex and free food? Why are you still laying here shoo go cook bro.”

“Just decent!?” He replied, holding an offended hand to his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic he was, especially since you said it just to get under his skin. But before you knew it, Cheol was on top of you. The sight looking all too familiar, you stopped laughing and hit his shoulder. “Go cook, I’m hungry” 

“Tell me it was better than decent and I’ll make you a breakfast for a queen”

Oh it was. But you weren’t telling him that. 

“Mmmm it was aight” you replied, holding back your laugh. It was killing you, but you had to play with him justttt a little bit.

Cheol slightly shrugged and adjusted himself above you. “Then I’ll remind you how much noise you were making last night. Breakfast will come after you do”

Xaden looks past his cousin to Garrick. “I just need Professor Tavis.”

I can’t help but gape at the title given to my boyfriend. The title I am just now hearing for the first time. My head snaps up to gawk at him along with the rest of my squad. He winces, but slides by me on the steps and follows after Xaden without looking back. 

All of my friend’s eyes turn away from the men as they disappear and focus on me instead. 

“Professor?” Bodhi frowns. “Since when?”

I meet his round brown eyes and shrug my shoulders, turning back to face the map on the table. Apparently, I’m the only one who remembers that we’re trying to plan out our flight path. The rest of the group is murmuring around me now, gossiping about Professor Tavis. I try my best not to feel scuffed at the fact that I’m learning about my boyfriend’s new job along with the rest of my squad. Except, apparently, not all of them were so oblivious.

“He told me about it over breakfast. They just asked him to accept this morning,” Imogen says, and I straighten in my seat. She’s always been interested in my boyfriend, which is enough to make me jealous as is. Him confiding in her about his new status before telling me feels like a punch in the gut. Then, she piles on top of that feeling. “He didn’t tell you? That’s weird.”

The hair on my skin raises uncomfortably under my leathers. I swallow hard. 

“Shut up, Imogen.” Ridoc slaps her on the shoulder with the back of his hand.

“Let’s refocus,” Rhiannon supplies, drawing her finger from Basgiath to one of the isles on the map. I can’t make out which one it is through the unshed tears that are stinging in my eyes. “This route could work.”

The group argues again, all speaking over one another as they shove their fingers onto the paper and suggest their own ideas. My mind races as I sit amongst them, drifting through my recent memories with Garrick in an attempt to recall any reason why he’d have withheld this from me, but I come up with nothing. A small sigh leaves my mouth as I continue to stir over the pit in my stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” Bodhi asks, looking up from the map.

“Nothing! I’m just tired.” I rub my eyes and blink hard, trying to force myself back into the moment to help my squadmates formulate the plan. Ridoc nods from next to me, leaning his head onto my shoulder with a dramatic yawn. 

“Me too. Can we break for nap time?” He smiles cheekily at our friends. Every single one of them rolls their eyes at his antics, but Rhiannon relents. 

“Yeah. We can come back after dinner and look at it with fresh eyes,” she says, folding the map up on the table and tucking it into her bag. We’d been here over an hour already. “I’m gonna head to the training room if anyone wants to spar.”

Violet, Sawyer, Aaric, and Sloane all break off with her. The rest of the group goes their own ways, and Ridoc stays with me as we head toward the dorm wing of the castle. His footsteps are wider than mine, his long legs guiding him easily down the corridor. 

“Never took you for a teacher’s pet,” he teases, looking down at me with a wide grin that shows all his teeth. I laugh, shaking my head. 

“Didn’t know I was one. Gods, I can’t believe he would tell Imogen before me. I mean Xaden, I get, but Cardulo? What in Malek’s name did I do to deserve that blow?” I let myself rant to him. Nobody else is in the hallway around us. There’s no reason to hide my disdain for my situation when I already know that he’s tuned into my agitation anyway. 

“I wanted to punch her in the mouth!” He shouts, throwing his hands up. “I mean if you’re going to be a homewrecker, at least have some tact about it.”

My heart twists and pounds in my chest. Homewrecker. The humor of the situation is abruptly drained from my body. My pulse quickens quickly, and my jacket suddenly fits too snugly. I grab his wrist and stop walking, turning to face him with hot cheeks. 

“You don’t really think…” My voice trails off, not wanting to think about the possibility of Garrick and Imogen having any sort of secret relationship. 

“No, no, gods, no,” he hurries out, quickly taking a step toward me and wrapping me into a tight hug. He speaks softly into my hair. “I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. You know that Garrick loves you more than anything. It’s pathetic and weird and I’m so jealous of it. He’d never do that to you. Gods know Imogen has tried, though.”

I relax a little at that, but I can’t help the sob that rips through my chest. The past hour has been utterly overwhelming, and it feels like I can’t breathe through the stress. Ridoc holds me tight, running a hand up and down my arm as I wet his leathers with my tears. 

It’s suddenly too hot. I fumble with the zipper of my jacket, trying desperately to get it off of my body as anxiety surges. Ridoc replaces my hands with his on the zipper, then quickly unbuttons the collar and slides my jacket off of my shoulders. He tucks it under his arm and takes a step back. My chest aches with the force of my sobs. After a minute passes and I show no signs of stopping, he sweeps my legs off of the ground and carries me bridal style toward the dorm hall. 

My face stays buried in his shoulder the entire way, uncontrollably wailing. I try wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my undershirt, but it’s no use. The floodgates have opened and the tears just keep coming. It’s a panic attack.

“It’s okay, we’re almost to your room,” he says sweetly, pushing open a set of double doors with his hip. He keeps walking. “Deep breaths. Almost there.”

“What the hell happened?” A familiar voice echoes through the hallway, and a new set of tears rises behind my eyes, spilling over quickly as I choke out a sob. Ridoc stiffens beneath me as I dig my fingers into him, holding myself close to him. 

The anxiety that’s running through my blood isn’t just about the thought of being cheated on, because I know deep down that Garrick would never do that to me. It’s just overwhelming to have Imogen’s snarky comment on top of the stress of planning our trip to the isles, and keeping Xaden’s secret safe from the others. It’s too much, and it’s all weighing on me now.

Ridoc’s steps slow, and he bends over at the waist, setting me back on my feet gently. I release my grip on him only after he places a hand on my upper back. Through my tears, I first see the wetness running down his leather jacket, racing from the collar down to his stomach. Then, I look away from him and see Garrick towering over us, right next to my door. 

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything.” Ridoc moves a gentle hand to the back of my head before turning and shoving my jacket into Garrick’s chest, matching his mean scowl with one of his own. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m the one who brought her here, Professor.”

“Don’t start, Gamlyn,” he bites back. His knuckles are white where he’s holding my jacket.

“I’d watch your fucking mouth if I were you. It seems to be getting you in trouble a lot recently.” He crosses the hallway and steps into his room, slamming the door shut loudly behind him. Garrick’s lips are pressed together tightly, chest heaving with angry breaths. His eyes trail away from our friend and land back on me, softening as he rests a calloused palm on my wet cheek and tilts my chin up to face him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His tone is pleading, and hot tears keep falling down my face as I stare into his hazel eyes and search for my answers. If he was cheating on me, would I see it in his revealing eyes? I don’t notice anything different. When I look into him, I still see only my Garrick. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

He opens my door with one hand, using the other to urge me in front of him. He guides me all the way to the edge of my bed and sets my leathers next to me as I take a seat there. His tall form shrinks to my height as he kneels in front of me, placing his hands on my hips. 

“Sweetheart, please talk to me,” he begs, squeezing my skin. 

“I’m just a little overwhelmed.” I drag my cold palms over my face to wipe away the drying tears and take a deep breath, willing them to stop falling. “Everyone was asking me questions about you becoming a professor, and I didn’t know anything about it, you never told me. Then Imogen starts answering all of them, and I just-- I don’t know. It really upset me, I think, to have her know more about what’s going on with you than I do. Then when we were walking back here, I started thinking that maybe there’s a reason you would tell her before telling me, and I just…”

Garrick flinches in front of me and moves his hands to cup my jaw. His hazel eyes burn into my skin and force me to meet his gaze. I see his lips parted in shock and a deep furrow between his thick brows. He opens his mouth as if to start talking, but hesitates, swallowing hard. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” he admits, running a thumb to catch a stray tear in the corner of my eye. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I never ever meant to make you think that I was going behind your back. I promise you, with all of my heart, that you are the only person I’ve wanted to tell all day.”

“Why didn’t you?” My voice breaks, and I gnaw on the skin of my bottom lip. 

“I didn’t tell Imogen, first of all-- Xaden did. While we were eating breakfast, which was right after I’d gotten back from the meeting where they told me about the job offer.” He grasps my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to my skin. I sigh, letting my free hand brush the hair above his ear. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. That’s just what she told everyone,” I apologize, and he shakes his head quickly. 

“Don’t apologize, I don’t blame you at all,” he says sincerely. “I’m sorry that you heard it from someone else. I’ve been wanting to tell you all day, but you weren’t at breakfast, and then I got pulled into another meeting to discuss lesson plans, and then by the time I got out, everyone was working on the flight paths with you. I wanted to be able to sit down and have a discussion with you about it in private without everyone listening, and then fucking Riorson ruined that. I should’ve just asked you to come talk with me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that until it was too late.”

I stare at the man in front of me, watching his chest rise and fall with slow breaths. A sweet smile graces his full lips as I hiccup, finally taking in my first full breath all day. His shaggy hair falls into his face as he bends over. I watch as his strong hands delicately untie my boots before sliding them off of my feet one at a time. It feels like I’ve been bathed in a pool of relief and his words are the water that cradles me.

“Come here,” I swing my legs onto the bed and pat the spot next to me. He removes his own shoes and lays in the empty spot, wrapping an arm around my body and tugging me into his side. Our eyes meet where we lay, and I press a kiss to his lips. My body melts into the taste of him, but I relent, pulling away. He groans in disapproval. 

“Why?” He whines. I giggle, feeling at ease here in his arms. He smirks down at me and leans in for another kiss, but I put my finger to his lips instead. 

“I want to hear about this job!” I prop myself up on my elbows, laying on my stomach as he narrows his eyes at me in disdain. Looking at the man in front of me, I wonder how I ever got myself so worked up. There’s nothing but concentrated love in his eyes right now, and it’s all for me.

“Later. Come kiss me right now, I’ve missed you.” He sits up, grasping my cheek and bringing his mouth to mine. I sigh into the kiss and he takes advantage, slipping his tongue through my parted lips. My hand on his chest pushes him back against the mattress, not breaking the kiss as I follow him down. 

We’re thinking the same thing, his fingers grabbing my hips to lift me onto his lap, but I’m already lifting my leg to straddle him. He pulls away from the kiss and attaches his lips to my jaw. I can feel his smile against my skin.

“Good, sweetheart,” he praises, “you know just what I need.”

I settle onto him, my thighs clenching either side of his hips. He uses his hold on my waist to push my body down harder onto him, a groan rising in the back of his throat as he rubs me over his clothed dick. Gripping me roughly, he drags me back and forth over and over. I press sloppy kisses up his neck and along his jaw, leaving one just below his ear before lightly grazing my teeth over his earlobe. 

Every part of him is solid beneath me. Solid arms, solid chest, solid stomach, and a solid dick working me just right. Garrick Tavis drives me crazy.

“I need you,” he says, stopping his movements and turning to stare into my eyes. His pupils are blown, revealing only the faintest sliver of hazel around them. I kiss him softly. Garrick has always been a tease. I appreciate getting to return the favor sometimes, and the perfect idea has presented itself. I kiss him again and he groans, bucking his hips up. “I need you now, sweetheart.”

“What do you need from me, Professor Tavis?” I fiend innocence, voice soft and low, looking at him with wide eyes that I’m certain are just as lust-blown as his. Garrick’s lips part and the next kiss he drags from my lips is feverish. His hands are gripping at my shirt, tearing it off of my body with no regard and discarding it to the floor carelessly. 

He grips my ass roughly, and I squeal as I’m suddenly lifted off of his lap and flipped onto my back, staring up at my boyfriend as he unzips his jacket and slides out of it easily. I sit up to help him with his shirt, but he pushes me back down.

“I’m a professor and you’re a cadet, our relationship is strictly off limits.” He slides his shirt over his head, and my pulse stutters. I reach a hand out to feel his packed muscle, trailing my fingers down the patch of hair that starts at his navel and dips below his waistband. He inhales sharply.

“Off limits?” I don’t look at him, instead I work on unfastening the belt around his waist. My gaze drifts below my hands, and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth at the sight of the bulge straining against his pants. 

“Strictly. So I need you to be really quiet for me, sweetheart.” He rakes his hand through my hair, fisting it gently at the base of my neck and pulling so that I meet his eyes. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Professor Tavis.” I nod quickly. He removes my hands from his crotch and steps off the bed. I frown, rolling to protest, but he’s quick to shut me up. 

“Take your pants off.” He’s already stepping out of his. “I can’t wait any longer.”

I don’t question him, the angry red tip of his stiff cock saying enough to prove that he’s being honest. My bottoms slide off quickly. I shove my panties off with them, baring myself to the desperate man in front of me.

“Bra.” Garrick’s voice is tight. He’s fisting himself, but not pumping at all. He’s waiting for me to follow his instructions. I unhook my bra and shrug it off. He hums in appraisal, bringing his eyes to my bare chest. I revel in the way his eyebrows knit together, like he’s physically pained by my beauty. This is what it felt like to be loved. 

“Professor Tavis?” I stand up from the bed, walking toward him slowly. He inhales sharply as I pause in front of him, nearly pressing my skin to his. “What should I do next?”

“Get on your knees, sweetheart.” He smoothes the hair at the top of my head as he commands me so sweetly. Seeing him like this, so affected by me, is driving me crazy. 

I lower myself to my knees in front of him, wetting my lips as I become eye level with his dick. Pre-cum is already leaking from the tip, and I open my mouth to lap it up, but he cradles my face and stops me gently. My eyes meet his as he towers above me, shaking his head softly. 

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want you to put your hand between your legs.” My breath catches in my throat in surprise. We’re both so desperate, and he’s dragging this out for so long, but I can’t find it in myself to argue with him as his cock twitches when I lower my hand down my stomach and dip it between my legs. The moan that tumbles from my lips is immediate. Garrick’s foreplay made my clit swell, and it’s the most sensitive that I’ve felt as I begin to stroke myself with my fingers. Letting the noises of pleasure escape as I start grinding with my hips is uncontrollable. 

“Professor Tavis,” I moan loudly as my head falls back. “Please fuck me. Please make me cum.”

I’m shocked when one strong arm wraps around my waist and hoists me up, but I don’t hesitate to wrap my legs around his waist. All plans of sucking him off are abandoned. He holds me tightly to him, molding his mouth to mine so fiercely that our teeth bump. The head of his cock teases my entrance and I gasp at the sensation. It takes him only two steps to reach the bed, where he pulls his mouth away from mine and lays me out on my stomach. The loss of contact makes me whimper.

“You’ve gotta be quiet for me,” he coos. His rough hands are a sharp contrast to his saccharine voice as he lifts my ass into the air and kneads it. I groan, jutting my hips back, and he tsks. “What’d I say? Quiet for me baby. Don’t make me tell you again. Can you do that for me? Can you shut that pretty mouth while I fuck you?”

The moan that leaves my lips is unstoppable, and he laughs darkly behind me before pulling my hips back. My cheeks flush at his laugh. 

“I want to be good for you, Professor. Please let me try.” He inhales sharply and then aligns his tip at my entrance. I push my hips back slowly, and he’s the one who can’t keep to himself this time. 

“Oh, fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, grabbing my ass and pushing himself further into me. I gasp as he bottoms out inside of me, feeling overwhelmingly full. 

He leans down over me, leaving a trail of kisses up my spine. His lips pause at my neck, and he bites me softly. 

“You’re such a good girl for me. So fucking good. Thank you, sweetheart.” He straightens his spine and pulls his hips back so far that the tip of his dick is barely inside of me, before he slams into me. I whine, my walls stretched out by his thick cock, but he only pulls out again, leaving me to wait before he rams into me another time, cursing as he finds a steady pace. His cock is moving at the perfect speed. I moan as he hits a sweet spot, and I feel him focus as he hits it again, and again, and again. 

I cry out. “Oh gods. Just like that. Right there.”

He keeps his thrusts perfect and steady, pushing me closer to my edge. Once his fingers wrap around my front and find my swollen clit, I let out a shaky breath. He continues his punishing pace as his finger circles my clit once, then twice, and it’s the perfect combination. I’m shattering around him immediately, my legs shaking. 

“Professor Tavis!” Waves of pleasure ripple through me, my orgasm prolonged by him chasing his own now, his dick pushing into me roughly. I’m still squeezing him, wetness dripping down my legs as he hits the perfect spot. “Fuck!”

“Fuck, I love you so much, sweetheart,” he moans, pace quickening before he stills. I tighten at the feeling of his cock twitching inside of me, filling me up with his release. He exhales deeply, fanning my spine with hot air. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking dream.”

He places a firm hand on my ass as he starts to pull his dick out, but hisses with the motion, and then pushes himself back inside. I turn my head to look back at him, watching as he does it again, backing himself out almost all of the way and then sliding back in. His eyes are fixed on the point where he’s entering, watching with deep breaths as he repeats it one more time.

“Sweetheart, you feel so fucking good. I don’t want to leave.” His voice is strained with pleasure, gaze trailing from where I’m wrapped around him up to my ass, then my back, and then he meets my face. The fire in his eyes is enough to melt me.

“So don’t. Stay inside and come lay with me,” I suggest, hoping that he does just that. He smirks and lowers himself onto the bed with me, holding me close to keep himself inside as he adjusts us so that we’re spooning now. I lay my head on his arm and sigh contentedly. 

Ever since I’d laid eyes on Liam I had been attracted to him. He was easily one of the most attractive riders in the quadrant in my opinion. And I knew a lot of other girls thought that with how they looked at him. Especially in gym or challenges. The way he moved and handled himself, it was like an art form. An art form I’m sure translated to his skills in bed. My room was just up from his, and at least once or twice a week I would catch a girl sneaking out or in. Usually the same girls, but occasionally I would see someone different.

But I had never dare hinted I wanted to see what it was like. I didn’t want to risk the friendship we had. Liam and I had hit it off almost immediately after I very nearly kicked his butt in the first day of challenges when we had been paired up. He eventually got the better of me and won. But after he pulled me up from the mat and introduced himself, we’d been close friends since. But now it felt like we were at a turning point in our friendship after my comment.

“One time! It’s happened one time, Rhi!” Violet says loudly as I join my squad and take my place next to Rhiannon.

*“Right. And what would you call that whole thing with Tynan?” Rhiannon asks in a sassy tone that nearly has me laughing.

”Threshing.” Violet says in a way to try shrug it off.*

*“And what about Barlowe’s constant threats?” I ask as I lean around Rhiannon with a smirk on my face. Liam shakes his head at me, knowing I’m just fuelling the fire now.

”They’re just threats. The only time I’ve actually been targeted was at night, and it’s not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.”*

*He pauses his wood carving as he shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, I’m not opposed-”

”Don’t even start.” Violet whips her head towards Liam. “You are a shameless flirt.”

His usually cocky grin spreads across his face. “Thank you.”*

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Rhiannon leans back in her chair and laughs. “Don’t mind her, she’s just sexually frustrated. Makes a girl crabby.” Adds as she starts writing in her book.

“That has nothing to do with it.” Violet mutters.

“And yet I don’t hear you denying it.” Rhiannon adds with a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry I don’t make the cut.” Liam says teasingly.

“Maybe not for her.” I add a little too flirtatiously, causing Liam’s eyes to snap to me as I sink back into my chair trying to hide behind Rhiannon as my cheeks flush bright red. Shit.

I yet again felt his eyes on me as I walked into the dining hall. As my eyes scan the hall I find him sitting with Xaden, Garrick and Bodhi. All of whom are looking at me then back at Liam before laughing at him. Were they talking about me? Surely not. I tear my gaze from them and grab some food for dinner before walking over to Imogen and Rhiannon who were the only ones in our squad at our usual table. Both of them going silent as I take seat next to Imogen and slowly pick at my food.

“You ok? You’ve been super quiet since battle brief?” Rhiannon asks as I roll a potato around my plate.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” I tell her as I look up at her. Behind her I see Liam and Xaden looking over at me.

“Regretting the comment you made to Liam about sex?” Rhiannon teases me as Imogen’s head whips towards me.

“Clearly I need to sit closer to you first years in battle brief. What did you say to him?” She asks a she props her head up on her arm as she looks at me, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Violet made a comment about missing sex, and the boys started being well boys and Violet shot them down, then this one her pipes up and says to Liam maybe he’d make the cut for someone else. Gods I’ve never seen those boys eyes go as wide as they did when those words left her mouth.” Rhiannon informs Imogen.

“And he’s been avoiding me ever since. Successfully ruined that friendship.” I say sarcastically as I finally stab the potato on my plate.

“And yet his eyes have not left you once since battle brief.” She adds sternly.

“Wait, you haven’t hooked up with him?” Imogen asks as her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Wait, you think Liam and I have slept together?”

She shrugs. “I mean with the way he looks at you and follows you around. Hell no guy goes anywhere near you because of him, and trust me they’ve tried. Even poor Bodhi over there wanted to have a shot with you before Liam sternly told him to look elsewhere.”

I shake my heat at them. “Trust me, not been there or done that. Not with anyone. And he doesn’t see me that way.”

Both girls look at me like I’ve told them the skies as pink as Imogen’s hair.

”Wait, you’re a virgin?” Rhiannon asks, lowering her voice so only I can hear her.

I nod. “Yes, and he definitely wont want to be with someone who has no experience/”

“You girl are so blind and oblivious.” Imogen states bluntly.

“I am not. If he wanted to be with me he would’ve tried. And he hasn’t. And I don’t want to be added to the list of girls he brings back to his room every other night.” I say a little too angrily.

“And also jealous apparently.” Imogen adds with a smirk.

“Am not.”

”Then how many girls are there?” Rhiannon asks.

I purse my lips together. And it’s all the answer they need from me to prove their point. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not the one girl kind of guy. And I don’t want to be on a list. It ain’t happening.”

“Maybe you just need to shoot your shot? What’s the worst that could happen?” Imogen adds so casually.

”I ain’t wrecking the friendship more than I have already. It will all be fine in a few days. He’ll sleep with someone and forget all about it.”

”I don’t know, that boys eyes have barely left you since you walked in and sat down. I say just go for it.” She adds before turning her attention back to her food.

I look up and immediately meet Liam’s blue eyes. I feel like he’s staring into my soul. As if trying to read my mind and intentions behind that comment. I shove my barely touched plate of food away before walking out of the dining hall and back to my room. I’m glad neither Rhiannon or Imogen try to follow me. Clearly deemed I’d had enough teasing for the evening. But in my hurry to leave, and my mind elsewhere. I don’t hear another set of feet following me, running to catch up. It’s not till they call out to me, that my blood runs cold with dread and my heart starts beating at a rapid pace.

“Y/N, wait up!” Liam calls behind me.

Only one more corridor and I can hide in my room for the night. Hide and deal with this tomorrow. I push my legs faster hoping my pace is faster than his. But it isn’t, and his hand grasp my wrist and spins me towards him. His other hand reaching out to steady me as I collide with his very solid muscular chest beneath his tight fitting black linen shirt. Too embarrassed to look him in the eye, I keep my eyes focused on the ground. He goes to grab my chin to raise my head but I tilt my head to the side and avoid his grip. I don’t have to know his eyes are furrowed at me right now. I’ve never avoided him touching me like that. Like I hated being close to him.

”Can you look at me?” He asks softly, his hand falling to his side.

I keep my eyes firmly on the floor. “What do you want Liam?”

”I want you to look at me Y/N. I want you to talk to me and not ignore me like I’m the plague like you have since battle brief.”

Anger flairs in me and has my eyes flicking up to his in an instant. “You weren’t exactly doing much better.” I snap.

He chuckles at me. “There she is.” I roll my eyes and go to leave, but he reaches out again and grasps my wrist.

I turn back and face him, watch as he swallows slowly, nervously. His eyes darting over me. Liam was nervous. Something I could say I had never seen him be.

“Are you ok?” I ask quietly.

”That comment you made today. In battle brief.” I gulp. Shit. “Did you mean you when you made that comment?”

I roll my eyes. “Heaps of girls want to be with you Liam, you know that.” I say trying to dodge the questions as I look down at my hands.

”That’s not what I asked.” He pleads, his fingers grasping my chin and forcing my eyes back to him. My breath catches in my throat at the intensity in his gaze “Did you mean you?”

His voice is almost pleading. Like, like he wanted my words to mean me. That I wanted him. That he would make the cut for me. That I would let him in.

”And what if I did? What if I was meaning me?” I ask quietly as I take a cautious step closer and place a hand on his chest as his hand moves from my chin to cup my cheek.

”Then we might need to go somewhere else if you did sweetheart.”

Gods I could have melted at the huskiness in his voice.

”I’m not being another girl on your list. It’s not what I want. And….”

“And what?” He asks, leaning down towards me.

”I’m…. I’ve never been with anyone. Ever.” I confess, averting my eyes from his.

”You would be the only girl on my list if you meant you. I only want you.” His voice so soft and gentle as his thumb runs over my cheek.

I look back up at him, his blue eyes piercing into mine. ”Then yes. I did mean me.”

I gasp as Liam backs me into my closed door, my legs locking around my waist as he kisses me, so soft and gentle as if testing the waters. He bites my lip before pushing his tongue into my mouth when I gasp at the sensation. His hands push under my shirt, his fingers skimming up and down my sides. I moan into his mouth as his grip around my waist tightens. His weight pushing me back into the door. I instinctively wind my fingers into his hair, as I tug I feel the moan rumble from his chest before he removes his lips from mine and rests his forehead on mine.

“Do that again.” He whispers against my lips.

I smile and do as he says, tugging on his blonde hair. I watch as his eyes darken and flare with desire. He walks backwards from the door, placing me back on my feet as he pushes the jacket from my arms and tugs on the bottom of my shirt. I raise my arms and he’s quick to discard of the material before removing his own. I go to trace the relic on his arm, but he kneels and starts to remove my boots, followed by my pants and underwear. He slowly stands back up, kissing his way back up my leg, sending shivers through my body. As he stands to his full height, he quickly removes his pants, exposing himself to me. He chuckles as I take him in. All of him.

Neither of us speaks, not wanting to break the moment. Liam grabs my hand and pulls me with him as he sits down on desk chair, guiding my legs either side of him. I go to sit but his hands hold me up by my waist. One of his hands slowly moves down, his fingers lightly caressing my skin as he makes his way between my legs. My hands grasps his shoulders as a moan rips from my throat as he inserts to fingers into me, my eyes closing as my head rolls back. He curls his fingers inside me, hitting the perfect spot, causing my to jump forward a little, but Liam’s hand keeps me steady as he chuckles at my reaction. He slowly slips his fingers from me as I groan at the loss. Liam’s hand comes up and cups my cheeks, my eyes opening to meet his.

“You ready?” He asks me, eyes blown wide with lust, but looking at me like I am the most precious thing in the world.

I look down at him. Gods I’m nervous. But I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. And now all embarassment and regret from making that comment in battle brief was gone. Because now I had Liam sitting below me, looking at me like I’m his everything.

I nod. “I’m ready.”

My eyes go wide as he stretches me open. It takes all my will power to keep my eyes open and looking at him. They risk fluttering shut but I force them open. My fingernails dig into Liam’s shoulder, definitely leaving marks as he lowers me slowly onto him. Eventually he sheaths himself inside me as I sit in his lap, a moan rippling through me and him.

He leans back in the chair as best as he can, as he starts to thrust slowly up and down. Each thrust pulling sounds I didn’t know were possible to come out of me as I clench around him. Every time i clench around him his fingers dig into my waist. His lips meet my neck, pressing light kisses and bites as he moves his way down my neck. As my fingers slip back into his hair and tug, he bites down hard causing me to yelp.

Liam thrusts up into me as he wraps his arms around my waist as he stands up, keeping himself inside me as he walks over to the bed and lays me down. He hitches my legs over his shoulders, immediately making me moan with out even moving. The position of my legs now having him hit a completely different angle in me. He smirks at me as I squirm under him. His hands find their place either side of my head as he leans forward and thrust into me. This time I am unable to keep my eyes on him as they roll back and flutter close. Liam clearly forgotten about the command he had given me as I clench around him and his pace picks up.

My hands reach up and pull Liam’s lips down to mine in a passionate kiss that is a fight for dominance. Each of us biting at our lips, our tongues fighting, Eventually Liam wins as my fingers run down his chest. He moves one of his hands to raise my hips, my eyes flying open at the new angle as Liam rests his forehead against mine as he stares into my eyes. A silent command to keep my eyes on him as we finish. With the rate I’m clamping down around him, he knows I’m close. Liam shifts his balance on his legs, his hand not raising my hips moving to my most sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately I come undone beneath him. His name rolling off my lips, mine soon tumbling off his as he finishes as well.

You were up on your feet before you knew it, his large shirt on you pooling around your naked legs as you stared at him, the way he briefly oriented himself around the room, then spun around to face you.

In the blink of an eye, both of you rushed forward and you were lifted effortlessly into the air, both of your legs coming to wrap around his waist as he held you close. You let out a happy laugh near his ear, his arms tightening their hold around you as his hands roamed over you, touching everywhere at once.

“Fuck, how I missed that laugh.” Garrick mumbled deeply, his free hand cupping your cheek and making you look at him. You smiled brightly, placing your hand over his and drinking in the sight of him. Unharmed. Love swirling fiercely in his captivating eyes.

He was home.

You bridged the distance between him and you, kissing him slowly and with relish. Knowing Garrick, these kinds of kisses soon wouldn’t do anymore, at least not to sate the bottomless need inside of him.

He tilted his head to the side, hand sliding into your hair as he snaked his other arm around you. With a small gasp, you came to stand on your tiptoes, busy touching his biceps, his strong shoulders and neck…

Without breaking the kiss, Garrick walked over to the edge of the bed, his tongue licking fire into your mouth as he sat down with you and let his hands travel over your naked thighs. You let out a small sound at the sudden closeness before willing yourself to break away for just a moment.

He stared back at you with heavy breath and half-lidded eyes, his usually pale cheeks now getting some lovely color because of you.

“Everything went okay?” You asked quietly, shuffling forward in his lap so your chests pressed against each other, hearts starting to messily beat in sync once more.

Garrick nodded, tucking back a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand staying on your cheek. “We all couldn’t get back fast enough though.”

You caressed down his muscles as they flexed instinctively underneath your tender touch. Your eyes stayed on his, drowning in the warm hazel tone and the fire burning behind it. As your lips parted with a relieved sigh when he splayed his big hands over your hips now, Garrick tugged you even closer against the heat of his body. His scar, so familiar in the way it ran down his temple and vanished at his stoic jaw, shined silverly, the healed tissue soft and rough at once under your fingertips.

You examined him quietly, counting his exhales and the seconds where more of his patience dissolved into thin air as he did sometimes. No bruises or cuts. He was alright. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the tension having followed you for days making its leave as well.

“I’m okay.” He mumbled under his breath, not missing anything. His thumb brushed over your cheek and the gesture was so loving in this time of unease, it nearly made you cry right then.

But you had missed him, desired him when it became dark outside and the mattress beside you was still empty, and you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“I missed you.” You confessed under your breath, a hungering something in your stomach curling itself tight. “I hate sleeping alone.”

“You don’t have to for a long while, trust me.” Garrick promised confidently and then you were kissing again, all softness from earlier forgotten as he nearly devoured you, needing to familiarize himself again with the feel of your soft lips, the taste of you.

You wound your arms around his strong neck and bucked your hips forward only to make him groan when your core brushed right over his hardness. Fuck.

“You don’t smell like me anymore.” He stated between hurried kisses, his tongue licking over the sensitive spot underneath your ear, making you arch against his tall form. Garrick always knew how to make you melt in just a couple of moments and his impatient nature was only intensifying the need, especially after you had been separated for so long.

You looked at him, a little out of breath, and slowly leaned forward to playfully nip at his bottom lip with your teeth. Not breaking eye-contact, you whispered: “You should change that, Lieutenant.”

He was on you in a split second.

He quickly rose with you in his arms, spinning around and then falling onto the sheets with you. Letting out a squeal at the sudden movement, you had no time to recover as he slid above you and kissed you hard, biting down on your plump bottom lip and pushing his hips forward. The warm riding leathers rubbed over your panties and you groaned. As hot as this was, you needed something else. Something only he could give you.

“Too many clothes.” You gasped against his lips and he hummed in agreement and switched to kissing down your neck, soothingly sucking at your favorite spot all your friends would soon tease you about. “Get the fuck naked, Tavis.”

Sometimes you wondered if his signet came with the power of unnatural speed as well, because within under a minute by far, Garrick had torn away your clothes entirely, leaving you wanting and naked on the bed before him, his eyes travelling lazily over your body as if he suddenly had all the time in the world again.

Lifting his shirt over his head, Garrick took a deep breath as the muscles in his stomach flexed. He was hard through his briefs and subconsciously, you licked your lips.

“Show me.” He said quietly and you spread your legs, presenting the evidence of your desire to him, your hunger a roaring pit in your stomach as you felt yourself drip onto the sheets for him. Your own company hadn’t been enough to fill the hole he left behind when he had to leave.

Garrick slowly licked his lips, eyes staying on your pussy as he crawled forward and finally got rid of his shirt. When he pulled down his briefs, your breath hitched, enticed by his hard dick springing against his abs, deliciously leaking at the tip.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered in awe of you and you beamed at the praise, your back arching into his touch as he drew a circle around your belly button, slowly travelling down… “So fucking wet for me, hm?”

As if to prove his point, he gently pressed your thighs further apart, breathing heavily as he let a trail of spit fall down on your folds, the sudden contact making a nerve in your calf twitch. Finally.

The first touch of his fingertips against your clit set you aflame.

Your hands fisted the sheets, your entire body suddenly helpless underneath his touch as he began to draw slow, wet circles on your most sensitive part, the friction so heavenly you could not help but throw your head back and gasp for air.

“Eyes on me, love.” Garrick commanded calmly and you obeyed, every cell in your body needing to please him, to be loved and adored by him.

A needy whimper left your lips as he kept rubbing you and you writhed against the bedding, willing to let him play with you however he wanted if you only got to come soon, or even better -  have him inside of you again. He bit his lip, an approving rumble going through his chest as you bucked your hips into his touch.

“Garrick…” You breathed longingly as he fisted his weeping cock, his thumb stroking your clit in adoration as his other fingers swept through your wetness. “Please.”

“Shh, just a moment longer.” He said, transfixed and uncharacteristically patient as he slowly eased a finger inside of your hot pussy, the tightness and warmth of your walls making his dick twitch. You reached out in an attempt to jerk him off, but midair you froze and you nearly forgot yourself as he suddenly curled his digit upwards.

“Have you touched yourself while I was gone?” He asked curiously and you almost managed to roll your eyes on him before the first was quickly joined by another finger and you groaned at the pleasurepain of it.

“Have you?” You managed to bite back, instantly rewarded by his beautiful low laughter.

“Baby…” His thumb brushed over your sensitive folds and clit, the other hand soothingly stroking your thighs. “Just about every night, you know?”

Gods, how he pleased you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so well.” Garrick promised huskily, a smug grin taking over his face at the filthy sounds your pussy made as he fingered you.

“Then do it.” You gasped, shivering as he scissored his digits once more before he pulled them out, a string of your wetness following him as if a part of you just couldn’t let him go this easily. “I need you to fuck me. Now, Garrick.”

“Such an attitude.” Garrick grinned, shaking his head as if he didn’t love every fucking second of this. His girl, soaked and trembling under him, the scent of her welcoming heat clouding every rationality in his mind.

You held on to his broad shoulders as he lowered himself down on you, his hips resting snugly between your thighs and for a moment, it was quiet and good and you finally felt whole again.

You moaned shakingly in union with him, briefly biting down on his collarbone as he eased inside of you, inch by inch until your thighs were already shaking and his hips were cradled warmly between your thighs. Garrick grunted, resting his forehead between your tits, his breath fanning over the warm skin and making it break out in pleased shivers. The strong arms resting at your sides were trembling slightly.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed, his tongue swirling around one of your aching buds before he looked at you awe-struck, not knowing how the hell he deserved to return to a heavenly woman like you. “’s been way too long…”

Your muscles flexed around him and he groaned, cock twitching inside of you. In a breathless whisper, you protested: “You’ve only been gone for two weeks.” Now you were challenging your luck.

“Two weeks too long, baby.” He muttered seriously before he caught your mouth in a hot and messy kiss, your moan swallowed by him as he pressed forward once again and then slowly pulled back, just to slowly fuck into you again when your head dropped helplessly onto his pillow.

Garrick rolled his hips, building up an intoxicating rhythm as you shook, your neglected pussy overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of it, of feeling him inside of you when you had to put up with your own fingers for the last days when the longing had become too much.

“Fuck baby, you’re gripping me so tightly…really missed me, huh?” He smiled at you brightly and if he hadn’t been balls deep inside of you right then, dragging his dick just right against your walls, you might’ve slapped him playfully.

“Don’t get cocky now.” Gods, you sounded ruined already and you knew he had not even started with you.

He grinned down at you, relishing the little twin pains in his shoulder blades where you held on to him tightly, still at his mercy while he oh so slowly fucked you. Garrick winked before he looked down to where his cock was sliding out of you, the sounds slippery and absolutely filthy as he used your puffy cunt to lube himself up more before he pushed back in. “Too late, hm?”

You glared at him, purposefully flexing around him and throwing your legs around his waist, causing him to plunge deeper inside of you. Garrick gasped in surprise but quickly regained his posture of confidence as he leaned down to kiss your chest, beginning to fuck you in earnest now.

The change was so sudden, it nearly gave you whiplash.

You were so wet, he could easily pound into you, his arms caging you in as his hips met yours. You bit back a scream as he lifted your bum from the mattress, holding on to him for dear life and then suddenly, the air split in two and-

- he suddenly stood with you in his arms, adjusting his grip on your thighs. You blinked at him in a second of confusion, peeking over his shoulder to see the abandoned messy bed where you two had just laid.

Garrick had wielded the distance. With you.

And he was still very much inside of you.

Your naked back hit the wall behind you and he bent his knees just slightly, the new angle making the delicious curve of his cock dragged over your sweet spot. You moaned loudly, the back of your head hitting the wall as he stared at you like you were his own personal goddess.

“Better.” He decided and lifted you, only to push you down onto his cock again. As if you weighed nothing in his arms, he resumed to fucking you once again, his thrusts sharp and passionate, lacking the patience from earlier and gaining more wildness with every push and pull.

You could do nothing but hold on to him as he fucked you, your high moans swallowed by his deep kisses when he wasn’t busy with ravishing your bared neck. He seemed to be everywhere at once, insatiable in his want for you.

Your nails raked down his muscular back and he moaned right into your mouth, utterly consumed by the feel of you as he rocked into you like it’d be the last time in his life. And you met him with each thrust, rolling your hips and feeling the mouth-watering friction of his abdomen against your clit every time.

“Come on, come on.” You urged him on raspily, sensing the familiar stutter in his rhythm, the way his fingers in your hair trembled. “I know you’re close, I’m right there with you. Let go, Gar…”

With a final shout, Garrick buried his face in your neck and released deep inside of you and as he reached down to touch you, you followed him right over the edge with a scream, your orgasm crashing over you like a thunderstorm.

Feeling the warmth of his come within you, your eyes fluttered closed as you both breathed in sync, unwilling to part yet as Garrick held you close like he never wanted to let go again.

“So perfect…” He mumbled against your skin and you giggled happily and drunk on pleasure.

You slumped down against him, trusting him blindly to catch you and he did. His strong arms held you close against his chest as his heavy exhales tickled the top of your head. You were boneless, completely happy and done with the world as long as your man held you and a sigh so wholly satisfied left your lips, it almost felt blasphemous.

A heaviness seeped into your body, but just as you wanted to hug Garrick and let yourself be carried to bed, he drew back. You whined, displeased as he slipped out of you, not understanding.

“Uh-uh, I’m not done with you yet.” He said with a simple shake of his head and slid down, his hands placing your bum back against the wall, one of them sliding underneath your thigh and lifting until he rested one of your shaky legs over his shoulder.

He got down on his knees.

“Garrick-“ Your eyes widened at the realization of what was about to occur, but it seemed like they hadn’t fed the returning soldiers at Riorson House yet. Because in the next second, Garrick was surging forward, moaning deeply as he buried his face in your pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice nearly catapulting you into the next life.

You slammed your hand over your mouth, shrieking as he licked into you, his tongue dragging your combined releases over your spread folds before he suckled hard at your clit. He was all that held you up, his strength enough for the two of you as he devoured you without any saturation in sight.

Your hand was ripped away from your mouth and then, his glistening lips brushed over your knuckles, his eyes holding you captive as he slowly shook his head. “Let me hear you.”

Your answer was a broken moan, close to a blissful sob as he kissed and licked at you like his life depended on it, eager to taste every drop until you’d shatter underneath his skilled tongue.

“Fuck, Garrick-”

“Give me everything, baby.” He praised you, his hot breath fanning over your throbbing overstimulated clit for a moment as you panted and clawed at his shoulders in an attempt to try and keep up with him. “Such a good fucking girl, I missed you so much…”

“-missed you.” You gasped, twitching in his hold as he laid his tongue flat on you and licked a fat stripe upwards. And did it again and again.

A scorching heat tore through your stomach and it shouldn’t have been possible, but you were already there again, almost ready to jump over the cliff he had been leading you to.

Garrick, sensing your nearing release, looked up at you, his tongue still dancing around your clit as he laced your hands together and placed them both on the wall behind you.

“Every second I’m apart from you is still filled with you.” He vowed. “I love you.”

With one last stroke against you, you shattered apart. Unable to hold you up anymore, your legs gave in and Garrick caught you and pulled you against his chest as your second orgasm tore through you violently. His hands around your waist would likely leave marks later as you panted against his throat, trying to breathe through the last waves of pleasure rushing through you.

“Easy, love.” He murmured, peppering soft kisses over your temple, the top of your head and nose as you slowly calmed down. Garrick was so warm, a human furnace of a man, you felt your eyelids droop almost immediately, the position in his lap way too comfy to want to get up and clean yourself.

“I love you too…” You told him quietly, snuggling into his chest and relishing the closeness you had missed so dearly. You kissed his chest, right over his pounding, love-struck heart as he smiled warmly at you. “Welcome back.”

————

-Bound-

(Aaric POV)

“Cam,” she moans against the skin of his collarbone.

Aaric thrusts forward, bottoming out inside of her cunt. He throws his head back in rapture. She’s tight, so tight. It feels incredible. He needs more.

“Hold on, love.”

He pulls out only to slam back into her. She gasps, clawing at his back.

“Please,” she cries out as he does it again. And again. And again.

Aaric bends forward, nipping at her ear as he whispers, “Please, what? Tell me what to do, Y/N. I’ll do anything you want.”

Her breath hitches, as he pumps faster and faster, feeling how soaked she’s getting with each thrust.

His fingers find her clit, circling and teasing as her breaths pick up speed. He feels her racing pulse against his lips as he kisses down her sweat-slicked skin.

“Keep doing that,” she pants, her voice hoarse. “Keep touching me.”

Aaric smirks against her neck. “Anything for you, love.”

When he syncs his fingers with his thrusts, he feels her pussy beginning to tighten around his cock. He closes his eyes at the glorious feel of her coming close to the edge. With the mounting pressure at the base of his spine, he can tell he’s almost there, reaching his peak.

“Cam,” she gasps and moans, her eyes fluttering to meet his. Something shines in her eyes as she stares up at him.

A flood of adoration fills him as he gazes down at her. She’s so beautiful. And right now, she’s all his.

“Cam, I love—“

A loud crash has Aaric shooting up from his bed, panting. The darkness of his room greets him as his pulse races loudly in his ears. He looks around in a panic before he sees he’s entirely alone.

Y/N isn’t here.

It was a dream.

“Fuck,” Aaric groans, throwing himself back onto the mattress. His pillows had fallen off the bed while he tossed and turned. One of them colliding with the clock next to his bedside, causing it to crash to the floor.

Frustration and guilt gnaw at him as the dream still clings to his thoughts. The way she moaned and sighed his name. Her cheeks flushed. Her skin as soft as he imagines it to be.

The straining of his cock in his briefs has him shifting, adjusting to make it less uncomfortable. But the dream won’t let him go so easily. He’s incredibly hard, almost to the point of pain. He knows this will be a problem later on if he doesn’t deal with it soon.

Glancing at the darkened windows, he knows he has plenty of time before he’s expected to get up.

The whisper of Y/N’s moans echoes in his mind like a siren call as he slides his hand into his briefs. Gripping himself, he focuses on the dream, trying to imagine it’s real. The way her back arched. How her mouth gaped and widened. Her pupils dilating as he circled her clit. Her nipples turning into sharp peaks in the soft lighting of his dream.

Aaric groans, his hand sliding up and down his shaft, remembering how real it felt to be inside of her. How she fluttered around him, tightening and releasing him just so.

It’s agonizing remembering the dream so vividly and not feeling her this very moment. Not being able to kiss the skin of her collarbone before finding his way to her breasts. Sucking, licking, biting. His imagination of her body and what he would do to please her has run wild for so long, his hunger for her has become ravenous.

Aaric’s movements become frantic, chasing that high as a bead of precum spills from his tip. Her name chants in his mind as he imagines the feel of her lips against his. Would she be soft, like her skin? Or rough and passionate from wanting him for so long? He knows he’d take his time. He’d memorize every curve, dip, and valley of her body. Every sound she makes when she—

Her name flows from his lips like a prayer as he spills onto the sheets. Moans fill his room as he finishes.

When his cock softens and the throbbing dissipates, an ache settles in his chest. The familiar taste of guilt floods him as he slowly comes back to the present.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. And deep in his bones, he knows it won’t be the last. His body and mind both yearn for her. Being close to her, staying friends, it’s not enough for him.

Frustration racks up his spine as he shifts to stand, tearing the sheets from his bed as he goes. He’s folding the linens when that familiar, deep rumbling presence enters his mind.

Oh fuck. Not now.

“Will this be a common occurrence that will wake me from my slumber?” Molvic grumbles, his voice full of obvious annoyance. “I would prefer not to be present during such private…mortal weaknesses.”

Aaric winces, embarrassment flooding him. I didn’t mean to wake you—

“I know. That is obvious, Princeling.”

Aaric takes deep breaths as he throws the dirty sheets into a basket before grabbing new ones and making his bed.

As much as Aaric hopes he’ll sever their connection, Molvic stays.

“Your frustration with your mate is exhausting. If you wish to be with her, be with her. This is trivial.”

Aaric tenses. Like I’ve said before, she’s not my mate.

A pause. “Your emotions tell me otherwise.”

That doesn’t mean she’s my mate.

It’s as if he can feel the dragon roll his eyes while he quickly dresses into his loose training gear. There’s no way he’ll be able to sleep after that dream. Especially not after Molvic’s chastising.

If he can’t get any sleep, he’s going to take this time to burn off the excess energy in his body to forget everything that just happened.

If Molvic will even let him.

“Human mates are strange. You never communicate. It’s truly unnecessary.” A deep sigh rattles through his mind. “You make this more difficult for yourself.”

Irritation begins to bloom inside of Aaric as he bends to tie his boots. She is my friend, Molvic. Nothing more.

“Then move on.”

Aaric freezes, his laces gripped tightly in his fingers. A flash of her smile, her laughter, chokes him. He recalls the many times he watched her over the pages of a book while she thought he was busy reading. The way the sunlight would catch her skin, gilding her. How her eyes would sparkle as she absorbed whatever story she was consumed by. Her cheeks flushing as she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

The ache in his chest is consuming now. An emptiness hollowing him at the thought of never being able to love her.

Because Aaric does. He loves her. He loves her with every breath of his lungs. Every fiber of his being, every beat of his heart, yearns for her to be his.

He’s never known when he fell for her, only that it was gradual and permanent. Something that settled in him like knowing the sky is blue and that she’s the epitome of love.

Aaric has always loved her and he always will.

With a sigh of defeat, he confesses, I can’t move on. I don’t think I ever will.

“Then stop denying yourself.” What sounds like a yawn fills his head as Molvic’s voice begins to slowly fade. “It only burdens you.”

Aaric stares at the wood of his door, his hand gripping the brass handle. This morning wasn’t the only time he’s thought of her in his bed, under his skin. The dreams have gotten worse since she forgave him for being overprotective months ago. Having her here, so close to him, makes it all the more painful to keep his feelings at bay.

So, he dreams. He hopes. He imagines what life would be like if they were together. If they weren’t thrown into the middle of a war. If they lived at the end of all this.

If she was mine.

It’s an intoxicating thought, but he can’t help himself. If she were his, he’d never let her go.

————

(Reader POV)

Where the hell is she?

My legs ache from pacing back and forth in the quadrant’s library. Violet is thirty minutes late, and I feel like I’m going to go crazy if she doesn’t show up any second.

Dim, morning light filters through the tall, arched windows, casting hazy shadows across the stone floor. The windows overlook the valley below Basgiath, where two weeks ago, I was fighting for my life to bond with a dragon. The branches are full of golden and red-hued leaves. This morning is beautiful, peaceful. Especially since a sudden frost settled over the valley during the night. It coats the windows, causing me to shiver, my skin prickling.

The beauty rivals my tempestuous emotions. It’s been over two weeks since Kesi and I bonded. The bond itself warms my being, but it’s the mating bond that has me pacing.

Two weeks ago, while everyone who bonded a dragon was celebrating after Threshing, I stole away to find Violet. Once I tracked her down, I found her talking with Rhiannon.

“Hey Vi,” I slipped into their conversation, not even caring I’d interrupted. “I need to talk to you.”

Concern etched itself across her features as she turned to me. “Is everything alright?” She lowered her voice, whispering, “Is it something to do with Aaric?”

“Yes and no,” I winced.

Understanding had lit her eyes as she turned to Rhiannon. “I promise I’ll find you later, okay?”

My squad leader nodded before disappearing down the hall.

Once she was out of sight, Violet stepped closer. “Did he find out how you feel about him? How you’re in lo—“

“No!” I rushed, terror striking me. “No, he doesn’t…” I breathed deeply as I tried to calm my racing heart. “It’s not about that.”

Violet’s brows furrowed as she shook her head. “I’m sorry for assuming. I just thought after all this time—“

“Our dragons are mates.”

Violet’s jaw dropped as silence encased our corner of the empty hall. Distantly, I could hear music and voices still celebrating.

”Holy shit,” Violet stared at me. “Mates?”

I nodded. “I need to know what to expect, Vi. I’ve heard it can be…difficult.”

Violet winced. “It can be, at least parts of it.” She sighed. “I can tell you what to expect, but I’m worried—“

Xaden Riorson appeared over her shoulder. As if sensing him, Violet turned around, her features softening.

“Excuse me,” Xaden spoke to me, but his eyes were on Violet. “But Violet, I need you to see this,” his face was grave as he quickly took Violet by the hand, guiding her down the hall.

She had turned back to me, an apology in her eyes as she followed. It wasn’t until later that she sent me a letter informing me she wanted to talk as soon as possible. Alone.

Well, the time finally came. It took weeks, but now, I’ll get my answers. If Violet ever shows up.

As if I summoned her with my thoughts, she appears, rounding the side of a bookcase.

“Y/N,” Violet rushes to hug me, slightly out of breath. “I’m sorry, life’s been so busy lately. I wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”

Relief washes over me from the sight of her. I quickly motion for her to sit down at a table with me. “I get it, you’re a second year. You have better things to do than worry about a first-year problem.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m happy to help. Especially when it comes to this.”

Violet throws her pack on the table, taking out a leather-bound tome that’s definitely from the archives.

“I grabbed this to help you with anything you don’t understand. It helped me a lot last year when I found out about Tairn and Sgaeyl.” She places the tome on the table before turning to me. “Have you talked to Kesi about it?”

A rumbling huff sounds in my mind, announcing Kesi’s presence.

“You need not worry about this.”

I clench my hands into fists. Nothing you’ve said has been reassuring.

“Molvic is my mate. This should not be a problem for you.”

Deflating, I soften my tone. It’s not a problem. I just want to understand how this affects me and Aaric. No one has told me what to expect.

“I have told you all I can.”

Ignoring her, I nod to Violet. “She’s not told me enough to reassure me.”

Violet grips my hand, her fingers soft and familiar. I smile at the gesture, missing having my friend around more often.

“I get it, trust me,” she huffs a laugh. Squeezing my hand, her hazel eyes meet mine. “First thing you need to know, the bond you have with Kesi? It now extends to Molvic and Aaric. You can communicate with them like you can communicate with Kesi. It’s…strange, at first,” a blush rises to her cheeks that has me raising a brow. “But you’ll adjust to it. You can easily shut them out the more you learn to shield.”

I nod, remembering all the lessons over the last two weeks on shielding. Picturing the library in the palace has helped me visualize my bond with Kesi. It’s the one place I’ve felt completely at home and comfortable, with Aaric at my side. The image of the marble pillars, towering white bookcases, the painted fresco of the gods and dragons decorating the ceiling, rows and rows of rare tomes— it settles the roaring thoughts of my racing mind.

I sit there, closing my eyes, and search my palace library, finding a solid door near Kesi’s. Hers is encased in light, warming me to the bone when I touch its surface. While this one is cold and burning, a blue haze covers the surface when I near it. This is definitely Molvic’s connection to me. I hope I never have to use it.

When I search my library again, I find another door. This one, unlike the dragon’s doors with obvious traces of imposing power, is simple, familiar. Its wooden frame is carved with images of a cabin and lake. It’s the one place Aaric and I would escape to during the winter to be away from court. This is definitely Aaric’s connection to me.

I open my eyes, finding Violet watching me with that scribe-like curiosity. “So, I can communicate with Aaric? Mind to mind?”

Violet nods. “It’s honestly more helpful than you think, but he won’t always be in your head.”

The thought of him even being there briefly has me slightly panicking. What if he sees or hears something he shouldn’t?

An even worse thought comes to me. What if he hears my unfiltered thoughts about my feelings for him? Would he hear every dirty thought I have when I watch him shirtless on the mat? How his straining, sweat-slicked muscles have me clenching my legs together, imagining him holding me down in his bed? Or how I wake most mornings, aching to be in his arms, wanting him inside of me?

A blush rises to my cheeks. Gods, this is awful.

“You’re being dramatic.”

I ignore Kesi, moving on. “Okay, so I can talk to him and Molvic. Got it. Is there anything else I should know or be aware of?”

Violet’s blush reaches up her neck, causing alarm to rise inside of me.

“Well, it can get…complicated,” she winces. “I mean, when Kesi and Molvic are together, it can lead you and Aaric to become…overwhelmed.”

I furrow my brows. “Overwhelmed?”

She slowly nods before scooting closer to whisper, “I know you care for him, but however you feel strongly for Cam, it’ll be incredibly heightened when Kesi and Molvic can’t shut you out during their own heightened emotions.”

I blanch. “You mean when they mate, I’ll want to jump Aaric’s bones?”

Violet squeezes my hand again, trying to reassure me. “I’ve known you for too long to lie to you. It’s going to be really hard to hide how you feel from him. I’m doing this to warn you of what will come.”

Truly, I appreciate what she’s doing. She went through it herself with Xaden, and now look at them, they’re inseparable and incredibly in love. I can picture them having a future together with how happy he makes her.

“Thanks, Vi,” I squeeze her hand. “You’d think after all these years, I’d let go of my feelings for him and move on,” I laugh bitterly.

Violet shakes her head. “Maybe this is a sign that you should tell him. Your dragons being mates feels like this was meant to be. Maybe it’ll work out.”

“And if I lose his friendship and he pushes me away? What then?” I stare out the frosted windows, an ache creeping up my limbs and burrowing in my chest. “I’d rather he be my friend than ruin anything between us.”

Burning fills my eyes as the overwhelming sense of loss fills me. If I can’t have Aaric for my own, I still want him in my life. No matter how much it hurts.

“Thanks for your help,” I try to smile, but the aching in my chest is hollowing me out. I’ll start crying if I don’t get out of here soon enough.

Violet stops me as I try to get up. “One more thing,” her face is gravely serious as she meets my eye. The soft encouragement from before is gone. “Did Kesi happen to tell you the consequences of a mating bond with two bonded riders?”

I slowly shake my head no.

She closes her eyes before breathing deeply. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this, but you and Aaric are bound now.”

“Bound?”

Her hazel eyes open, burning into mine. “If somehow, someway, he dies, then you die. If you die,” she swallows. “He dies, too.”

“Y/N!”

I shoot out of my chair, stumbling to my feet at the sound of Kesi’s ringing shout.

“Hey, you alright?” Violet reaches out, but my head is pounding hard, heart beating rapidly. I feel a surge of panic crash through me, and it’s startling.

What’s wrong?

“Get to the gymnasium. Now.”

The gym? What?

Did something—

“Your foolish prince is trying to get himself killed.”

————

I burst through the gym doors, breaths sawing through me from running down the many flights of stairs to get here. A crowd is gathered around the mats, sounds of yelling filling the cavernous hall. Violet sticks close behind me as I shove my way forward.

“If he dies, you die. If you die, he dies.”

Violet’s words vibrate through me as I move through the crowd.

Please be alive, please be alive, please—

When we finally reach the front, my stomach drops. Aaric is lying on the mat looking half dead. Blood drips down his face from a cut on his forehead. Sweat soaks his shirt as he stumbles to his feet.

Swaying, he stares down his opponent. I’ve never seen this guy before, but he’s huge. Larger than Aaric, and he looks incredibly pissed off. His knuckles are cracked and bleeding, his lip swollen as bruising lines his jaw.

But Aaric looks far worse. It’s this fact that has me panicking. Aaric’s losing this fight. He doesn’t lose unless he wants to.

“AARIC!”

My shout is lost in the commotion of the crowd as Aaric bounces on his toes, swinging at the other man. He easily evades it before punching Aaric in the stomach. The prince stumbles before spitting blood on the mat. His smile is all bloody teeth as he lunges forward.

Dain comes into view, his face pale as he watches with everyone else.

I run to him, panic lacing my voice as I shout, “Do something!”

Dain shakes his head. “I tried. I really did. He only tried to fight me, but I wouldn’t do it.” He turns his head and I can see slight bruising lining his cheekbone.

“Something’s very wrong,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

Dain nods. “He’s either drunk or super pissed off.”

I shake my head. No, Aaric isn’t like that. He’s logical, first and foremost. Everything he does is within reason. He’s calculated and cautious. He would never do this to bring attention to himself. He’s been trying to lay low for months.

So, what set him off?

My gaze returns to Aaric, who’s caught around his middle and thrown to the mat. His opponent straddles him and begins punching his face. Aaric doesn’t even protect himself. He just lays there…almost like he wants it to happen.

If he won’t end it, I will.

I clench my fists, grinding my teeth as I surge forward. Dain’s arm shoots out to grab me, but I step out of his reach.

Running onto the mat, I use all my strength as I collide with the brute on top of Aaric. The momentum throws him off of Aaric’s bruised and bleeding body, crashing to the mat with me on top of him. He looks up, stunned. When his eyes narrow, I roll off of him and stand with my feet apart and fists raised.

I hear Aaric cough my name, but I don’t turn around.

“He’s done,” I say, my voice lethal and cold. “You should be done, too.”

The guy hacks a wad of spit onto the mat inches from my boots. “He’s done when I say he’s done.”

Fury courses through my veins like a cold fire, an icy pull to kill, eliminate, and protect pulling me under. But I don’t give in. I can tell this is part of Kesi’s emotions bleeding into my own. But I tap into it, using it as a weapon.

“This is how this is going to go,” I growl. “You’re going to let me take him to a healer. And you’re going to stay the fuck away from him. Got it?”

His eyes furrow as he appraises me from head to toe. “I don’t need to take orders from his girlfriend.”

“I’m not asking.”

A strange surge of control comes over me. I’m highly aware of every part of my body, every movement of my chest as my breathing slows. I stare down at him, standing in front of Aaric.

It feels like lightning courses through my veins as I command, “Leave. Now.”

Without a second thought, he pulls himself to his feet, glancing at Aaric before turning around and forcing his way through the crowd.

The burning in my body fades just as soon as it arrives. My energy is draining as a pounding headache replaces that surge of calculated fury. I try to shake it off, turning to Aaric. He’s coughing and wheezing as I fall to my knees.

“Cam?” I whisper, my hand lightly touching his bruising cheek.

He turns into the touch, eyes closed as a groan escapes him. “Y/N?” His skin feels feverish and sticky as he moans into my hand, “I missed you.”

He’s delirious, that’s for certain, but his words set off butterflies in my stomach, warmth spreading through me. My eyes burn as I survey his swollen, bleeding face.

Violet is there, kneeling beside me. “We need to get him to a healer.”

I nod as Dain begins shouting to get everyone else to leave. He’s suddenly beside us, kneeling to pick up Aaric.

“Can you walk?” He asks.

Aaric’s head rolls as he looks up at him, blood dripping from his mouth onto the mat. “Oh hi, Dain.”

Dain swears under his breath before standing with Aaric. “I think he has a bad concussion.”

Aaric’s head swerves and finds me, a smile breaking out across his face. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

I would’ve laughed if his eyes didn’t immediately close after speaking. Dain slaps him across the face. It jolts him awake, his swollen eyes wide with alarm.

“What the fuck?!”

Dain huffs as he carries him from the gym. “You need to stay awake, you bastard, or I’m dropping you down the stairs. Gods, you’re heavy.”

Aaric glares at him before his eyes meet mine over Dain’s shoulder. Blood drips down the side of his head as he stares at me. I reach out and smooth back his hair before it gets more blood in it.

“You fucking idiot,” I whisper as tears threaten to fall. “We’re taking you to the healers. If you didn’t break anything, I’m breaking your jaw later for this.”

Aaric coughs a laugh before groaning as his body shifts in Dain’s arms once we’re in the hall.

“Don’t let my father find out,” he hisses to Dain.

He scoffs. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Cam.”

————

(Aaric POV)

When Aaric wakes, he finds Y/N sitting next to his bed, biting her lip as she grips his hand. Sheets tuck him into the bed as the sun sets, streaming fractures of light across the room through the arched windows.

A headache pounds against his head as he slowly shifts. On instinct, he tightens his fingers around hers, causing her to jump in her seat.

Her eyes whip to his, wide and tear-stained. “You’re awake.”

It must’ve been hours since Dain dragged Aaric into the healer’s room. Halfway up the stairs, he practically threw the prince to the stone before making him walk. Sienna had yelled at Dain for being a prick and at Aaric for being a moron for getting himself into this mess. They both hooked themselves beneath his shoulders and helped carry him the rest of the way up the stairs.

He barely remembers any of it. Only the feel of stiff sheets beneath him and the smell of something acidic and medicinal before blacking out.

“Hi,” he rasps, voice scratchy from disuse. Sharp pain lingers around his ribs, making him wince. “How long was I out?”

Y/N tightens her grip on his hand. “Almost ten hours, give or take?”

He huffs a laugh before immediately coughing. She’s there with water in her hands, helping him drink. The cool liquid wakes him further, clearing his mind.

“Fuck,” he winces as he tries to shift in bed to sit up. “Everything hurts.”

She rolls her eyes. “I wonder why.”

He scowls at the ceiling before attempting to raise himself again, breathing heavily from the movement.

“Stop that or you’ll make everything worse,” she scolds him, moving to stand.

Aaric rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. There’s enough drugs in my system to keep the pain at bay,” he hisses as sharp pain hits him again in the ribs. “Or at least I think so.”

She glowers down at him. “You’re such an idiot. What were you thinking earlier? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

He tenses. That morning, after he tried to run off all the pent-up energy and desire he felt upon waking earlier, guilt still gnawed at him. He couldn’t believe how horrible of a friend he was for imagining her like that. She didn’t want that. She deserved better than that from such a close friend.

His head was so caught up in this that while he was swinging at a punching bag, he felt someone approach him from behind. They tried to taunt him, test him, get him riled up. Without thinking, with frustration rising inside of him, he turned and threw a punch at the guy. It quickly turned out to be a mistake, but when he got caught up in a fight with the brutish cadet, it felt liberating. Something he could control. And as each punch landed on his body, he knew he deserved it. He allowed it to happen.

Jaw clenched, Aaric doesn’t say anything as his best friend continues to fume. What can he say to her? “Hey, I’m sick and tired of being your friend and it’s slowly eating me alive?”

No. He couldn’t say that.

“Look,” Y/N sighs. “I know you. I know how you fight and what happened earlier was you punishing yourself for something.”

His fists clench, eyes trying not to meet hers as he feels her sympathetic gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“What happened earlier is not nothing. You had broken ribs and a shattered cheekbone. Not even to mention your concussion! It took hours for them to heal you, and I never left, so don’t you get to say it’s nothing when it obviously wasn’t.”

Her voice breaks as she speaks, and Aaric finally looks at her. Tears brim her eyes. Fear and worry lining her features. His heart softens and aches at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’re right. It wasn’t nothing.” He sighs. “I…I was frustrated and angry. He just happened to be there. I needed to blow off some steam. That’s all.”

She doesn’t buy it, he can tell, but her shoulders loosen. “I’m getting real sick of these suicidal heroic tendencies of yours.”

He snorts. “Yeah, me too.”

This cracks her. She smiles gently. Aaric smiles back, only for his head to sting, causing him to wince.

She surges forward. “Shit, your stitches.”

She picks up a cloth lying on the bedside table before moving towards him. Her fingers are gentle, careful, as she smooths the cloth over his forehead. She’s close enough to breathe in the scent of her. Aaric can’t resist. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Lilac and citrus.

Memories of home rise to the forefront of his mind. Laughter ringing out over a pan of burned muffins. Shared smiles as his older brother, Halden, stomps off to sulk. Fingers tangled together as both Y/N and himself ready to jump into a pond brimming with water lilies and cattails.

Nostalgia grips him by the throat, and he tries to swallow it down. Everything about her, all that she is, is home for him.

Looking up at her, watching as she concentrates on her task, he feels a wave of affection crash over him.

Later, he’ll blame the drugs flowing through his system, numbing his usual restraint. But for now, he allows his hands to slide across her waist, pulling her closer.

Her breath catches, hand freezing on his forehead as her eyes meet his. He sees a question in her gaze, and something lighter. Something that must be reflected in his own as his fingers slowly pull up the material of her shirt. Just enough for his fingers to settle upon her skin, thumbs caressing her waist in slow circles.

Her pupils dilate as she holds his stare, breath increasing. He can feel her pulse through her skin, racing as fast as his own as he stares up at her through his lashes.

“Is this okay?” His voice is husky, full of need.

She swallows, his eyes tracking the movement, suddenly enraptured by the exposed skin of her neck.

“Y-yes,” she stammers. “It’s okay.”

He leans closer, her lips inches from his as he breathes her in. His fingers move to wrap around her back, caressing the base of her spine as he continues to draw slow, methodical circles into her skin.

“Is this?”

She nods, her eyes fluttering as his fingers softly trace the curves of her skin. Cloth forgotten, she allows it to fall to the bed, her hands tangling in his waves. The way she softly pulls on his hair has a moan rising from his mouth. The movement causes their lower lips to brush, lightning coursing through his veins at the sensation. A gasp falls from her mouth at the contact, her fingers pulling him closer.

“Cam,” she breathes, her voice full of want.

Flashes to this morning, to how he woke without her in his bed, makes him ache to take her there now. To show her exactly what he’s wanted to do to her for years.

Fuck, I want to kiss you so badly.

Y/N freezes. Her eyes widening before she pulls back from him. He starts to tug her back to him, not wanting to let her go, when she stops him with a hand on his bare chest.

“I heard you.”

Aaric furrows his brows, his entire being focused on the shape of her lips. “What?”

“Aaric,” she insists. She forces him to look at her, and her eyes soften for a moment. She sighs before closing her eyes, as if she’s concentrating.

“I want to kiss you, too.”

Her voice suddenly rings loud and clear in his head, startling him. His jaw hangs open as he stares.

Holy shit.

She smirks. “Violet told me about how the mating bond connects us. And I think because of your…lowered inhibitions,” her eyes sparkle as she leans closer. “Your shields let me in, allowing me to hear your thoughts just now.”

Well, fuck.

Y/N laughs, the sound lighting every nerve in his body. “It’s freaky, right?”

Aaric shakes his head. “What if I like hearing your voice in my head?”

She bites her lip, a flush rising to her cheeks. Gods, he wants her. He wants to kiss the hell out of that mouth, taste every bit of her. He wants to take his time before he moves his lips down her neck, taunting her, as he opens the buttons on her shirt, exposing her skin—

“Graycastle,” a voice startles them both, forcing Y/N to spring away from him. They both turn to find an aged healer standing there with a firm expression. “This is not the time or place for such fraternizing. Please refrain yourselves as you are not the only ones in the room.”

Aaric’s pulse races in his ears as he turns back to his best friend, whose face is bright red, eyes bulging as she stares at the floor, her mouth pinched to keep herself from smiling. He can’t help his own from spreading across his face. A strange giddiness fills him as her eyes slowly meet his.

She wants to kiss me.

The thought emboldens him, even as the healer shoos Y/N away from his cot. He catches her stare as she leaves.

Will you be back?

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears before giving him a small smile at the doorway. “Is this a stupid question, or are you still concussed?”

Aaric’s smile is still wide even after Y/N disappears. Long after the healer checks his bandages and leaves. When the lights go out for curfew, he notices the lingering scent of her, clinging to the air around him. Lilac and citrus.

Just as he succumbs to sleep, he swears he overhears Molvic grumble in his mind. One word. “Finally.”

————

————

A knock at the door has me glancing at the clock on the mantel.

Who would be up at this hour?

Anxiety hits me, wondering if Venin have crossed the border or breached the wards of Tyrrendor. But if that was so, wouldn’t the bells be ringing? People stampeding in the hall? Dragons roaring in the distance?

I slowly get to my feet, grabbing a robe to cover the white lace nightdress that reaches to the tops of my thighs. If someone is here with a missive or I’m needed in battle, I’m definitely screwed in this outfit.

If it’s not anything life-threatening or imminent, I’ll be so pissed. Whoever is at the door is interrupting my only time to relax while at Riorson house. I’ve been re-reading Garrick’s latest letters by the fireplace.

A hollow ache burrows in my heart. It’s been five weeks since I’ve seen him. Over a month since I’ve held him in my arms, kissed him, or felt his curls beneath my fingers. Every day without him has been eating me alive.

The last time I saw him, he was rushing onto the flight field with me on his heels. Xaden had already taken to the skies after a long goodbye with Violet. Now, Garrick was expected to go with him, as always. I’d resent Xaden if I didn’t trust him with my life. Or, in this case, Garrick’s life. It’s because of this that I know he’ll bring Garrick back to me.

Rushing towards Chradh, Garrick had caught sight of Xaden overhead before whirling to me. He crashed into me, gravity pulling us together as he kissed the life out of me. His grip was hard and desperate before slowly loosening, caressing me. When his forehead met mine, I knew I wouldn’t see him for a very long time.

“You know I love you?” he whispered.

I nodded, tears choking me as he kissed me one last time.

Another knock at the door, this one more desperate, brings me out of my memories. I huff in annoyance before throwing open the door.

I immediately freeze.

“Garrick?” My whisper is full of uncertainty.

On the threshold, just beyond reach of the wards placed on the room, a man tall enough to tower over me with fair skin, dark curls, and heartbreaking hazel eyes grips the doorframe.

Garrick Tavis.

Heart pounding, I stare in open shock, wondering if this is a dream. Maybe I fell asleep by the fire and I’ll wake up soon to find that he’s not actually here.

Garrick’s eyes burn into me as he whispers my name like a prayer that’s been answered. The way he’s looking at me… It’s as if I’m air and he’s drowning, dying to reach for me with his last breath. It’s intoxicating to behold.

This feels entirely too real to be a dream.

His nostrils flare as he takes in my attire. His gaze scorching my skin as he scans me, slowly, methodically. Memorizing me.

“Well, fuck me,” he mutters. “If this is how you greet me after a month, I should leave more often.”

No way in hell is this a dream.

I bolt forward, gripping his leathers by the collar to pull him through the wards— pulling him into our room.

Copying Xaden months ago, Garrick ensured when he was gone, I’d be safe in our room. Even he couldn’t get in without my permission. It was part of his many backup plans and safety precautions when it came to me.

“You’re the only important person in my life,” he had whispered against my skin many months ago after setting up the wards. “I have to keep you safe. Promise me you’ll be safe?”

And I’ve been keeping that promise. Every day, hoping he’ll come home to me and stay longer between each time he’s allowed leave back to Riorson house.

And like every time before, he’s back.

Once Garrick is through the wards and standing before me, we collide.

Lips and teeth crash together, tongues intertwining as Garrick wraps around me, holding me tight. I grip him just as hard as I kiss him. His lips, gods, his lips are everything. I’ve missed him far too much to waste any time.

He’s taller than me, being dubbed “the Big One” by Violet. I remember fully agreeing with her when she told me. The top of my head can barely reach his shoulders. So while he towers over me, I use my height to my advantage and touch every inch of his torso, ensuring he’s actually here. His broad shoulders. The edges of the mark on his skin seen above his leathers. His dark curls. Even the tan marks of his flight goggles.

Garrick breaks from the kiss first. When our eyes meet, we both smile wide and carefree. At the same time, we tear off his flight jacket, revealing his well-built frame covered in a tight shirt that outlines his rippling muscles.

Gods, I missed him.

He rips the robe from my shoulders, tossing it over his shoulder as he dives back in to kiss me. His hands gripping my waist as my fingers hold on to his biceps.

The feel of him sends electric shockwaves up my nerves. Everything is entirely familiar, but different. More than a month away from one another feels like an eternity as I reach to grip the back of his head, bringing him closer as his teeth bite my bottom lip.

I moan into his mouth, sliding my free hand beneath his shirt. Skating my fingertips across his abdomen till I get to the rim of his pants, Garrick sucks in a breath. I toy with the button, pulling until it gives.

Slowly, I slip my hands beneath his pants, skimming his briefs before my fingers meet warm, veiny skin. Garrick pants against me, my pulse racing alongside his as my hand grips his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans.

I leisurely take my time sliding my skin over his— teasing, taunting. Garrick’s hands shake as they move from my waist down to my hips, pulling me closer. When I get to the head of his cock, my mouth waters at the feel of precum already dripping from the tip. With my thumb, I smooth it over the skin, pumping my hand once, twice, another before he grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“Baby, I’ve waited too long to have you,” his voice rough with desperation. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

I smirk. “Maybe I want you to.”

He huffs a laugh. “I know you’d love that, but I’ve had enough lonely nights to last me for the last five weeks.” He suddenly moves me backwards until my back hits the wall. “I need you.”

He bends forward, kissing my forehead, before tracing his lips to my temple. I exhale when his lips move to my cheek, stopping to smirk into my skin.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I confess, breathing in the smell of him.

Garrick’s mouth glides across my jaw before hovering over my swollen lips. “I missed you too, love.”

Warmth spreads through my limbs like I’m soaking in the sun. He kisses me briefly, before moving his mouth to my jaw. Breath hitching when his teeth prick at my pulse before his tongue slides along my collarbone.

“This dress,” he breathes, making the exposed flesh of my skin pebble. “Gods, you’ll be the death of me.”

His teeth latch to the top of the lace, pulling the fabric downward until my breast is fully exposed. The air is cool against my heated skin as Garrick takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over my nipple. He sucks, long, deep, and hard before pulling gently with his teeth, making me gasp.

My head falls back, hitting the wall as I close my eyes, lost to the feel of his lips and teeth. His hand yanks the rest of the material down, a ripping sound filling the silence of the room.

“I’ll buy you twenty more pairs of this exact dress, I promise.”

I laugh at the breathless sound of his voice, smiling towards the ceiling as he begins to nip at my other breast. The lace dress falls from my shoulders, pooling at my feet.

In only my matching lace panties, I feel Garrick still against me. I look down to find he’s now kneeling, his face inches from my underwear, gazing up at me through his lashes.

“They were a set,” I wink.

Garrick’s pupils are wide as he looks down at the lace. “Fuck, I love you and your shopping habits so much.”

A belly laugh escapes me, causing Garrick to join in as he nuzzles my abdomen before tracing his fingers over the garment.

He whispers my name, like a siren call, and I meet those lust-filled hazel eyes as he places a gentle kiss on my stomach.

This is love. We’ve had plenty of dark days, but it’s these quiet moments, the ones where we can find the light in the dark, that matter the most. Every laugh, caress, and smile he gives me is a gift. I’ve never felt more adored and cherished than in his arms.

And right now? With his face inches from where I need him desperately, I know he’ll always come back to me, no matter how far he travels or how long he’s gone.

I’m his home as much as he is mine.

Garrick’s gaze softens. “I know,” he whispers, kissing my skin once more.

Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I want to cherish this with him, for as long as I can.

His rough fingers slide beneath the lace, pulling my underwear completely off, leaving me exposed before him. A shiver echoes up my spine as his hands grip the backs of my thighs.

“I’ve been as patient as I can be, baby. But now,” his fingers reach down to my ankles. “Be a good girl and put your legs over my shoulders. I need to taste you on my tongue.”

I practically choke as he helps lift me to sit on his shoulders, my pussy inches from his face.

“That’s perfect,” he praises, making my cheeks flush. His eyes sparkle as he stares at my core, no doubt seeing the glistening wetness trailing down my thighs.

“Now, ride my face.”

I obey his command as he lifts me further and sits me on his waiting mouth. His lips part, and I feel his tongue lick me in one long strip. Pleasure racks up my spine, my fingers flying to his hair to grip onto something. With his hands holding my legs and pressing me against the wall, he dives in like a man starved. Licking and sucking. Nipping and teasing. Stars fill my vision as my core begins to tighten.

“Garrick,” I moan, mg fingers pulling his curls. “Baby, I’m—“

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he keeps going with fervor. One of his hands leaves my thigh to slide up my leg to my pussy. Just as his lips tease my clit, his fingers replace them. Pressing down and squeezing, a tickling sensation begins in the pit of my stomach, growing bigger and bigger as my walls tighten around his tongue.

“I need your fingers,” I gasp. “Please.”

Garrick obliges. Two long, thick fingers slide inside me, making me pant at the pressure. His fingers and tongue work in tandem. Another squeeze, lick, and press of his fingers, and I’m already climbing higher and higher until—

“Garrick!” I cry out.

I can feel him smirk against me as I continue to shatter. Waves of ecstasy wash over me as I scream his name again and again, riding out my orgasm until I’m left feeling boneless. My head swims as Garrick gently moves my legs back to the floor.

I stare down at him, lungs still heaving breaths as I catch sight of his mouth glistening with my slick. His dimple curves just as his tongue swipes across his lips. My knees shake at the sight, but his hands are there, securing around my body as he hoists me against him.

With his hands around my torso and legs, he holds me firmly before winking down at me. He takes a step and in the next breath, we’re across the room, on the bed.

I giggle. “Using your signet to seduce me, Tavis?”

Garrick’s smirk widens as he lays me down on the mattress, his arms caressing my skin as he lets me settle into the comforter.

“I don’t need magic to seduce you,” he raises a brow. “You’re mine already.”

Reaching to touch his cheek, smoothing my thumb across his dimple, I give him a soft smile. “I’ll always be yours.”

He’s kissing me just as the words float in the air, blending with the moonlight. The dark enfolds us as he slips off his trousers and briefs, caging me with his naked body.

With one bruising kiss, I part my legs, feeling him settle between them. I glance between our bodies, a moan escaping me at the sight of his long, hard cock.

I missed this as much as I missed him.

The head of his dick lazily coats in my wetness, taunting and teasing. I writhe beneath his hulking body.

“You better get inside me right now, Garrick, or-“

He pushes into me, bottoming out in one long, heavy thrust.

“Fuck,” he groans into my mouth as my back arches, eyes rolling back at the pressure. I’m so full, it’s toeing the line between pleasure and pain. It’s everything.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he hushes against my skin as I whimper.

He still doesn’t move. I need him to move.

I shift my hips, forcing some sort of friction. He stills me with a large hand, encasing most of my hip with its width.

Lips meet my ear, breath tickling my hair. His voice is deep and rough with want as he whispers, “Will you beg for it?”

I nod, gasping and writhing. The inner muscles of my core clench, tightening over and over again around his unmoving cock.

Garrick kisses the skin beneath my ear before sitting up. While still sheathed within me, he towers over me, sitting back on his haunches. He brings my knees up the bed, bending them so I’m straddling his hips. He presses himself forward, angling his dick to be even deeper inside of me.

Holy shit, this angle.

“I don’t hear you begging.”

A whimper escapes me as I claw at his hands on my hips. “Please, Garrick, please!”

He smirks, that damn dimple shining down on me. A firm, calloused hand glides up my body until he gathers both of my straining hands. He holds them above my head, grasping my wrists together in one large palm, pressing them into the sheets. My back arches into the angle, sliding him even closer, further inside of me.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

I nod over and over again, still straining against his hold. The heat rising inside of me is unbearable, the need to feel his cock pump and thrust against my walls is all I can think about.

Garrick stares at me from above, his gaze hooded as he watches me pant. He tightens his hold on my wrists as his free hand grabs the top of my knee and pulls it to the side, before doing the same to the other. I obey, making them stay in the position he wants them.

As I stretch my knees outward, my eyes widen. With my knees bent at this angle, my pussy locks around Garrick’s cock, exposing my clit to the air. All the while, he watches in fascination, completely enraptured.

With a flick of his wrist, sharp, cool air touches my clit. It startles me, making me want to clamp my legs shut on instinct.

As I try to do just that, Garrick holds firm, staring at my exposed clit. “Let me take care of you. It’s okay, I’m just….experimenting.”

He meets my eyes with a wink before twisting his hand in the air to make the breeze choppier. Almost in a vibrating motion. Warmth and pressure build slowly as the vibrating keeps going, stimulating my clit in a way I’ve never experienced.

Just as it intensifies, Garrick begins to thrust inside of me. Thank fuck. My head snaps back, a cry falling from my lips.

“There you go, baby,” he pumps faster, deeper. “You take me so well.”

Sweat builds at my temple just as his hand releases my hips, allowing me to meet him with every thrust. We moan together as pressure builds, the air he’s still bending around my clit is now flowing faster.

“Garrick,” I whine, my voice full of warning.

He nods, smiling. “I know, I’m right behind you.”

The air vibrating against my clit suddenly disappears. His fingers slip down from my caged hands, releasing them, to touch my clit, keeping me stimulated.

He thrusts, using my knees as leverage to pull me into him roughly. I grip the sheets, holding on as I feel myself cresting that wave once more.

“Come for me, love.”

I shatter with a cry, my voice straining as it echoes. My walls pulse and flutter, again and again, as his cock pounds into me. He soon follows with a roar, bending down so his lips find mine, groaning into my mouth as he fills me.

The entire time he spills inside of me, he whispers, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over again.

I’m drunk off the feeling of him when we finally both come down from our highs. Gasping for breath, Garrick falls on top of me, spent. I laugh beneath him, shoving him playfully.

“I can’t breathe!”

He groans. “Gods, I missed fucking you.”

I kiss his sweaty temple, warmth filling my chest as he gives short, simple kisses to my collarbone.

“Just that?” I tease.

“Don’t even joke.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head before rolling off of me, lying back on our bed.

He drags me with him, cradling me in the nook of his arms. His bare chest against the skin of my cheek brings so many memories of the past few years, it floods me with nostalgia.

How we met on the mat at Basgiath our first year, his mouth and eyebrow bleeding as he let me beat him into the mat. When he later brought me a bag of ice to help the bruise on my ribs, I knew I was a goner. His stupid dimple melted me as he showed me how to forget the pain by telling bad jokes and obviously flirting with me. It worked. And now, I can’t imagine not ever being his.

A sense of rightness settles within my chest. Garrick is finally home, after so long apart. He’s alive and he’s here with me.

“I’m happy you’re back,” I whisper against his skin.

I feel him kiss the top of my head as his hand strokes my arm. “You’re my home. I’ll always come back to you.”

Warm, comfortable silence settles over the room as we memorize one another’s breaths. Reveling in the feel of our heartbeats. Being here, together, is all we’ll ever need.

friday night. 

jimin’s voice rings through the chaos of the small, but somehow always too crowded, apartment. it’s filled with people yet jimin’s squeaky yapping is the loudest thing in jungkook’s ear.

“stop freaking out!” jimin cries, dodging around taehyung, who’s already got a hand to his forehead like he’s holding back a migraine. “bro, you look fine.”

“but what if this is the wrong shirt?” jungkook whines, his brows knit together, tugging at the hem of the plain black tee he’s been second-guessing for the last hour and a half.

taehyung groans, dramatic as ever. “what if i hit you right now?”

“what if you go kill yourself—”

before jungkook can finish, the sound of liquid splashing against fabric cuts him off. the liquor spreads fast and drips down his shirt.

jungkook takes a deep breath in.

“oops,” jimin says, not even trying to hide the grin as his tequila splatters all over jungkook’s chest. “now you have to change. you’re welcome.”

“you—!” jungkook starts, eyes narrowing like he’s about to lunge.

“do it,” taehyung interrupts, his grin lazy, sharp, and mean in a way that only jungkook’s closest friends can manage. “before ___ walks in and sees you covered in alcohol. how’s that for a first impression, mr. perfect?”

jungkook shoots both of them a glare, muttering curses under his breath as he storms off toward his room, the familiar bubble of frustration fizzing in his chest.

god. 

tonight, out of all nights; he’s spiraling. really—because how could they not see how serious this all is? 

you’re coming over. 

you. 

st4rg1rlyni3. 

… and since this is your first time meeting… he has to get it right. he has to at least look good. presentable. maybe even… handsome.

once jungkook reaches his room, he pulls open his closet door with more force than necessary. the shirts hang neatly—too neatly—because he reorganized them this morning, just in case you’d... what? wander in here and look inside his closet?

he groans at himself, grabbing the first thing that doesn’t make him want to scream, a striped blue button-up he swore he wouldn’t wear tonight.

as he shrugs the shirt over his shoulders, he’s halfway through tugging it down—arms trapped in the fabric, mid-struggle—when his door creaks open.

his heart stalls. freezes, really, like his whole body is buffering.

because it’s you.

you’re standing there, hand still on the doorknob, looking as though you hadn’t expected to walk in on this exact moment—but you’re also clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

“oh.” your voice comes out light, amused. you glance down at your phone for a second before back up at him, a brow raising. “taehyung said the bathroom was—hmmm. okay. i get it.”

jungkook is acutely aware of every awkward detail: his hair sticking up from all his stressed-out fidgeting, the half-buttoned shirt that’s probably wrinkled by now, the way his mouth is hanging slightly open because he still hasn’t figured out what to say.

“um...” it’s the best he can manage, voice a little cracked.

your smile grows, softening the edges of the moment. 

“nice shirt.”

he stares at you, feels his cheeks flush a little hotter. because of course you’d show up looking this good, all easy confidence and effortless charm, while he’s here feeling like a walking disaster. your hair is curled in such an effortless way that truly scratches his brain. you’re wearing a baby pink dress that tugs your curves perfectly. 

truth be told, he was just talking shit about the colour pink. 

seeing it on you? 

yeah. it’s his favourite colour now too—

that’s when jungkook realizes he’s been silent for a minute too long. you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for a response.

“thanks,” he finally blurts, so fast it sounds like one word. then he clears his throat, scrambling to add, “just—uh, just picked it.”

your gaze lingers on him, a smile tipping into something dangerously close to teasing. 

“what’s… with the awkwardness? am i prettier than you expected?”

his breath hitches, and you swear you catch the faintest blush coloring his cheeks. but jungkook recovers quickly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.

“the issue was never if you were pretty. you are pretty. there’s no denying that,” he admits, his voice steady yet soft. “it’s your attitude.”

your brow arches, feigning offense. 

“what attitude? i just got here.”

“that one,” he says, gesturing vaguely as if you radiate something he can’t quite put into words.

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “oh, so we’re acting like we didn’t just celebrate seven days of talking with cake? like you aren’t completely obsessed with me—”

“okay, miss disliker.”

“mr. vlog dedicator.”

“weren’t you mad at me a few days ago for muting when i peed?”

“yeah. i can admit to that. if i made peeing videos, you’d watch them, right? can you admit to that?”

jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, a nervous habit you’ve started to notice, and inhales sharply through his nose. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and for a moment, his gaze drops to the floor like he’s trying to gather himself.

the air stills.

“sorry,” he finally breathes, his voice low and almost unsure. “seeing you in person… god, i don’t know how to act right now. i’m sorry, baby.”

his words settle over you, warm and sweet, sinking into the spaces you didn’t know were waiting to be filled. your stomach tightens, flipping over itself, and you’re suddenly too aware of the way his voice dips when he calls you baby.

jungkook finishes buttoning up his shirt, his fingers fumbling slightly on the last button, and then he extends his hand toward you. 

“nice to meet you—”

but before he can finish, you reach out, wrapping your arms around his neck instead.

his entire body tenses for a split second, caught off guard before he melts into the embrace. his arms come around you, pulling you close, holding you tight.

you rest your chin on his shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. his cologne—something woodsy with just a hint of spice—wraps around you, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment.

why does this feel so right?

your hands flex against his back, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingertips. it’s overwhelming—how natural this feels, how easy it is to lean into him like this.

he exhales against your hair, his breath warm and steady now, and you can feel the tension draining from his body. you pull back slightly, your arms still looped around his neck, and meet his gaze. there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, maybe, or hesitation—but it’s quickly swallowed by a softness that tugs at your chest.

his hands slide down to rest on your waist, grounding you in place. “hi.”

you blink, your stomach flipping again as his words settle in. he’s staring at you like you’re the only person in the room, and it’s almost too much to bear.

“hi.”

“i’m really nervous, to be honest. jimin and tae have been eating up my anxiety and i’m… i’ve embrassed myself in front of you already so what the hell?” he says, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly. “you’ve been in my head. and now… now you’re here, and i don’t know what to do with myself.”

you smile softly, trying to keep things light despite the way your heart is racing. 

“excited much?”

he laughs, the sound warm and a little breathless. “only a little.”

you don’t know who moves first, but somehow, you find yourself leaning in, his forehead pressing gently against yours. his eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, the world outside fades into nothingness.

“you smell nice,” he murmurs, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the ghost of his breath.

“so do you.”

he chuckles, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “this feels too perfect,” he whispers, almost like he’s afraid saying it out loud will break the spell.

your stomach flips again, and you’re suddenly so aware of everything—his hands on your waist, the warmth radiating off his body, the way his lips hover just a breath away from yours.

“then don’t ruin it,” you tease, your smile growing.

he grins, leaning back just enough to meet your eyes, and for a moment, you’re both caught in the weight of everything unsaid.

“not a chance,” he says, his voice steady now. 

you believe him.

the night feels like a dream. 

not the kind you forget the second you wake up, but the kind you spend the rest of the day reliving, hoping to hold onto every detail.

jungkook’s mind is filled with you.

every time he looks at you, touches you, or hears you—he can’t help but feel like his heart is beating outside of his chest. it’s so strange and love has never felt this way—so intense and real… so fast. 

you’re witty in a way that makes his chest ache, sharp without being mean, playful but never overbearing. he can’t remember the last time someone teased him, really teased him, without making him feel small. you make it fun—safe, even.

and god, you’re beautiful. 

not in the way he thought before, through screens and pictures, but in a way that’s... more. the kind of beauty that makes him feel like he should thank someone—maybe you, maybe the universe—for the chance to be here, breathing the same air as you.

he notices the way hobi smirks when he catches jungkook staring at you too long. the way taehyung elbows him whenever you laugh at one of his dumb jokes. the way jimin whispers “she likes you, idiot” every time you brush past him, your shoulder grazing his.

it’s obvious. 

to everyone. 

and apparently, to you too, because you’ve joined in. 

you’re teasing him just as much as his friends, your words sharp and deliberate in a way that keeps him on his toes. it’s almost unbearable, the way you make him feel like a little kid with a crush, heart pounding and cheeks burning every time you look his way.

and then, in the middle of it all, he snaps. 

not in a bad way, but in the way you’d snap a rubber band to bring yourself back to reality. he steps closer, his hand finding your waist, his fingers curling just slightly.

“can i show you something?”

your brows lift, curiosity flickering across your face. you nod. 

“sure.”

jungkook leads you to his room, the chaos of the party fading behind you. his fingers brush yours as he walks ahead, close enough to touch but not quite. it’s deliberate, like he’s trying to keep his cool but failing miserably.

once you're in his room, he gestures towards his balcony.

you two step out and it's this set up of a cozy and quiet escape. there are string lights wrapped around the railing, a single blanket draped over the chair, and the view—god, the view is stunning.

the city stretches out like it’s alive, blinking lights and faint noises making it feel infinite.

“i fought for this room,” jungkook brags, leaning against the doorframe. “tae wanted it, but i beat him in an arm wrestling match.”

you laugh softly, stepping out onto the balcony.

“it’s worth the fight.”

“it is.”

he doesn’t mean the room, though.

you settle into the blanket he hands you, the conversation flowing into something softer, deeper.

“it's been a few hours already but... it’s still so weird seeing you in person,” he admits, his voice quieter now, like he’s letting himself be vulnerable. “i feel like... i’ve known you my entire life. it feels...”

“different?” you offer, your gaze steady on him.

he nods, his lips curving into a small smile. “in a good way."

“in a good way." you echo.

with that, you two settle in to each others presence. looking out at the view and laughing at each others lame jokes. for two sociable people, you two sure love your space from everyone... perhaps, it's because you're with the one.

as the conversation drifts, eventually, jungkook asks, “so... the anon thing. have you figured out who it is yet?”

you shrug, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“no, not really. hobi told me to take it slow. to focus on myself for now.”

“what does that mean for... you know.” his voice drops, suddenly shy. “your content.”

another shrug.

“i’m not sure. i don’t know if i want to keep going, but... i don’t think i have any other options.”

he frowns, leaning forward. “what do you mean by that?”

you hesitate, your fingers tracing the edge of the blanket. “i don’t really know what i am these days, to be honest with you.”

that's the plain truth.

you haven't really admitted it to anyone... honestly? hardly to yourself... but for some reason, it just came out. for a moment you think; maybe this is dangerous. trusting someone so fast and feeling how natural it is to say the hard things...

then, there’s a beat of silence before he speaks.

“that’s okay.” jungkook voice is steady, sure. “not knowing is okay. being you is enough.”

you blink, startled by the simplicity of his words.

they hit harder than you expected, settling somewhere deep. it’s strange, feeling so understood by someone you’ve only just met.

the moment is broken by the buzz of jungkook’s phone. he checks it, lips quirking into a smile.

“jimin says everyone went to the pool.”

he stands, holding out a hand. “come on.”

jungkook leads you to the rooftop pool. 

the rooftop is alive with soft laughter and the sound of water splashing, but all of it fades when you step out hand-in-hand with jungkook.

every set of eyes shifts to where your fingers are intertwined, lingering just a second too long before darting to his face, then back to yours. you feel your cheeks heat up, suddenly shy… but you two don’t let go. instead, you hold his hand even tighter. 

instinctively, you move slightly behind him, but jungkook isn’t having it.

he pulls you forward gently, his hand sliding to your waist, keeping you anchored there. 

for fucks sake… the prettiest girl at the party is with him. why would he hide this? why wouldn’t he boast?

“do you guys swim often?” you ask, trying to deflect from the weight of their teasing stares.

jungkook shrugs, playing it cool. “only when i wanna vlog and get your attention.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “right… because you just hate it when people only like you for your body?”

he nods, lips twitching into a grin. “exactly. oh, you so get me—”

“hate to break it to you,” taehyung interrupts, draping an arm around jungkook’s neck, “but posting thirst traps isn’t exactly original content.”

“what does that make me?” you quip, arching a brow.

taehyung shrugs, also playing it cool. “jungkook said he’d beat me up if I ever click your links.”

you snort, covering your mouth to hide your laugh.

“oh, come on,” taehyung continues, pulling at the hem of jungkook’s shirt, threatening to lift it. “jungkooookieee… go for a swim and do the whole romantic wet hair look. she’ll love it.”

“shut up—”

“no, seriously! right, ___?” taehyung calls over his shoulder, his grin mischievous. “you’ll love it, right?”

before you can answer, jimin comes barreling in, teaming up with taehyung to ambush jungkook. they shove him into the pool, their laughter echoing as jungkook resurfaces, glaring at them.

you step to the edge, watching as the three of them wrestle and splash around in the water. hobi appears beside you, crossing his arms with a knowing smile.

“this is gonna get worse before it gets better,” he teases, nudging you lightly.

you kneel by the pool, your gaze following jungkook as he swims to where you’re crouched. his wet hair clings to his forehead, and there’s a boyish charm in the way he grins up at you.

he’s breathtaking like this. 

wet hair curling just enough to look messy, droplets sliding down the sharp line of his jaw, catching faint glimmers of the rooftop lights. his shirt clings to him, fabric plastered to every dip and ridge of his body, leaving nothing to the imagination—not that it matters. you’ve spent enough time watching him online to know every detail by heart, but this is different. 

you swallow hard, a little lightheaded. 

“help me up,” he says, holding his hand out.

“no.”

his grin falters. “what? why not—”

“you’re gonna pull me in.”

“no, i won’t.”

“yes, you are.”

“how do you know?”

“i know you.”

jungkook tilts his head, his grin returning as he leans his arms on the pool edge. “oh? you think you’ve got me figured out, huh?”

you smirk. “don’t i?”

“you don’t,” he challenges, wiggling his fingers. “come on. trust me.”

against your better judgment, you give him your hand. the second his fingers close around yours, you know you’ve made a mistake.

“jungkook, don’t—”

but it’s too late. 

he tugs you in, and the cold water shocks you, stealing the air from your lungs. you bob to the surface, pushing your hair out of your face, only to see him laughing like a kid who just got away with a prank.

you splash him. “you’re the worst!”

“am i?” he teases, swimming closer.

you’re still laughing when he scoops you up under the water, holding you bridal style. he hums, grinning down at you. “saved you.”

“you pulled me in.”

“okay, fine. i pulled you in.”

“you give in easily.” you tease, splashing water to his face. jungkook squints, taking the splash. before you can say anything else, he defends himself with a few words that make your stomach turn again. 

“how am i supposed to argue with a pretty girl like you?”

back in his room, jungkook has a hoodie and a pair of sweats laid out for you. he’s drying off with a towel when you step out of his bathroom, his clothes hanging loose on you.

he pauses mid-motion, the towel draped over his shoulder as his eyes take you in. “you look better in my clothes than i do,” he teases, his voice dipping just slightly.

“gross.”

he grins, leaning against the dresser. “i’m serious. i might have to start hiding my hoodies.”

“please. you’d hand them over without a fight.”

“not true.”

you roll your eyes, stepping closer. without a word, you take the towel from his shoulder and start drying his hair. he freezes for a moment, caught off guard, before leaning into your touch.

your fingers work through his damp hair, your eyes inadvertently drifting to his lips. the air between you feels heavier now, thick with something unsaid. jungkook tilts his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to your eyes.

he leans in—so close, you can feel his breath on your skin—and then stops himself, pulling back just enough to create a sliver of space.

“i... i’m gonna wait,” he says, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“for?”

jungkook exhales, dragging a hand through his half-dry hair, the strands falling back into a soft, messy tangle that makes your stomach flip. the towel around his neck shifts as he fidgets with it, like it’s the only thing grounding him right now. 

“i don’t know,” he murmurs, voice quiet, like the words aren’t fully formed yet. “i want to show you i’m patient. i want to show you that i’m a good man. i am... so...” his eyes flicker to yours, holding your gaze for a beat too long, raw and unguarded. “let’s go? i’ll drive you home and hold your hand the entire way.”

you tilt your head, biting back a smile. 

“you’re really not going to kiss me right now?”

his lips twitch into a soft laugh, dimples pressing into his cheeks as his shoulders relax.

“i just want you to know that you’re perfect for me,” he says, his tone so sincere it makes your breath catch. “i want to be perfect for you... and it’s hard when i’m losing my patience. if i kiss you right now…” he hesitates, his voice dipping lower, “i won’t stop.”

you lean forward, close enough to catch the faintest scent of his cologne mingling with chlorine. 

“okay, i get it. you wanna be a good boy. fine by me…” you whisper, your lips brushing the air between you. “you’re right. maybe you shouldn’t kiss me tonight—as a matter of fact—don’t.”

his brows lift, the corner of his mouth curving into a grin that feels dangerously addictive. 

“really?”

“yeah.” your smile widens as you lean just a little closer, your nose nearly grazing his. “i like making people wait.”

his grin deepens, the heat in his gaze undeniable. 

“yeah?”

“yeah. i like it because it usually leads to begging.”

and then, before he can respond, you close the distance—not to his lips, but to his cheek, pressing the softest kiss there. when you pull back, jungkook's stunned expression is almost too satisfying.