N i k s ( N i - k i ‘ s r o c k ☆ ) @nik1okrock - Tumblr Blog

nik1okrock

nikiiienha

May 22

cutehoons02

Camp love

*pairing: popular pervy-boy Niki x animator Girl

*trope: bad boy x good girl-roommates

*synopsis: Montana is the state where the most beautiful summer camps of all are held, every year hundreds of children couldn't wait to spend three months away from their families to stay at a summer camp cooking marshmallows, hiking the various nature trails, and swimming in the campus's natural pools. You too had been through all these experiences from your 10s until you were 15 and now that you were of age you would have become an entertainer but you hadn't counted on something that would be on summer campus too Niki, Niki was the classic “bad boy” of the town with all the girls at his feet and with petty crimes caused as a ‘joke’. But what if Niki had to be sent to work as an entertainer on summer campus for “punishment” and you, the classic good girl with zero experience in boys, had to share a room with him? A disaster from day one you can't get along with him but between bonfires with marshmallows, dives in ice water and confessions under the stars maybe the idea of spending 3 months on summer campus with Niki wasn't so bad

*word count: 34k

*tags: At first Y/n and Niki can't stand each other, they love teasing each other, first kiss (many kisses) fluffy, Niki may seem a little bit of an asshole but then becomes obsessed but in a good way with Y/n, masturbation, discovery of spicy books, loss of virginity (protected sex) there will be misunderstandings, jealousy, +18, tattoo kisses, love statement, pet names (good girl, wren)

The sky above Camp Montana was a blue so deep it almost looked unreal, the mountains in the distance veiled by a soft haze. The chirping of birds lulled you into relaxation, while the gentle lapping of waves against the shore in front of the common room’s porch gave the place an air of tranquility, though in just a few hours, it would transform into a bustling summer camp, teeming with kids eager to find their cabins and meet the friends who would share the secrets of a summer unlike any other.

Camp Montana was one of the most famous summer camps in the stat and beyond with hundreds of kids signing up months in advance for an unforgettable experience. As a child, you were one of them: not just another little girl with dirt-streaked braids and scraped knees, but now, an animator. You wore the iconic red Camp Montana hoodie, the eagle emblem emblazoned on the chest, your name stitched beside it. Your jeans bore the camp’s logo, and you carried all the gear and perks that came with the role, everything you’d dreamed of as a kid.

Back then, this place was pure magic. You’d spend nights by the campfire under a sky full of stars, sticky fingers wrapped around half-burnt marshmallows. You’d race through the woods with your friends, laughter echoing across the lake as you leaped from inflatables into the water. It was the place where you dreamed of growing up, of wearing that hoodie, of being loved by the kids just like your favorite animators—women you still remembered fondly.

But now? Now, Camp Montana was different. Now, there were responsibilities of every kind: comforting homesick children, reassuring worried parents over the phone, pulling night shifts to make sure no one snuck out of the cabins. There were judgmental glances from the other animators, whispers, and gossip slithering between the bungalows. You’d expected a peaceful summer, but life had other plans. Maybe fate was playing a cruel trick on you—or perhaps, the most beautiful one of your life.

The common room at Camp Montana was a massive wooden space, its walls covered in faded photos of summers past, some of them featuring you, with your childhood braids and braces. Colorful flags hung from the ceiling, each one signed with the names of past animators. The air was thick with the scent of coffee, freshly baked butter cookies, and burning wood. On one side, there were industrial kitchens and long tables where chaotic, noisy meals were served every day. On the other hand, a small loft where the camp president a man in his sixties with a stern, gray-bearded face was outlining the rules on a flip chart, rules that would govern the next three months, especially the ones animators were forbidden to break.

Lia, one of your closest friends: someone you’d spent countless summers with at camp, sat beside you, legs crossed, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she read aloud the "Forbidden Things for Camp Animators" written in bold red on the board:

FORBIDDEN THINGS FOR CAMP ANIMATORS:

Swimming in the lake after 10:00 PM (seriously dangerous without a lifeguard on duty).

Alcohol or drugs (zero tolerance anyone caught using drugs will be expelled immediately).

Outside guests (no bringing in boyfriends/girlfriends).

Smoking in common areas (there are two designated smoking zones—check the camp maps).

Public arguments (keep your drama private, not in front of the kids).

Abandoning your shift (if you’re on duty, you stay on duty until your shift ends).

Bringing weapons (this is a summer camp—parents expect their kids to be safe).

Damaging nature (we’re here to teach kids to respect the environment—no cutting trees, littering, etc.).

You studied the rules carefully. Most of them were reasonable, but Lia didn’t seem to agree.

"Listen to this, Y/n," she whispered, pointing at the first rule. "‘No swimming in the lake after 10:00 PM.’ Pfft! We all did it! Remember when we used to sneak out at night and dive in, then run back screaming like maniacs?" She giggled, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing. Yes, even though you’d always been seen as the "good girl," the studious one, you’d had your share of rebellious moments at 16 or 17—moments you now carried in your heart.

"Yeah, but we’re animators now, Lia," you reminded her, nudging her gently. "We’re here to work, have fun, and most importantly set a good example for the kids."

Lia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! Give it a week, and 99% of us will have broken every single rule. Look around, half these people are just here to escape their parents, hook up in the bungalows, and have a summer they’ll tell their future kids about in a few years."

Before you could respond, the door to the common room swung open. It couldn’t be the kids, they weren’t arriving yet. Instead, what you saw—what everyone saw—was a head of bleached-blond hair with dark roots, broad shoulders, and a towering height of at least 1.95 meters. His expressive eyes and lips were the kind every girl in the room would dream of kissing. Niki because that’s who it was ducked slightly to fit through the doorway, as if even the entrance had to adjust for him. He walked toward the group of animators with an arrogant confidence that sent shivers down spines, and every girl in the room gasped:

"Oh my God..."

"Is that....?"

"It can’t be him."

You turned away sharply, trying not to look, but Lia’s eyes widened, and she elbowed you. "What the hell is Niki doing here?!" she hissed, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "Wasn’t he supposed to be doing community service for that mess with the stolen cars? Everyone knows he organized those illegal races during the Cowboy Festival!"

You shrugged, feigning indifference, even though your heart was pounding. Unfortunately, you knew Niki. You’d grown up in the same small town, gone to the same university, you studied child psychology while he leaned into the arts, photography, and drawing.

I have no idea," you muttered, biting your nail. "But one thing’s for sure: that guy is a walking disaster. He can’t be an animator here with all these kid —he’s a ticking time bomb."

Niki sat down two rows ahead of you, crossing his long legs with effortless nonchalance. You clenched your fists as he tilted his head slightly, his signature cowboy hat—now in a "baggy style"—shadowing his face. The president glared at him with open disdain, clearly afraid Niki would bring trouble to this little slice of paradise.

The president clapped his hands loudly and cleared his throat into the microphone. "Alright, now that all our camp animators have graced us with their presence, we can begin!" His voice was sharp, dripping with sarcasm. "As you know, every year, we pair you up for teams and bungalows. Each bungalow has two single beds, a small reading area, a mini kitchen, a bathroom, and a porch with a hammock. Some overlook the lake, others the mountains, and some are near the kids’ cabins. The pairs are mixed—it’s been a tradition for years, and we’ve never had issues with boys and girls sharing. You’re all adults and responsible, so I trust you’ll have a great time with your new roommate. Now, let’s announce the pairs!"

You glanced at Lia, who rested her head on your shoulder and smirked. "I’d bet anything we’re rooming together, but we both know that’s not happening." You nodded, already resigned. A murmur spread through the room.

"I’d pay gold to be paired with Niki!" a red-haired girl shrieked. "I want Keeho!" another yelled, eyeing the guy sitting next to Niki. "Joshua’s mine!" another chimed in, her English flawless.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever chaos was about to unfold.

The camp president scrolled through countless slides on the interactive whiteboard, and with each new slide, your stomach twisted tighter. For what felt like an eternity, your name and photo refused to appear. As anxiety clawed at you—like it always did—you started gnawing at the nail of your index finger, eyes locked on the screen. It was as if the blank slide delighted in torturing you, flashing one animator pairing after another, but never yours.

Then, your name blared through the speakers, just a little too loud.

"Y/n will be paired with Niki for the next three months in Bungalow 20," the president announced, his gaze almost pitying as it landed on you.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. There, on the screen, was your photo—smiling, the picture of the "girl next door"—paired with Niki’s. If you’d had a permanent marker, you would’ve drawn giant horns on his head and a ridiculous mustache over that smirking mouth of his. It was a low blow, no, a cruel joke from fate. The president must’ve had a twisted sense of humor, or maybe he was just a sadist, delighted at the thought of turning your summer into the worst one of your life.

Lia, your so-called best friend 'the traitor' started patting your head sympathetically, but it didn’t take long for her to dissolve into giggles.

"Well, look on the bright side," she whispered, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "If you survive three months living with him, your psychology thesis will write itself. Either that, or you’ll end up in the news as an accomplice in some illegal drift racing scandal. Either way, Y/n, you’ll be legendary."

You shot her a glare and buried your face in your hands, feeling your ears burn. "I hate you," you mumbled. "This is a nightmare. He’s literally the one person in all of Montana I wouldn’t even want to share an elevator with, let alone a bungalow for three months."

With that, you bolted up, grabbed your things, and stormed out, avoiding everyone’s eyes—especially his. You could feelNiki two rows ahead, smirking, that infuriating grin plastered on his face. You lugged your bags with a strength you didn’t know you had, marching toward the upper part of the camp until you reached Bungalow 19… and then, Bungalow 20.

And Bungalow 20 was objectively perfect.

If it weren’t for your soon-to-be roommate, you might’ve cried with joy. The bungalow sat on a small hill, its wooden porch complete with a hammock big enough for more than two people. The view of the lake was straight out of a National Geographic postcard, and the mountain ridges stretched across the horizon. You pouted at how beautiful Montana could be, then dragged your suitcase—heavy as if you’d packed a corpse inside up the steps and threw open the door to your new home.

The interior was cozy, with a scent of vanilla. On the table, two shiny new badges gleamed in the afternoon light, beside a basket of warm butter-vanilla cookies a welcome gift from the camp kitchen. Next to it, a letter with the camp’s official stamp and the president’s signature. You skimmed it:

The animator pairs hadn’t been chosen at random. No, the president had studied each of you carefully, spending days crafting the "perfect" pairings. You were cautious, level-headed, someone who hated lying and taking risks. Niki, on the other hand, was cunning, self-serving, and always looking for a challenge. "You’re the sun, and he’s the storm," the letter read. "You’ll balance each other out."

You couldn’t believe what you’d just read. You wanted to crumple the paper into a ball and hurl it into the lake, but you knew Niki would have to read it too. So, like the good girl you were, you slapped it back onto the table and shoved a cookie into your mouth, chewing angrily as you stormed into the bedroom.

The beds were too close: both queen-sized, separated only by a flimsy nightstand. You claimed the one by the window, thinking that if either of you stretched out an arm in the night, you’d probably touch. You shook your head, muttering to yourself as you unzipped your suitcase and started unpacking. For twenty minutes, the world almost felt normal. You could hear the distant sounds of other animators unpacking, laughter echoing from nearby bungalows, the gentle lapping of waves against the lake’s rocky shore, and the chirping of birds. Normally, these sounds would’ve soothed you.

But peace wasn’t going to last.

The bungalow door creaked open, and the thud of Niki’s leather duffel bag hitting the floor told you one thing: your peace was officially over. The longest three months of your life were about to begin.

He strode toward Bungalow 20, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes in that defiant, street-meets-prairie style of his. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how his life had turned into some cheesy teen movie. He and his friends had planned to leave Montana for a couple of months a road trip through California, Oregon, all the way up to Canada. But then, surprise, he’d been caught behind the wheel of a stolen, tricked-out car, drifting like an idiot after watching one of his best friends win the world rodeo championship. It had been a stupid move, and his parents had bailed him out—literally—paying his bond for the joyride with stolen cars. He’d expected to end up picking up trash on the side of the road or serving meals at a soup kitchen. Instead, fate had other plans.

And now here he was, strolling through a summer camp, sentenced to three months of untouched nature, suffocating rules, and an endless horde of screaming kids as a counselor. When the town—and his parents—had first suggested it, he’d laughed in their faces. Him, babysitting a bunch of rule-breaking brats (just like he’d been)? No thanks. But here he was, and the cherry on top of this absurd sundae? You.

You were the classic good girl of the town: mayor’s daughter, straight-A student, the kind of girl every mom dreamed of for their wayward sons. The thought of spending three goddamn months with you made him want to punch something. But at the same time, it intrigued him. Because even good girls had secrets, and he was dying to uncover yours.

When he pushed open the bungalow door, the contrast hit him like a slap. The air smelled of vanilla, butter, and cherry—sickeningly sweet, almost too clean, the exact opposite of his own scent of mint and spice, the kind that lingered even from a mile away. He dropped his duffel with a heavy thud onto the wooden floor. His eyes landed on the vanilla-butter cookies left by the kitchen staff, the note reading, "Made with all the love for our favorite new counselors." He rolled his eyes, then spotted the president’s letter. As he read it aloud, his expression shifted from shock to amusement. The letter praised you like some saint, while it described him as if he were a seven-headed monster. He shook his head, laughing at how surreal this whole situation was.

With half a cookie still in his mouth, he walked into the bedroom. You were bent over, meticulously arranging your tank tops with a precision that both irritated and fascinated him. He watched your wispy braids sway with every movement, and admitting it only to himself your body wasn’t half bad for someone who spent their life buried in books. The way your jeans hugged your hips, the way your tank top accentuated your chest—damn. He cleared his throat, unable to resist.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his smirk promising nothing but trouble. "If it isn’t Miss Braids herself...my roommate for the next three months."

You whipped around, glaring at him with a look that could’ve incinerated anyone else on the spot.

"Oh, joy," you snapped, your voice sharp as a blade. "I’m thrilled to share a room with a two-bit delinquent."

Niki chuckled, reaching out to brush his fingers over the cover of one of your classic novels Wuthering Heights, some psychological thriller he’d never even heard of. "Looks like even the library mouse knows all about my life."

You crossed your arms, lifting your chin in defiance. "I couldn’t care less about your life. In fact, the less I hear about it, the better. But we do live in a small town where gossip spreads, and unfortunately, my dad’s the mayor, so I’ve had to listen to more about your stupid antics than I’d like."

You took him in, your lips curling into a slight pout. Niki had an undeniable aura intimidating, yet magnetic. He was the kind of guy you didn’t forget easily, and that annoyed you even more.

Niki sighed, ignoring your jab, and flopped onto his bed. The wooden frame groaned under his weight—all 6’5” of muscle and arrogance seemed almost too much for the half-queen mattress. He stretched lazily, the movement hitching his oversized hoodie up just enough to reveal a sliver of golden skin and the waistband of his Playboy boxers peeking out from his low-slung jeans. You knew Niki had his own style, and you couldn’t deny even to yourself—that it wasn’t entirely unappealing. Your eyes flickered there for just a millisecond, and he caught it. A victorious smirk spread across his lips.

"Your parents are gonna lose it when they find out their sweet little angel has to share a room with a ‘criminal’ for three months," he mused, touching his lips thoughtfully, shattering the brief peace.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. "They trust me and I won’t do anything reckless...or wrong in your presence."

You crossed your arms tighter beneath your chest, a defensive gesture that only drew Niki’s attention. In two quick strides, he closed the distance between you, towering over you with his imposing frame. The scent of spiced mint filled the air, thick and intoxicating.

"Mmm, we’ll see," he murmured, lowering his head near your ear. "If I were a parent, I wouldn’t be too comfortable knowing my daughter had to spend countless nights in my company, wren."

Your face flushed with anger and something else, something forbidden. You slapped his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric. "You’re just a lost cause, Niki and stop calling me wren!"

He let out a low, rough laugh as he headed toward the bathroom to unpack. "Never. We both know you’ll never outgrow me."

And there you stood, frozen in the middle of the room as the bathroom door clicked shut, your heart pounding, anger battling with an annoying, unwelcome rush of adrenaline.

A week had passed since the summer camp started, and if there were an award for patience, they should name a town square after you or better yet, erect an entire statue in your honor right in front of your hometown’s city hall. Sharing Bungalow 20 with Niki wasn’t just a challenge, it was a refined form of psychological torture. And for someone as naturally calm and patient as you, he made every day harder than the last.

Problem number one? Sleep. You loved slipping between the sheets at a decent hour—okay, maybe you were a little too fond of going to bed early. By 9 PM, you could already be drifting off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the stream outside. But Niki had other plans. Let’s just say he forgot to mention one tiny detail: he suffered from insomnia. Watching you fall asleep in five minutes flat had thrown him off because he was a night owl. He’d stay awake until 2 AM, whistling, spinning his phone between his fingers, or sketching with the music blasting. You’d politely suggested he could stay outside there were comfy puff chairs or even a hammock but he’d just smirked and said, "No thanks, I’d rather not get eaten by a bear."

And then there was the issue of tidiness. The word "order" didn’t exist in Niki’s vocabulary or maybe it did, but he took great pleasure in driving you insane. You weren’t a neat freak, but you at least tried not to turn the room into a refugee camp. The bungalow wasn’t huge just a wooden entrance table, a cushioned bench with big windows overlooking the clearing, a tiny sitting area, and an open space with your two beds and a bathroom (which, admittedly, was bigger than necessary, and you weren’t complaining about that).

Niki, on the other hand, scattered his oversized hoodies everywhere like he was marking his territory. And don’t even get started on his razors left on the sink. "For the two stray hairs on your face, you could at least put them away!" you’d yelled one morning, but he’d just flashed that infuriating smirk while shaving his cheek.

But the final straw was the ID card prank. Every counselor had to carry theirs to access camp areas, and one morning, yours had vanished—poof, like magic. You were in full-blown panic, tearing the place apart: under the bed, between books, in the bathroom, under the bench. Then Niki leaned against the doorframe, watching you huff and mutter, that annoying smile playing on his lips.

"Looking for this, Princess?" he asked, dangling the ID card from his index finger.

You lunged to grab it, but he lifted his arm, using all of his 195 centimeters to keep it out of reach. You glared as you hopped uselessly, trying to snatch it.

"You know," he murmured, letting you nearly collide with his chest as you jumped, "you should keep it somewhere safer… maybe pinned right here…" He tapped the neckline of your tank top with the edge of the card, watching your cheeks flush pink. He’d discovered he loved seeing your round cheeks turn every shade of red, and without another word, he draped it around your neck, letting it fall against your chest. Then he winked and disappeared into the kitchen.

But the incident that truly made you snap happened one late afternoon. You’d just returned to the bungalow after an exhausting day of supervising dozens of kids screaming on the lake’s inflatables, your hair a disaster and your legs shaking with fatigue. Without a care in the world, you flung the door open, only to freeze.

Sitting on Niki’s bed was a girl, one of the sports group counselors, laughing hysterically at something he’d said. She was practically straddling him. You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly popped out, your face turning as red as a bell pepper—not from embarrassment, but from pure, unadulterated rage. You shot the girl a look that could’ve killed a grizzly bear.

When Niki gestured for her to leave like she’d never been there, you pointed a finger at him and snapped:

"It’s incredibly disrespectful to bring random people into our bungalow, especially at this hour when you know I come back exhausted! I’m seriously tired, I just want to shower and sleep, and instead, I walk in to find you doing… who knows what with that girl!" You crossed your arms, glaring, and Niki pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at how furious you were. He sat up, running a hand through his blond hair, and looked at you with an amused grin.

"What’s wrong, Shorty? You’re not… jealous, are you? I didn’t know the mayor’s daughter cared so much about my free time."

You shot him your worst glare. "Jealous? Of you?!" you scoffed, pointing at him. "Right now, I’m furious, not jealous! If you’re going to bring girls in here whenever you feel like it, then starting tomorrow, I’ll bring a guy in too, no, I’ll bring a different one every night!" You gestured to the bungalow, and Niki stiffened instantly. His jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscles in his neck tighten, and his gaze darkened, almost dangerous but only for a second. The next moment, he burst into laughter, flopping backward onto the bed.

"Why the hell are you laughing?!" you demanded, even angrier, but he just stretched out, taking up the entire bed with his endless legs, and looked at you with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

"Oh, this is rich! The girl with the braids—who I’m pretty sure has never been kissed in her life—wants to bring some random guy into our room! Go ahead, Y/n, you wouldn’t even know where to start."

Your cheeks burned a shade of red you’d never experienced before. Jabbing a finger at him, you hissed, "You don’t know the first thing about me, Niki!" Your voice trembled with indignation. You grabbed your robe and toiletries and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard the wooden walls of the bungalow shook.

Under the shower’s spray, you cursed him in every language you knew. But deep in your chest, your heart refused to calm down and you weren’t sure if it was from the insult or the way he’d looked at you when you’d mentioned bringing another guy in.

That morning, the soft Montana dawn light filtered through the curtains, bringing with it the usual chorus of birds and the steady murmur of the stream just a few meters from your bungalow. You would have given half your counselor’s salary to stay under the blankets for another ten minutes or maybe the whole morning because as a kid, you never truly realized how much work animators had behind the scenes. But duty called, and that week, you’d been assigned to fabric painting at 9:15 AM. So, with a lazy groan, you sat up, and just like every single morning since this nightmare began the first thing your eyes focused on was the occupant of the bed beside you.

Your gaze landed on Niki, a tangle of icy blond hair and heavy sighs. You noticed how his hair was slowly growing out, the dark roots of his natural color peeking through. His lips were slightly pouty in sleep, and he clutched the pillow beneath him like he was afraid someone might steal it. His thick eyebrows, usually furrowed in annoyance, were finally relaxed, making him look almost… innocent. Just a boy too big for a bed too small.

You knew he also had fishing duty at 9:15 AM, but after a week of stolen ID cards and jokes about how you embodied the "good girl" ideal, you decided your "act of kindness" would be letting him sleep. A wicked little smirk tugged at your lips as you thought, I could let him sleep… so he doesn’t wake up in time for the start of activities. You reached out to shake his shoulder but then stopped yourself. With a quiet chuckle, you muttered under your breath as you closed yourself in the bathroom, "Let him be late."

And so, you began your skincare ritual: slathering on pounds of sunscreen (because your skin had to stay flawless, even if you were going to sweat or get thrown into the water), adding a touch of self-tanner (since you still hadn’t achieved the exact shade of tan you wanted), and then pulling on your swimsuit, a T-shirt, athletic shorts, and braiding your hair as you finished, you noticed a stack of Post-its leaning against the mirror. You grabbed the pad and started decorating the bathroom mirror like it was a Christmas tree of warnings.

Green Post-it: I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORLD YOU LIVE IN, NIKI, BUT THERE’S SOMETHING CALLED A CLOSET FOR A REASON -> PUT YOUR HOODES IN THERE (Otherwise, the one on my chair is about to become a mop for the floor, and I don’t think you’d like that—especially since I know some of your hoodies cost as much as two months of our salary).

Blue Post-it: STOP PLAYING THOSE WAR GAMES AT 2 AM. Some people need to dream about things other than explosions and actually sleep peacefully. Try unplugging from those electronic gadgets and falling asleep to the sound of the stream and night crickets.

Yellow Post-it: TRY NOT TO USE MY SAKURA BODY WASH! I don’t think the scent of cherry blossoms helps your bad-boy reputation. What will the other girls think when they smell you reeking of girliness? They’ll just get even more jealous of me…

Orange Post-it: RAZORS HAVE A HOME. IT’S CALLED A ‘PERSONAL CABINET,’ NOT A ‘BATHROOM SINK DECORATION. Also, you’ve got, like, two stray hairs max, stop acting like you’re grooming a lion’s mane."

Pink Post-it: If you feel like breaking the next girl’s heart, don’t bring her into our room. I’d rather not see another girl leaving in tears because of you!

You checked the time: 8:15 AM. Niki hadn’t moved a millimeter, lost in a deep sleep that made him look almost… innocent. Almost, obviously. You grabbed the last Post-it before heading to breakfast and stuck it on the exit door. In your neat but determined handwriting, you wrote:

Oops, looks like your human alarm clock had a technical malfunction this morning or maybe just ‘forgot’ to share her air with you. Hope those five hours of sleep (well, six now) were enough, since you spend your nights doing everything but sleeping. I let you sleep, obviously, because I care’ and not at all because I wanted you to be late… (nope, not at all). Consider this my ‘welcome gift’… or maybe just proof that I can play dirty too, Niki. See you at the lake—if you can keep your eyes open and make it to roll call on time:)

Your favorite roommate:)

Niki was about to explode. He’d grown up with two other girls his age, and sure, there had been disagreements and fights, but you? You outdid them both. When his eyes finally opened and focused on the clock, his first thought wasn’t panic over being late it was a name spat like a curse between his teeth: "Y/n."

When he turned to see if you were still there, he found your bed perfectly made and rolled his eyes. He dragged himself out of bed, cursing you in every language he knew, because you two had an agreement or rather, you had established the rules, and he had grunted in assent, that you’d wake each other up but no, today you’d had the brilliant idea of leaving without calling him. And now, with twenty minutes until activities started, he was still in his boxers, his hair a wild mess.

He stumbled into the bathroom, tripping over one of his own hoodies left on the floor, only to find himself facing an explosion of colorful Post-its on the mirror. He grumbled under his breath as he splashed water on his face.

"She seriously took the time to write out all these stupid rules instead of waking me up?" he muttered through a mouthful of toothpaste foam, glaring at the green Post-it.

"Put away your hoodies… use my body wash… but look at this one..." he said, mimicking your voice and grabbing a cookie from the table while frantically searching for his ID card. The taste of chocolate clashed violently with the minty toothpaste, creating a disgusting mix, and he wondered how Sunoo, one of his best friends could stand that contrast.

Just as he was about to leave, he spotted the last Post-it on the door and read it twice, the cookie still between his teeth: "Because I ‘care’ and not at all because I wanted you to be late… (nope, not at all)."

Niki blinked, then let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a growl and an incredulous laugh.

"‘I care,’ huh?" he muttered to himself, glaring at the yellow paper. "You’re such a little liar, Shorty. You left me to rot in bed so that you could enjoy the show of me running around like an idiot."

He grabbed his ID card, adjusting his cowboy hat with a sharp motion, but his movements were less furious than before. There was a strange electricity humming under his skin. Obviously, that Post-it was a provocation of course it was but it was also glaring proof that the mayor’s daughter, the so-called "untouchable" girl, wasn’t just putting up with his presence. She was studying him. She knew how many hours he slept, that he played video games until 2 AM, and even that he used your body wash. She was paying way too much attention to him.

With a small smirk lighting up his gaze, he tucked the Post-it behind his phone case. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing it, but the idea of carrying a little piece of your neat handwriting with him appealed to him more than he wanted to admit.

And with that, he rushed off to the little ones’ fishing activity, fully intending to drive you just as crazy that day.

The weekend had finally arrived, and the atmosphere at Camp Montana had shifted. While most of the counselors were loading up their cars to escape to the nearest town, searching for parties, cocktails, or luxury hotel retreats to unwind, you had very different plans. The wildlife trail started just a 10-minute walk from the camp’s parking lot, and you were looking forward to two hours of hiking, surrounded by the scent of hay, sun-warmed trees, and the sun beating down on your skin. But what you were really looking forward to was a hearty plate of melted cheese with sausage and mushrooms, topped off with a wild berry panna cotta the meal you’d been dreaming about for days.

That night, you’d gone to bed more excited than usual, simply because you couldn’t wait to spend a day completely free of Niki. When you woke at dawn, the sky was still painted in soft violet hues, and the first birds were beginning to chirp. You stretched, instinctively turning toward Niki’s bed, expecting to see the usual tangle of blond hair and blankets strewn in every direction. But to your surprise, the bed was empty. Your heart gave a little leap, it was the first time you didn’t have to deal with his impossible schedule. That is, until you heard the water running.

You made a slightly confused face and thought to yourself, It’s seven in the morning, and he’s already up? Where is that guy even going? I hope he’s not up to something stupid.

With those questions swirling in your mind, you headed to the kitchen to make coffee, watching as the first rays of sunlight set the mountain peaks ablaze. A few moments later, Niki emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and tousled. He was wearing a faded ‘80s band T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, baggy jeans, and sturdy hiking boots. He pulled his New Yorker cap on backward, and you had to admit, reluctantly that his style was growing on you. Maybe even a little too much. You quickly looked away.

"Where are you going?" you asked, clutching your coffee mug like a shield. Niki reached out, snatching a cookie from the table, and took a bite with casual indifference.

"Hiking with you and your little friends," he said, his voice still rough with sleep. You closed your eyes, certain he was joking. When you opened them again, you nearly spilled your coffee into the sink, coughing in surprise.

"Wait, what? You...you’re coming with us? Into the woods? For hours?" You tried to talk him out of it. "I don’t think that’s your ideal habitat."

Niki shrugged, shooting you an amused glance from under the brim of his cap. "What? Surprised? I can walk like a normal person, Shorty. And I can adapt to any natural habitat..especially when you’re there." He winked at you, and you opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

"So… you’re telling me you’re coming with us? You’re actually waiting for me?"

He nodded, picking up the mug you’d only taken a sip from and downing the rest of your coffee. "Yeah, just don’t take an hour to get ready." He stepped outside onto the porch, and the word "ready" made your cheeks burn. You didn’t need to be told twice. You rushed to the bathroom, washing your face at lightning speed and braiding your hair into your usual neat plaits. You threw on a ribbed tank top with faded rainbow stripes that gave you a fresh, lively look, a pair of comfortable jeans that ended just above your knees, your hiking boots, and your New Yorker cap. When you stepped outside, grab your backpack and camera, you found Niki lounging on the porch hammock. The moment you appeared, he lifted his gaze and looked you up and down. For a second, his usual smirk faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. Without meaning to, he inhaled, catching the faint scent of your sakura-scented body wash, your signature fragrance in the bungalow and, apparently, his favorite in just a few weeks. With a fluid motion, he hopped off the hammock, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and gestured toward the trail.

You walked in silence to the meeting point, but it was a different kind of silence. Neither of you teased or provoked the other. For once, there was no war between you...

When Lia saw you both approaching, her eyes widened. Okay, sure, you’d told the whole camp that anyone who wanted to join the hike was welcome, but she hadn’t expected to see you arrive with Niki. She rushed over, linking her arm through yours and pulling you a step forward to whisper in your ear:

"And what is he doing here? He’s complained every day about not being able to sleep, and now that he has two whole days to catch up, he’s coming on a hike?"

"He decided to come hiking with us," you replied with a shrug, trying to sound indifferent while feeling Niki’s gaze burning into the back of your neck.

Lia turned to study him properly. Niki was leaning against a tree with effortless ease, observing the forest as if he’d known it his whole life. She was skeptical, she knew a guy like him wouldn’t choose a flat trail and a refuge lunch unless there was a more... personal reason. She looked at you, then at him, and a small, knowing smile spread across her face. Deep down, she already understood what was brewing between you, though she decided not to say anything, she didn’t want to make your cheeks burn any brighter. She couldn’t wait to see how your days together would unfold.

The crisp Montana air was like a jolt of pure energy, invigorating you with every breath. You took long, deep inhales, savoring the sweet sensation of fresh, clean air filling your lungs. You loved walking along the flat trail, surrounded by greenery, the sound of babbling brooks, and the occasional sight of cows grazing in the distance. Every few minutes, people would wave and wish you a good day, making you feel right at home, because deep down, you’d always loved spending time outdoors, and your years at summer camp had only deepened that love for nature.

You and Lia led the group with confidence, knowing every rock and turn of the path by heart after years of hiking it together. Each time, you’d discover something new, something you’d missed the year before. But every time you raised your camera to capture a snow-capped peak, a wildflower, or one of Lia’s funny faces, the lens somehow ended up framing Niki instead. He walked with an effortless swagger, earbuds in, his gaze shifting between the mountain peaks and your figure just a few meters ahead.

It was odd to wear earbuds when you could hear the birds, the cows, the rushing water but by now, you’d grown used to Niki’s quirks. If it made him comfortable, you weren’t about to say anything.

Niki took in the landscape, and it wasn’t half bad—though he’d never admit it out loud. He was a Chicago guy, used to 2 a.m. outings because he couldn’t sleep, extreme sports, and pure adrenaline. The quiet of nature usually bored him to death, but the thought of staying in the empty bungalow without your indignant glares and quick comebacks had convinced him that maybe a hike wasn’t so terrible. He liked watching you—how you were kind to everyone, sunny, the way people gravitated toward you because you gave off the vibe of someone everyone wanted to be around. But with him, you were the exact opposite, fiery, ready to snap the second he opened his mouth to tease you. That contrast was getting under his skin, and it annoyed him more than he cared to admit. It hadn’t even been a month since you’d started sharing your lives, and yet his eyes sought you out everywhere. He hated the effect you had on him.

At one point, the group stopped because a small stream had flooded the trail, creating a muddy, slippery passage. The guys in the group started playing the chivalrous heroes, helping the others cross. Niki quickened his pace until he was right behind you, his warm breath brushing against your earlobe, carrying the scent of mint and something spicy.

"Wren, let me go first," he murmured in that rough voice that sent a shiver down your spine. "Halfway through, I’ll grab your hand and pull you across." He smirked, and when he saw you startle at his sudden closeness, he chuckled. You whipped around, and your faces were inches apart, your cheeks flaming at the unexpected proximity.

"Thanks, but I can manage on my own," you said, proud. "Do you know how many times I’ve hiked this trail? A little water isn’t going to stop me."

He stepped aside with a dramatic flourish, gesturing for you to go ahead. You tried to proceed with dignity, and for a while, it went fine—until you reached a slippery, unstable rock. Panic set in. You hadn’t brought extra clothes or spare shoes, and the thought of ending up soaked in front of everyone—especially him—was a humiliation you couldn’t afford. You heard the others urging you to hurry, a small crowd forming behind you. You closed your eyes, swallowed your pride, and said:

"Niki… could you come to the middle and then go ahead? That way, you can grab my hand and pull me across?"

His smirk widened, lighting up his blond features—he had bet on you needing his help eventually. "Oh, so now you really get that you need me, wren?"

"Please, spare me the Montana hero speech and move that giant body of yours before I throw a rock at your head!" you snapped, trying to hide your embarrassment. You were stuck in the middle of the stream, and everyone was watching but you only cared about the gaze of one person in particular. He didn’t need to be told twice. With an effortless leap, he landed on the stable rock beside you, gesturing for you to hand over your backpack. Then, with infuriating ease, he launched himself toward the grassy bank, landing perfectly dry.

A moment later, he turned and reached his arm out to you. It was long, solid, veins standing out on the back of his hand, adorned with small silver rings. You wobbled slightly toward the water, and he stepped forward to catch you.

"Jump, Y/N. I’ve got you, you won’t fall," he said, rising onto his toes to get closer. You took a deep breath and leaped without thinking. His large, warm hands instantly closed around your waist, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. For an endless moment, you were pressed against his chest, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His minty, musky scent overwhelmed your senses, making you forget where you were. Without meaning to, you nestled closer to him. After a moment, you looked up and found his face just centimeters from yours, that victorious smirk still playing on his lips as he enjoyed the fact that everyone was staring.

"Thanks," you whispered, your cheeks burning as he set you down with maddening slowness. You tucked some loose strands of hair behind your ears, and Niki saw how utterly flustered you were. He found it ridiculously cute but didn’t say a word. Instead, he watched as you grabbed your backpack and hurried to catch up with Lia, who was barely containing a sarcastic comment about what had just happened. You shot her such a fierce look that she immediately raised her hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay, I’ll keep my mouth shut!" she said, laughing.

The trail leading to the refuge was a relentless uphill climb that seemed to never end, but the view waiting at the top made every drop of sweat worth it. Every time you hiked that path and reached the summit, the scenery was breathtaking. When you finally caught sight of the wooden cabin with its umbrellas and lounge chairs neatly lined up along the meadow, a chorus of relieved sighs rose from the group everyone was utterly exhausted.

You and Lia, without needing to say a word, quickened your pace—though maybe that wasn’t the best idea, since it left the others behind and your legs started aching but the moment you stepped inside the refuge, the smell of freshly cooked food wrapped around you, and your stomachs growled in response.

In front of the entrance, a menu written on a chalkboard made your mouths water: melted cheese with sausage and mushrooms, beef stew with potatoes, hot sausage sandwiches with various sides but it was the dessert list that made you both grin: panna cotta with berries, Sacher cake, strudel. You and Lia exchanged a look of pure complicity—you couldn’t wait to dig into those homemade sweets.

"Oh my God, I’m about to die from happiness," you said at the sight of so many treats, and Lia sighed at the sight of a waitress carrying a perfect slice of Sacher cake, already imagining the first bite of that heavenly dessert.

You dropped your backpacks onto a long wooden table, and while the others settled in, you couldn’t resist unbuttoning the first two buttons of your blouse, you wanted to soak up as much sun as possible and relax. You put on your sunglasses and stretched out on a lounge chair like a cat basking in the sun. Lia did the same, but unlike you, Lia was a first-class chatterbox and didn’t stop talking for a second:

"Damn, Y/n, look at Niki," she said, nodding toward the shade of the refuge. "He seriously hates the sun. How can he just sit there in the shade, sulking with that little notebook of his, drawing or writing who knows what, when he could be out here soaking up some sun and relaxing by the stream like normal people?"

You turned slightly and, sure enough, saw Niki leaning against the refuge wall, legs crossed, notebook on his knees, and a scowl that, for some reason, made a stupid little smile tug at your lips. You quickly shook your head.

Since when did you find him cute? you thought. He was everything you shouldn’t want in your life....especially that annoying pout of his, the way he ignored the world around him.

"Good thing he’s over there by himself instead of coming to ruin my free day too," you replied, trying to sound indifferent. Lia chuckled, noticing how you’d glanced at him.

"You know, it’s weird that, purely by coincidence, he ended up coming on this hike with us too. I think he came because…"

You pushed your sunglasses up and shot her a glare. She immediately clamped her mouth shut and raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, we won’t talk about you and him...well, we won’t talk about him at all, Y/n. Just today. I’ll put my headphones in and listen to a podcast or some music for an hour while we enjoy the fresh air and sunshine."

You nodded, but before sliding your sunglasses back down, you couldn’t resist sneaking another look at Niki. He was completely absorbed in sketching, his pencil moving swiftly across the page, his brow slightly furrowed. As if sensing the weight of your gaze, he looked up, and your eyes met. You immediately lowered your sunglasses and pretended to look around before lying back down on the lounge chair, but you could feel your cheeks burning.

Damn it… He always caught you looking at him. Every single time.

On the other side, Niki lowered his gaze back to his notebook, a small, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips. For the first time in a long while, there was a real person in his sketches, he’d been drawing the mountains, quick strokes and shading, but there was also the profile of a girl with braids taking photos by a stream and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Lunch at the refuge had been devoured in the blink of an eye—everyone had grabbed food and shared it among laughter and old mountain stories meant to scare the group. But the peace lasted only until dessert arrived. When the waitress placed that slice of warm strudel in front of you, crispy pastry, vanilla ice cream already melting into a delicious cream, you thought you’d died and gone to heaven. You’d been dreaming of that slice for ages, but you hadn’t accounted for Niki’s presence. Without a word, he stretched his fork toward your dessert and, with zero hesitation, broke off half your slice.

"Hey! That’s my cake!" you exclaimed, eyes wide, as Niki didn’t even bother looking at you. With a little smirk, he broke off another piece, and you, furious, jammed your fork between the tines of his to block him. He finally lifted his gaze, those expressive eyes locking onto yours.

"This is my cake, Niki. You have your yogurt, which is probably just as sour as you are," you hissed, aware that half the table was snickering at your little scene.

"Everyone said we should share," he countered, "and I’ll share mine with your dessert." He gestured to your strudel, and you snapped:

"Well, I’d never trade my cake for yogurt I could get in the camp cafeteria!"

Before you could finish, he swooped in with lightning speed, bringing a piece of strudel to his mouth. You opened your lips to protest, but the sound died in your throat as Niki closed his eyes and let out a low, guttural moan, almost like a purr of satisfaction, that made your stomach flutter. He brought a finger to his lips to wipe away a trail of vanilla ice cream, and in that moment, you felt your ears burning.

"Mmm… I get why you don’t want to share," he said, his gaze lingering on your lips a second too long. "It’s delicious. I’ll have another bite." He leaned even closer to your plate, and you snapped:

"Forget it!" You clutched the plate to your chest like it was your most precious treasure, and he kept talking:

"Come on, Y/n, share a little. Don’t be a baby," he teased, and Lia, beside you, burst out laughing.

"You two are like an old married couple fighting over the remote. Y/N, just give him a piece—you know he’ll win anyway."

You shot her a glare. "You’re supposed to be on my side, Lia!" you grumbled, finishing your slice in quick bites while glaring daggers at Niki, who returned to his "boring" yogurt with berries. Halfway through, he held out the spoon with some fruit, but you shook your head proudly. Niki thought you were seriously acting like a child—a little pouty, a little stubborn—but that angry pout of yours made him feel things he shouldn’t, and he noticed how your eyes never left him, even if your glare was murderous.

After eating, the group split up, some hiked higher, while Niki, against all expectations, flopped onto a lounge chair in the sun. By 5 PM, when the air started cooling, Lia and the others approached you.

"We’re heading back, Y/n. Coming?" she asked.

You glanced at Niki, fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. It was strange: back at the bungalow, he fought insomnia until 2 AM, but here, on an uncomfortable wooden lounge chair, he looked like an angel (maybe a fallen one), wrestling with his demons. Without realizing it, you said:

"I’ll stay another half hour. We share the bungalow—I’ll make this sacrifice and head down with him."

Lia looked slightly surprised and glanced at the dark clouds gathering over the peaks. "Okay, but don’t take too long, the weather here changes in a heartbeat. Text me when you get back to camp."

You nodded and sat beside him, trying to focus on The Mistake by Elle Kennedy, but the words danced on the page. You’d been stuck on the same page for 10 minutes. When only a few people remained, you stood up and poked his back with a finger.

"Niki, stop sleeping. We need to go down," you said, but there was no response, you realized he had headphones in. You yanked them out with a sharp motion, cutting off the music.

"Niki Nishimura! We have to go back! You can sleep at the bungalow!"

He opened his eyes slowly and saw your braids swaying inches from his face. He let out a lazy, warm chuckle, and you huffed.

"What’s so funny? It’s past five, and it’s about to rain!"

Instead of answering, Niki reached out and tugged lightly on one of your braids, twirling it around his fingers with a familiarity that stole your breath...only your family ever played with your hair like that. You slapped his hand away.

"Are you crazy? Don’t touch my hair again, and let’s go—look what’s coming over the mountains!" You pointed to the dark clouds forming, and he sighed, stretching like a cat. In the movement, his ’80s band T-shirt rode up, and your eyes widened, right there, on his V-line, was a tattoo… red lips? They looked perfect, inked in such a scandalous spot that it made your head spin. Whose lips were those?

You shook your head, heat flooding your face. Grabbing your backpack, you spun around and jabbed a finger at him. "I’m not waiting for you anymore! Everyone else left an hour ago, and if you want to stay here and get struck by lightning, be my guest—because I’ve already been too nice waiting for you, and I don’t even know why!"

You stormed off, heart pounding at the memory of that tattooed skin shaped like lips, but after a few minutes, a familiar shadow fell over you. You turned and saw Niki, less than two steps behind, hair tousled, backpack slung over his shoulder, and that usual scowl etched on his face. You rolled your eyes, but deep down, the fact that he hadn’t left you alone sent a strange, annoying twist in your stomach. You nearly stopped in your tracks, and he said:

"Walk, wren," he murmured, brushing past you, leaving the scent of mint in the air. "Or I’ll have to fish you out of the mud when it starts raining!"

You hated Niki Nishimura with every fiber of your being, or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as the rain poured down, turning the Montana trail into a slippery, muddy mess. And for once, Niki had been right. Just minutes earlier, he’d said, "I’ll have to fish you out of the mud,"—and now, his words had become reality. You wanted to scream and kill him at the same time. The storm had only been raging for five minutes, but the water was already cascading down in sheets, and you clutched your backpack over your head in a desperate, useless attempt to stay dry. Meanwhile, you were seething—at yourself for not leaving with the others, at Niki for walking with an infuriating calm, as if he actually enjoyed this situation.

You shot him glowering looks until a deafening crack split the sky, thunder roaring through the mountains. You froze, paralyzed by the ominous sound. Everyone—your father, every camp instructor—had always drilled into you: "Never stay near trees during a mountain storm." And here you were, smack in the middle of a giant forest, your heart pounding with fear—for yourself, for Niki, for the fact that something terrible could happen to either of you.

Niki, realizing you’d stopped, whirled around. His usual bored expression vanished in an instant when he saw you—motionless, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders trembling. In three long strides, he was at your side.

"Why did you stop? We need to move!" he shouted over the rain, but you just stared at him, wide-eyed, hair plastered to your face.

"We’re going to get struck by lightning, Niki! It’s your fault! We’re still over an hour from camp, and we’re in the middle of nowhere!" you panicked. Another thunderclap, even closer, made the ground tremble. Before you could say another word, you felt Niki’s large, warm hand grab yours, and there was no time to protest—he started running, dragging you along in a frantic sprint through the downpour. You had to match his pace, even though you weren’t used to it.

"Do you even know where the hell you’re going?!" you yelled, but Niki didn’t answer. At the fork that led back to the summer camp, you watched in horror as he suddenly veered left.

"Are you SERIOUSLY going left?! The camp is to the RIGHT! Niki, I swear if I die because of you, my ghost will haunt you for the rest of your EXISTENCE—no, for ETERNITY!" you screamed. But instead of panicking, Niki burst out laughing a liberating, wild laugh, the kind of someone who hadn’t felt this alive and free in years, far from Chicago’s underground races and his parents’ problems. When he finally spotted an old abandoned barn between the trees, he pointed at it with a sharp gesture. As you stumbled inside, you were furious and immediately yanked your hand away as if it burned.

"I can’t believe this… How unlucky can I be? Why didn’t I just go down with Lia and the others? Why did I have the brilliant idea of waiting for you?!" you ranted, shivering from the cold. Niki shook the water from his hair like a wet dog and looked down at you—you seemed even smaller and more vulnerable, soaked and trembling.

"You should be thanking me, actually," he said with a vague gesture. "We’re safe, under a roof that’s protecting us from killer lightning and the storm."

You raised an eyebrow. "Thank you? For what, exactly?"

He huffed, stepping dangerously close to you. "Because you didn’t even know this shack existed. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be out there, frozen like a statue in the dark, drenched, and panicking in the storm. But hey, no problem, Y/n." He smirked, and you opened your mouth to retort but another flash of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by thunder that seemed to shake the barn’s foundations. You shuddered violently, and before you even realized it, you stepped closer to him, seeking protection—though you were still seething.

"It’s all my fault…" you murmured, voice trembling. "I should’ve gone down with the others and left you there sleeping on the lounge chair. Now we’re stuck here all night? No, I’m NOT spending the night in here! What if a wolf comes in? Or a bear and eats us both? Or the roof collapses...."

But before you could finish, your words were cut off by Niki’s lips crashing against yours. You froze, stunned by the unexpected softness of his mouth. Your thoughts spiraled:

What is he doing? Is he actually kissing me? Should I pull away? Will it be awkward? Will he realize it’s my first kiss?

But every doubt vanished when you felt his lips part slightly, inviting you to respond. This kiss was nothing like you’d imagined—not the rough, aggressive kind you’d expect from a guy like him, always surrounded by girls. Instead, there was an unexpected sweetness that stole your breath as his lips gently coaxed yours open. Your hands acted on their own—one fisted his soaked T-shirt, feeling the heat of his chest, while the other rested on his solid shoulder. You parted your lips further, letting him deepen the kiss, and you sighed into it, tasting the lingering vanilla ice cream mixed with the mint of his breath. Niki let out a low, satisfied hum against your mouth, his lips lightly sucking your lower lip, a barely-there smirk forming between you—as if he knew he’d finally shut you up.

But then reality hit like a slap. You jerked back, pressing a trembling hand to your mouth, your heart pounding in your throat.

Niki had just stolen your first kiss...your very first kiss.

He stood still, towering over you with wet hair falling onto his forehead, watching you with a small smirk—finally, he’d managed to shut you up.

"You…" you whispered, pointing at him with a trembling finger. "Why did you kiss me?" you shrieked, shocked. Niki just shrugged with an infuriating nonchalance.

"I wanted to shut you up somehow, and I figured kissing you was the quickest way. That’s all… You were rambling too much, Y/n, and I hate people who talk too much."

Your cheeks burned, and you didn’t know whether to slap him or kiss him again. You opened your mouth to unleash a string of insults, to tell him how arrogant and presumptuous he was, but the words died in your throat. With a smooth, unembarrassed motion, Niki pulled off his soaked shirt, leaving you frozen, your eyes glued to his body—sculpted like marble, dark lines of tattoos snaking across his skin in designs you couldn’t quite decipher. But your gaze inevitably dropped lower, to that defined V-line disappearing into his wet jeans, to that lip-shaped tattoo that seemed both scandalous and sexy. Your cheeks flared with heat, and you snapped your eyes downward, pretending sudden interest in the muddy tips of your shoes.

Meanwhile, Niki pulled out a gray long-sleeved shirt from his backpack too thin for the dropping temperature—then a thick, carefully folded gray hoodie. You assumed it was for him, but instead, he stepped closer. Seeing you speechless for once, he teased with a chuckle:

"Damn, if kissing you or showing off my tattoos is what it takes to shut you up, I should’ve done it ages ago back at the bungalow. You never stop talking from morning to night!" he said with an annoying smirk.

"You’re an idiot!" you snapped, giving him a little shove, but he didn’t budge an inch. Instead, he draped his hoodie over your shoulders.

"Take off that blouse and put this on," he ordered, his gaze suddenly serious as he watched you shiver. "At least you’ll stay warm and won’t freeze to death before we get back to camp, otherwise, you’ll have a fever of 40 tomorrow."His eyes lingered on you, and you wanted to strangle him, but your chattering teeth wouldn’t let you play tough. The hoodie was soft, plush inside, and you nodded, but first, you muttered:

"Turn around. I need to change."

Niki shot you a challenging look that lasted a couple of seconds, then sighed and turned his back.

"Don’t you dare turn around, Niki, seriously, or..."

He burst out laughing, a low chuckle echoing against the wooden walls. "Or what, wren? You’ll kiss me this time?"

You wanted to scream, but while he kept teasing you, you moved fast as lightning, peeling off your soaked blouse that clung to your skin like ice. You slipped into his hoodie....massive, the sleeves swallowing your hands completely, the hem falling to mid-thigh but the worst… or best part? The smell. It was intensely him: peppermint and something spicy, and without thinking, you buried your face in the high collar, inhaling his scent.

Niki turned slowly, expecting you to be done but when he saw you drowned in his clothes, your nose pressed into the fabric as you sought his scent, he froze. His mind raced: You looked so small in his hoodie, like it was made for you. And he hated how good you looked in his clothes, it drove him crazy. You were the classic "good girl" who should’ve stayed far away from someone like him… and yet, at the same time, he wanted to break you, make you his, just to prove to the world that even good girls needed a guy like him.

You realized he was staring at you longer than usual, and you whispered, "Thanks."

Niki raised an eyebrow, surprised by your response. "Whoa, I should mark this day on the calendar! The Princess actually said thank you without a judge forcing her!" he teased, chuckling. You rolled your eyes, trying to reclaim some dignity.

"You should thank me," you said, puffing up slightly as you clutched the long sleeves against your chest. He crossed his arms, amused by your answer.

"Oh? And what exactly should I thank you for?"

"For waiting for you!" you replied proudly. "Otherwise, you’d still be here asleep on that lounge chair in the middle of the storm." You shot him a glare, and Niki smirked, running a hand through his damp, icy-blond hair. He didn’t thank you with words, but his gaze softened for a moment before he turned toward a wooden ladder leading to the upper level of the barn, where dry hay awaited.

You walked to the heavy door, slamming it shut to block out the howling wind. Meanwhile, Niki tested the sturdiness of the ladder rungs with a sharp tug. The old wood groaned slightly, but he figured it could hold your combined weight. He climbed first, and when he reached the top, he found a small loft filled with the sweet scent of freshly gathered hay—soft enough to lie down on. There were even old burlap sacks stuffed with raw wool serving as makeshift pillows. It wasn’t luxury, but compared to the mud and rain outside, it felt like paradise.

"Wren, we can stretch out up here until the storm passes," he called, leaning over the edge as he watched you climb. Niki unconsciously bit his lower lip, his hoodie nearly swallowed you whole, your usually neat braids half-undone and messy, your lips still slightly swollen and trembling from the earlier kiss. For a microsecond, he thought you looked cute before shaking his head to banish the dangerous thought.

The space up there was cramped, so you kicked off your shoes, mimicking his movement, and knelt on the hay, trying to ignore how your legs brushed against his. You looked around, careful not to let your eyes linger too often on his face or his body.

"They’re definitely looking for us," you murmured, trying to reassure yourself as the wind howled through the cracks in the roof. "The camp director and all the counselors must have already sent out search parties. They’ll find us soon." You watched the sky grow darker, lit only by the flashes of thunder that made the entire structure tremble. Without thinking, you scooted closer to Niki, who was already half-reclined, a strand of hay caught between his lips, lazily shifting it with his tongue.

"I bet they’re worried about you, wren, not me," he said with a hint of cynicism, his intense gaze fixed on you. "You’re everyone’s favorite at camp—the perfect girl who never breaks the rules and I’m just… me." His eyes drifted to a fixed point in the barn.

"That’s not true," you countered, pulling your legs against your chest and burying your chin in the collar of his hoodie. "I bet all the girls who flock around you, the ones who sigh when you walk by and gossip about you—they’re all worried about you!"

Niki propped himself up on an elbow, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he detected the sarcastic edge—and maybe a hint of irritation—in your voice.

"Mmm, someone’s jealous, or maybe..."

You didn’t let him finish, swatting his arm playfully. "Stop it!" you snapped, glaring at him. He chuckled at your flushed cheeks, and another thunderclap tore through the sky, so loud it felt like it exploded right above you. You visibly shuddered, inching even closer to him.

"Are you scared of thunder, or are you just cold, Shorty?" he asked, looking at you almost protectively. You sighed, feeling a little pressured by his gaze.

"Don’t make fun of me, but… both. I was stupid not to bring a change of clothes like you did, and thank God you gave me your hoodie even if I know you’re cold too right now."

Niki murmured that you were perceptive, and you closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion and the chill in your bones as you tried to relax a little.

"Look, I know you don’t like physical contact, and you can’t stand me and trust me, the feeling is mutual but we’re human, right? Maybe we could… I don’t know, keep each other warm." You blurted out what you were thinking, though you might have phrased it poorly, because Niki’s eyes shot open, almost shocked. He nearly choked on his own saliva at what you’d just said.

"You know what you just said sounds really bad, right, Y/n? When a girl asks a guy to ‘keep her warm’… we tend to think of things that are a little more intimate than just sharing a blanket." He laughed, teasing you, and you immediately covered your face with your hands, feeling your cheeks burn.

"Oh my God, no! That’s not what I meant! This is so embarrassing! I gave my first kiss to a guy I can’t stand, I’m trapped in a falling-apart barn, I’m freezing to death, and..."

Before you could finish, Niki’s strong arms wrapped around you with a determination that brooked no argument, pulling you against his chest. Without meaning to, you nestled against him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your hands instinctively resting over his heart. For a moment, you froze, feeling it beating fast—too fast for someone who pretended to be so calm.

Niki stayed still for a few seconds, his breath catching in his throat. He was the guy everyone had warned you to stay away from—the one who had been the first to brush against those lips that tasted of vanilla and far too much innocence. He could imagine it, really, how it had been your first kiss, from the way you’d hesitated, from the sweet, uncertain tension in your movements. But hearing you say it out loud while trembling in his arms made him feel something he’d never experienced before. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of your head against his chest, and for the first time, his usual arrogance gave way to a strange, unfamiliar curiosity.

"Wren… I never would’ve guessed I’d be your first kiss," he said quietly. "Between summer camp and university, half the guys are crazy about you. I just assumed at least one of them would’ve had the guts to kiss you by now."

You stiffened instantly, burying your face deeper into his hoodie. "Let’s not get into that chapter of my life. It’s embarrassing…" you mumbled, trying to turn away to hide the blush now creeping down your neck. But Niki didn’t let you. He held you close, forcing you to stay put until you both settled more comfortably in the hay. He stretched out fully while you propped yourself up on one elbow, trapped between his body and the slow, lazy circles his finger began tracing through the damp ends of your hair.

"Undo your braids, Y/N, or tomorrow you’ll have impossible knots, and it’ll all be my fault for dragging you through the storm," he teased, trying to lighten the tension between you. He twirled a strand around his finger, watching the way the dim lightning reflected in your hair. You pouted.

"You undo them, since you like playing with my hair so much!”

Niki didn’t need to be told twice. He looked at you intently, his fingers deftly unraveling the braids. When your hair tumbled loose over your shoulders and into his hand, he ran his fingers through it, almost enchanted by its softness. The scent of cherry filled the air, overwhelming the usual mint and rain, and for a moment, he thought he’d want to bury his face in your hair every damn morning, not just when you invaded the bungalow bathroom with that fragrance. But he quickly pushed the thought away when he saw you nervously tucking the strands behind your ears.

"I’m sorry I stole your first kiss," he started, but he didn’t look at you. "I bet you wanted to give it to some perfect, upper-class guy—you know, the kind with a perfectly ironed shirt and his whole future already mapped out."

You rolled your eyes and sighed deeply at the sudden chill in his tone. "Well, I can’t go back now, and my dream of giving my first kiss to someone I actually like—someone who actually likes me—is officially gone."

Niki was staring at you too intensely, his face too close, and said:

"Well, since we’re stuck here… why don’t you kiss me this time? You know, just for practice… Think of it as training for your future ‘perfect guy.’ At least you’ll know what to do when you meet him."

Your eyes widened, your cheeks burning. "What? No! Are you crazy?" you stammered, trying not to look at him, but he kept teasing you.

"Don’t tell me you’re scared to kiss me," he smirked, closing the distance between you by another centimeter. "Because if you’re scared, it means you’re scared to admit you actually like me." He was showing off, and you seriously wanted to slap him.

"I don’t like you, Niki, and I never will. Get that through your head," you shot back with all the confidence you could muster, even though your heart was pounding wildly against your ribs. You refused to meet his gaze, but he just grinned.

"Good. Then kiss me, Shorty. If you don’t like me, there’s no risk, right? You can just use me as your guinea pig for practice," he continued, amused by your flustered state. He leaned in even closer, his mouth a breath away from yours.

"Unless… you’re not doing it because you think that if you kiss me again, you won’t be able to stop."

But you didn’t let him finish. Just like he had done to you earlier, you slammed your lips against his to shut him up once and for all.

Niki smiled immediately against your mouth, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you hard against him.

Your lips were still uncertain, guided by a shyness that Niki seemed eager to devour with every touch but he also found it sweet. When you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip, he began to suck on those lips no one had ever dared kiss before, and a stifled moan escaped your throat. Niki thought he might just be the luckiest guy in the world, finding himself in this barn with you nearly in his arms, kissing like this.

The hand that had been resting over his heart slid lower, tracing the taut planes of his stomach, while Niki buried his fingers in your loose hair, pressing his palm against the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away—to pull you even closer, because he didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted you to feel just how much you were driving him crazy, and you sighed against his mouth, dazed by the sensations he was giving you with just kisses.

Then, driven by an instinct you didn’t even know you had, you leaned forward and imitated his gesture, timidly sucking on his lower lip. Niki let out a low growl, shifting slightly beneath you as he felt how you were trying—so shyly, so clumsily to drive him wild. But you’d been driving him wild since the first time he’d seen you in the bungalow. He craved more friction, more contact, as if even the smallest space between your bodies was still too much—though there was none at all. Without warning, he pushed his tongue past your lips, and when your tongues met for the first time, you both moaned.

Niki lowered you completely onto the hay, his weight hovering over you not crushing you, but making you feel protected by his warmth, by him. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you so close you could feel every muscle in his body pressed against yours. You kissed for minutes that felt like hours, not just fleeting kisses, but a mix of shy discovery, playful dominance, and restraint, your lips wandering to his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Both of you were drowning in a whirlwind of sensations and emotions you’d never felt before, and neither wanted to stop.

You pulled away just long enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You felt his fingers trace the skin at your side, slipping beneath the hem of the hoodie as he held you possessively against him.

"Niki…" you breathed, but he didn’t stop looking at you. Instead, he pressed a finger to your swollen, glossy lips and whispered:

"Don’t think, Wren. Just kiss me."

You didn’t need to be told twice. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him back to you with a force that surprised him, playing with the icy-blond strands at his nape, tugging lightly. Niki groaned against your lips, sending a shiver through you, and you continued to alternate between deep kisses and playful nips, exploring each other in that makeshift refuge while the Montana cold stayed locked outside those walls. For the first time, you felt truly warm but also protected by someone everyone had warned you to stay away from.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed one of you first, and soon, the only sounds in the barn were the drizzling rain and your steady breaths as you fell asleep, entangled in each other’s arms.

After that weekend trapped in the barn, reality hit hard again, because even though you’d kissed and fallen asleep together, you’d hoped those kisses might have changed something in Niki, made him softer or more "human." But you’d made the biggest mistake of your life thinking that, because Niki had gone back to being his usual self or maybe even worse.

His cynicism had doubled, his taunts had become more relentless, driving you crazy and making you curse him 24h-24h. He teased you endlessly but at the same time made it clear that nothing had happened between you, that those kisses had meant nothing. It was frustrating because you had to see him all the time, and you would’ve changed bungalows every day if you could. But when you finally decided you’d had enough, you found yourself walking near the rec area to make sure the kids didn’t wander off and then you saw something surreal, yet sweet enough to warm your heart.

Niki was sitting on the grass with his legs crossed, his back against an oak tree. In front of him was Nina, one of the liveliest little girls in the group, who never left him alone. As usual, Nina was chattering away, telling him how much she adored you and how badly she wanted braids just like yours because her little hands couldn’t manage to gather all her hair. You hid behind a tree, your heart beating strangely.

You saw that Niki wasn’t ignoring her like he usually did. Instead, he ran a hand through Nina’s hair to smooth it, then began braiding it with millimeter precision, his tongue slightly peeking out between his lips in pure concentration a gesture you knew well, one he always made when he was deeply focused on something. As he braided, Nina started talking again:

"I didn’t think someone like you would know how to braid!" Nina exclaimed with the blunt honesty of a child who wanted all his attention. "I bet you only know how because you can’t stop watching Y/N do hers in front of the mirror or when it’s too hot." She giggled, and you saw Niki freeze for a split second before chuckling and shaking his head.

"Oops, you caught me, Nina," he said, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly because you’d never noticed him watching you braid your hair.

"I bet you and Y/n will end up together someday, and you’ll invite me to your wedding in a few years!" Nina said, tilting her head. "Even though I’m just a little kid, I can see how you look at each other, and you should be nicer to her, like you are to me right now." You nodded in agreement and wanted to rush over to high-five Nina and hug her, but you saw Niki give her hair a playful tug when those words left her mouth.

"Ahia!" she protested, swatting his arm, and Niki’s expression suddenly turned melancholic. He grew serious, and you heard him say:

"Y/n deserves a prince charming like in the fairy tales you read, Nina. She doesn’t deserve someone like me… I’m not what she deserves, and I never will be." He tied off the braids, and those words hit you hard because everyone had warned you to stay away from him, and now even he was saying he wasn’t the guy you deserved. You stood frozen as Nina hugged him, barely reaching his waist, and told him to stop being "the bad guy" just because he had tattoos and a scowl. Niki hugged her back tightly, then took out his phone to show her the braids in the camera.

"They’re beautiful, Niki! Thank you! When I see Y/n, I’ll tell her you did them!" Nina said, giggling as she ran off to find you. Niki shot her a look, calling after her:

"Nina! Don’t you dare tell her I did them!" he yelled as she scampered away laughing, and an involuntary smile tugged at your lips. But that sweet moment was wiped away just hours later.

You were near the showers by the lake when you heard a group of counselors giggling. At the center was Chloe, a head counselor like you, but oozing confidence from every pore. She was touching her lips with a dreamy, almost theatrical air as she told her friends what had happened between her and Niki the night before.

"Girls, I swear, Niki is… unreal," Chloe said, adjusting her low-cut tank top with a practiced gesture to draw the attention of the guys fixing the boats. "Last night, behind the tool shed… we kissed for who knows how long, and girls, I’ve never had a kiss like that. Niki’s rough, and let’s be honest, he always wants to be in control, but he knows exactly what he’s doing with those lips of his, they were practically on my..." She giggled. "I’ve never felt so… dominated before, and you all know I’m usually the one calling the shots with guys!"

You rolled your eyes, trying to push back the sudden sting in your eyelids at the thought of Niki kissing someone else as you walked back to the bungalow, you wondered:

Why do my eyes feel like this?

You were furious with yourself because you knew who Niki was a heartbreaker, a guy who lived for moments, not promises. You didn’t want to fall for him like everyone else… but maybe you already had. And you still had another month and a half of sharing a bungalow with him before returning to Chicago.

A month and a half had passed since the start of summer camp, and some of the kids, along with a few counselors had already headed back to Chicago. Thankfully, Lia had stayed with you for the entire summer. You’d said goodbye to all the kids and some of the counselors, and that very evening, fifteen new kids and four new counselors two guys and two girls had arrived.

Two weeks had passed since John’s arrival, and for Niki, every single second he saw or heard him was a struggle not to roll his eyes. John was the exact type of guy Niki despised: a campus swimmer with a blinding smile straight out of a YouTube ad preview, the kind that made you want to skip the video in the first five seconds. He studied English literature and flaunted quotes from authors who had been dead and buried for centuries. It was infuriating.

As you leaned over to tighten the kids’ life jackets, John hovered around you like always—ever since he’d arrived at camp, he’d had the brilliant idea of positioning himself as the prince charming you supposedly needed.

"Be careful, Y/n, don’t strain your back too much. Let me pull these canoe ropes—I wouldn’t want you to overdo it," John said, resting his hand on your shoulder for a second too long for Niki’s liking. Niki watched with a groan of despair as John flirted like an idiot something he’d been witnessing for days now: John sitting next to you at meals, John constantly finding excuses to touch you (though you were reluctant to his advances). One morning, Niki had even found him standing outside your bungalow at 7:30 AM, flashing that smug smile of his. Niki had wanted to make him disappear in zero seconds.

Let’s just say Niki didn’t like John, and the feeling was mutual. So when John found out you were one of the few girls sharing a room with a guy, he’d insisted on asking for explanations. But you’d told him there was nothing to be done, the pairs were set for the summer, and deep down, you didn’t mind staying with Niki. John, however, wasn’t thrilled with your arrangement, especially since everyone could see—and hear that there was still something unresolved between you two.

On the dock, while Niki waited his turn to get into the canoe with Nina, Lia approached him, thoroughly enjoying the show of his irritation toward you and John, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Mmm, someone here doesn’t seem to tolerate another alpha male in his territory," Lia murmured, crossing her arms as Niki snapped his head toward her, eyes narrowed.

"Mind your own business, Lia. That guy’s just… a loser."

Lia chuckled, watching as Niki couldn’t stop glancing at you for even a second.

"A loser, huh? Well, that ‘loser’ is getting all the attention you used to have just a few weeks ago! When are you going to stop acting like a jerk and show her who you really are? She won’t wait forever, Niki. It’s obvious from a mile away that you feel something for Y/n and it’s definitely not hate… Let’s just say ever since you kissed in that barn, the tension between you two could power the entire camp."

Niki froze for a second at Lia’s words, his expression confused. "How do you know that..." He cut himself off, realizing of course you and Lia were best friends and best friends told each other everything. Niki closed his eyes for a moment, and against his will, his mind played tricks on him, memories flooded back: the feel of your fingers in his hair, the way you’d responded to his kiss with that shy hesitation that had made his heart race, the way you’d clung to himl ike you were afraid he’d disappear from that barn.

When he opened his eyes again and saw how you smiled at that guy, he thought: John doesn’t know and never will what it’s like to feel you tremble when someone kisses you, how good it feels to be touched by you, how beautiful you look beneath him with swollen lips, neither of you able to stop kissing…

"I don’t feel anything for her, Lia. She could start dating that John kid tomorrow, and I wouldn’t care," Niki said, looking down for the first time in minutes and deep down, he didn’t even believe himself. Lia shook her head, looking at him with a pity that made him furious.

"You know, you’re not very good at lying, Niki. I thought you were smarter than this, but you’re just like every other guy in the world: the second you realize you feel something, you refuse to face the consequences. What’s the matter? Afraid that admitting even a scrap of emotion will make your ‘bad boy from Chicago’ aura vanish into thin air?" she taunted.

"You don’t know shit about me, Lia, and it’s better if your best friend stays as far away from me as possible… I’m not the happy-ending type, and she doesn’t need someone like me ruining her life," Niki hissed. Lia started walking toward her canoe but paused to land one last jab.

"Cut the tough-guy act, Niki, because if you keep this up, you’ll end up alone forever and trust me, a life with no one brave enough to love you, and no one you’re brave enough to love, isn’t much of a life. I’ll say it one more time: she won’t wait for you forever, Niki. So make a move, because honestly? I don’t like John either." She gave him a little smirk before walking off, leaving Niki standing there, motionless, as you climbed into the canoe with John’s help—and Niki watched as John’s hand brushed your waist to steady you.

In that moment, Niki didn’t just feel jealousy. He felt something else maybe the realization that he could lose you soon. And Niki wasn’t the type to lose something he wanted.

That evening, Niki was sprawled on his bed which was slightly too small for his height, relaxing and playing on his Nintendo Switch. He tried to focus on the game, but it was getting harder and harder not to steal glances at the creaky bathroom door you both shared. From the other side, your slightly off-key voice drifted out as you sang Legendary Lovers by Katy Perry, laughing between verses. You’d been in there way too long, usually, it took you ten minutes to throw on one of your matching, childish pajama sets after slathering on some weird aloe vera mask from too much sun. But when the door finally swung open, Niki expected to see you in your usual sleepwear.

Instead, you stood there in a short, black, slightly glittery top and a denim skirt that left your tanned legs bare. Your hair wasn’t in its usual braids—it was loose and wild, a mess of curls and waves tumbling over your shoulders. The scent of sakura hit him immediately, now so familiar it felt like home. Without realizing it, he let his Switch slide onto the comforter and propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze locking onto you as you adjusted yourself in front of the mirror.

"Where are you going, Y/n?" Niki asked, already dreading your answer. "As far as I know, there’s no bonfire tonight, and we’ve got to be up at seven tomorrow. Every human on this planet needs at least seven or eight hours of sleep." He mentally cursed himself, him, the guy who spent nights staring at the ceiling because of insomnia, was lecturing you about sleep.

"I’m going out," you said, checking your reflection in the mirror. Niki huffed, sitting up sharply. "I see your observational skills are still top-notch, Shorty. Obviously, you’re going out but where and with who? Not that it takes a genius to figure it out."

You didn’t answer. You were too focused on applying a bit of lip gloss that made your lips look even more tempting than they had that night in the barn. The memory alone made Niki’s fists clench.

"I bet you’re going out with John, huh?" he asked, almost laughing. "What’s the plan tonight? Is he gonna gift you a fairy-tale book or recite some famous 19th-century author to flirt with you?"

You whipped around. "Yes, I’m going out with him, and stop making fun of him. At least he’s kind a concept you struggle to understand, especially when it comes to me." You jabbed a finger at him, and right then, your phone buzzed on the table. A message from John: "I’m here."

When you looked up, Niki’s eyes were still locked on you and you on him. The tension in the room was electric, thick enough to cut with a knife. Neither of you wanted to make the first move. You were both too stubborn, too proud, neither breaking eye contact for even a second until Niki finally spoke:

"Go on, Y/n. Wouldn’t want to keep your dear John waiting. Just remember...midnight curfew, or this bungalow might turn into a pumpkin… and I might turn into something dark." He smirked, and you looked at him with a small smile before heading for the door.

"Don’t worry, Niki. I’ll be back by midnight. And don’t stay up waiting for me."

The door clicked shut behind you, and Niki stayed frozen, listening to the sound of your voice greeting John outside. He dragged a hand down his face, groaning as he flopped back onto the bed, running his fingers through his hair.

Like hell I’m not staying up waiting for you, Wren.

Your date with John was going perfectly...too perfectly, perhaps and that was the main problem. John seemed like the prince charming every mother would dream of for her daughter.

You were sitting on the dock, wrapped in a blanket he had spread out with maniacal precision, surrounded by snacks and drinks arranged like a scene from a 2000s romantic movie. Everything was perfect: fireflies dancing over the water, stars twinkling in the sky, the moon casting a silver glow on the lake, creating an almost fairy-tale atmosphere. John was attentive, kind, funny, and you laughed a lot, he was the kind of guy who could put anyone at ease. For any other girl, this would have been the perfect date. But there was one problem for you: you felt nothing.

There was no tension, no attraction, no shiver running down your spine when someone looked at you in a certain way. John was perfect, yes but too perfect, like a character straight out of a book, one of those flawless ones, without the fire that made you feel alive. You couldn’t stand those kinds of characters because everyone had their demons, and it was beautiful to see people’s vulnerabilities and flaws. But John seemed to have none or he was just really good at hiding them.

"When we get back to Chicago, I’d love for you to come see me compete in the regional swimming championships. And who knows, if I win, I might even get you to wear a hoodie with my name on it," he said, smiling at you. You nodded, smiling back.

"It would be nice to come watch you. I’ve never been to a swimming meet only football or basketball games," you replied, looking around. He nodded.

"Then it’ll be an honor to be the first swimmer you come see at the campus," he said, preening slightly. A moment later, a light breeze picked up, tousling your hair. A few strands fell against your lips, still glossy, and you laughed but at the same time, you looked up, annoyed, because you hated when your hair stuck to your lips. You tried to brush it away, but John was faster. Gently, he leaned in and tucked the strands behind your ear.

"There you go, Y/n," he said, his hands lingering near your face for a second too long. Your eyes met, and in that moment, you thought only one thing:

Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me.

But John couldn’t hear your thoughts. For him, this was the climactic moment, like in a romance novel or movie where the two protagonists finally kiss and confess their feelings. He saw you there, cheeks flushed from the wind, hair tousled, illuminated by the moon’s silver reflection on the water and he thought there was no better moment to lean in and kiss you. Without thinking, he slowly leaned toward you, closing his eyes and tilting his face, ready to claim what he thought was a silent invitation but deep down, it wasn’t. You immediately caught the scent of his expensive, good cologne, so different from Niki’s that sharp, spicy peppermint that only he could pull off.

Before John’s lips could brush yours, your body reacted on its own a survival reflex. You jerked upright, the wooden planks creaking under your shoes. When John opened his eyes, he found himself staring at the empty space where your face had been a second before. You stood a step back from him, arms crossed over your chest as if protecting yourself from a closeness you didn’t want. He remained half-reclined on the blanket, wearing the most humiliated, confused expression you’d ever seen on a guy.

"I… I’m sorry, John," you whispered, feeling just as embarrassed. You seriously wished you could vanish right then. "I can’t… I can’t return the kiss or anything else." You took another step back.

"Y/n, wait...did I do something wrong?" he asked, trying to get up, but his voice was thick with the awkwardness of someone who’d just been brutally friend-zoned.

"No, you were perfect," you answered sincerely and it was true. John had been sweet to you from the start, and for any other girl, this date would have been perfect. "I’m the problem, not you. This whole date you planned was magical… but not for that’s the point. I’m sorry, again."

And without giving him a chance to respond, you turned and walked quickly toward the bungalows, not stopping even when you heard your name called faintly in the distance. You kept your head down, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, your heart pounding almost relieved that you hadn’t kissed John back and you realized it was pounding because you didn’t want a perfect prince, you wanted a guy with a thousand flaws, a thousand fears of admitting what he truly felt for you.

You tiptoed in, your heart still pounding from your hasty escape from the dock, hoping against hope that Niki had somehow fallen into one of his rare deep sleeps, though you knew there was a 99% chance he was awake (that guy barely slept at all). Your hope died the moment your eyes landed on the fully lit room and his hulking figure.

Niki wasn’t asleep. He was lying on his side, his feet hanging off the edge of the mattress, one hand propping up his blond head, and the other clutching your copy of The Mistake by Elle Kennedy, the cover already creased. Your eyes widened in horror at the sight.

"What the hell are you doing, Niki? Put that book down right now!" you shrieked, your voice shattering the silence as your cheeks burned.

He jolted at the sound of your voice clearly not expecting you back so soon but recovered his usual arrogance in a heartbeat. As you lunged for the book, Niki sat up and lifted his arm toward the ceiling. At over 185 cm tall, reaching it was like trying to scale a skyscraper.

"Damn, it’s not even 11:30, and you’re already back? That date must’ve been a disaster, Shorty!" he chuckled, flashing that infuriating smirk. You wanted to slap him.

"My date is none of your business! Give me back my book, now!" you huffed, rising onto your toes and uselessly trying to climb his solid chest to reclaim your precious paperback—especially since you hoped he hadn’t gotten far enough to read the slightly "spicy" scenes in the early chapters.

"Who would’ve guessed?" he continued, ignoring your desperate attempts. "Y/n, the girl with the perfect braids and the 'good girl' soul that everyone adores, reads what’s basically porn disguised as literature! Does John know? Or does he still think you’re completely innocent?"

You froze, hands pressed to your face to hide your mortification, not just because Niki had discovered your romance novels, but because they weren’t normal romances. No, these had full-on steamy chapters. You were too tired, too confused, too embarrassed by everything that had happened that night, so you snapped:

"Keep the damn book, Niki. Do whatever you want with it. I’m going to change." You threw your hands up in defeat, and Niki’s eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting up in shock.

Is she seriously letting me win? Just like that?

But he didn’t let you be. As you stepped into the bathroom to remove your makeup, you heard his footsteps follow you. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, watching you through the mirror as you nervously wiped away your mascara.

"It must’ve gone really badly if you don’t even have the energy to fight with me, Y/N. Come on, Shorty, tell me. What did that loser do?"

You stayed silent, but he kept teasing you, stepping closer and lowering his head to enter your line of sight. "Come on, Y/N, what did he do to make you come back so early? It hasn’t even been two hours since you left… Honestly, if I had a date with a girl I liked, I’d stay with her all night." He watched you, and you sighed, exhausted by his questions and the whole situation.

"He tried to kiss me, Niki!" you blurted out, spinning around so fast you nearly threw the cotton pad in your hand at him.

For the first time in a long while, the room fell into a deafening silence. Niki’s jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscles in his neck tighten like ropes. His mocking gaze darkened, and he lowered his face slightly, avoiding your eyes for a moment.

"Did you… I mean… did you kiss him back?" he asked quietly. You stayed silent for a few seconds, watching him, and saw a shadow of sadness, something you’d never seen on his face before—cross his features. Niki took your silence as confirmation.

"No, Niki. I didn’t kiss him. In fact, one of the most embarrassing things of my life happened. While he leaned in, thinking he had me, I moved away, and he just sat there with his mouth open like a goldfish, staring at space for what felt like forever until he realized I wasn’t there anymore." You said it all in one breath, and for a full minute, neither of you spoke. Niki brought a hand to his lips, trying to stifle a sound that was half sigh of relief, half hysterical laugh, and tried to speak—but you shot him a glare.

"Now get out of here because I need to change, and I just want to go to sleep. Please don’t ask any more questions, Niki." You pushed him out with all your strength, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

"Y/n?" he called softly, his tone suddenly serious.

"Go to bed, Niki. Please."

For the first time in weeks, Niki listened. He got into bed and waited for you. When the bathroom door finally reopened, he watched you walk slowly and turn off the small light, letting only the moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminate the room. You slipped under the covers and, for the first time in hours, felt safe maybe even at peace with yourself because Niki was just a few feet away.

"Sweet dreams, Wren," he murmured into the darkness, his voice completely sincere for once.

"Goodnight, Niki," you replied, your mind already sinking into the pillow. Niki waited until he heard your breathing slow and steady, and only then did he close his eyes. And for the first time since he’d arrived in Montana, he fell asleep too maybe because, deep down, he knew you hadn’t kissed that guy back because there was someone else in your heart, and that someone was him.

The wind howled outside the window, and the rain pounded relentlessly against the bungalow’s glass, the distant rumble of thunder stirring a mix of anxiety and drowsy comfort in you. You burrowed deeper under the covers, savoring that moment of peace before reality hit but it didn’t last long—the walkie-talkie every counselor kept on their nightstand screeched to life, and you groaned, stretching out a sleep-heavy arm to grab it, still half-asleep.

As you blinked your eyes open to keep from dropping the device, you saw that Niki was still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the apocalyptic weather outside. One arm dangled off the bed, and his face was twisted into an adorably childish pout—nothing like the arrogant, athletic guy he pretended to be during activities. The camp director’s voice came through clear and lively, snapping you back to reality, and you tore your gaze away from the guy snoring softly with his mouth open.

"Good morning, everyone," the director’s voice boomed from the walkie-talkie, followed by a chorus of groggy "good mornings" from the other counselors. You mumbled yours, too.

"I think you’ve all heard and seen what’s happening outside your cabins, trees down, the path to the main lodge is completely flooded. Strong wind gusts are expected today and tomorrow, rain for the next three days straight, and a violent thunderstorm with lightning is forecast for late afternoon." As the director spoke, you heard Niki let out a sleepy groan as he began stretching like a cat, his too-long, too-bulky body barely fitting on his bed.

"The kids are safe in the main building with us," the director continued. "Those of you in the bungalows will have to stay inside for at least two days. You’ve all got kitchens and enough food to survive. Stay safe, and please… don’tkill each other if you don’t get along. I know some pairs have… history, but behave, you’re not kids anymore! The radios stay on for emergencies. Have a good day."

Niki opened one eye, then the other, and looked at you, his voice still thick with sleep. "What’d he say?" he mumbled, sinking back into his pillow.

"He said we’re officially prisoners," you replied, staring at the low, gray clouds beyond the window. "Every time it rains, you and I end up stuck sharing the same space. It’s a curse." You pouted slightly, and Niki chuckled, watching you.

"Come on, wren, don’t tell me you’re complaining. Think about it—you could’ve been stuck with John. Having him around 24/7, knowing you’d friend-zone him after two..."

Before he could finish, you grabbed your pillow and hurled it at his face with all your strength. He burst into loud laughter, effortlessly catching it with his annoyingly quick reflexes, the pillow never even grazing his face.

"Please, Niki! Let’s not talk about John or yesterday’s disaster date," you groaned, sinking back into bed and pulling the covers up to your nose. You just wanted to disappear and forget the embarrassment of last night.

Niki stayed quiet for a moment, watching you hiding under the covers, and something in him swelled at how cute you looked. Without thinking, he said:

"What do you say we watch a movie or a show these next few days? We can push the beds together to make one big bed and watch it side by side?" He watched you, clutching the blankets tightly, waiting for an answer.

Your eyes widened from under the covers, a ping of anxiety shooting through you.

What did he mean by this? Did he want to be close to me? Did he want to sleep with me? Or was this just another way to tease me like usual? You wondered, pushing the warm blankets off your body. You saw him watching you and nodded.

"No problem for me. Let’s move them...at least your giant body that’s more like a pole will be more comfortable, and you’ll stop kicking at nothing."

He rolled his eyes at your joke but couldn’t hide a small smile. He got up while you were still sitting on your bed, and with ease, he started shifting the nightstand between you. In just a few minutes, his bed was aligned perfectly with yours, the two now connected with a mountain of shared blankets in the middle.

"First, though, I need to eat," you said, your stomach growling. "Otherwise, the next thunder you hear might be my stomach." You patted your belly, and Niki laughed, taking in the sight of you—hair tousled, way too cute for his own good.

The kitchen was tiny, and every time one of you moved, you bumped elbows or backs into the other. It looked like one of those cute couples from ads, feeding each other—except you two weren’t a couple.

Niki handled the moka pot, while you started slicing strawberries and bananas with surgical precision. He popped bread into the toaster until it was perfectly crisp, then began spreading on a generous layer of Nutella, so much that the edges were already oozing over as you watched him get his fingers messy, you laughed.

"That’s bread with Nutella, Niki, not Nutella with a little bread," you teased, sitting on the counter and swinging your legs.

"Life’s too short to skimp on chocolate, wren!" he shot back, stepping closer to add your strawberries on top of the dark spread.

You and Niki continued eating in an unusual silence for the two of you, broken only by the rumble of thunder and the sound of rain pounding on the tent. Every now and then, your eyes met, only to quickly slide away toward the window, where the clouds were so low it felt like you were in a place that wasn’t quite real a world where it was just the two of you.

As you took the last bite of your second slice of bread and Nutella, you felt his eyes on you. It wasn’t the look of someone who wanted to argue or tease you—there was something almost thoughtful in the way he watched you.

"Wait, you’re messy. Again," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and provocation, pointing to his own lip as a reference for where you should clean. "You really don’t know how to eat like a normal person, do you, Shorty?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to wipe your mouth. "If I’m messy, it means I enjoyed it. Or maybe someone here went way overboard with the Nutella, and that’s why I’m covered in it!" you shot back, trying to clean your lips with your index finger, but all you managed to do was smear the sticky mess even more. Niki let out a sound that was half sigh, half laugh. Without a word, he took two steps forward, then leaned in between your legs, forcing you to tilt your chin up to maintain eye contact. His hair was still a little tousled from the pillow, falling over his forehead in a soft fringe that gave him an almost "good boy" vibe.

Your heart pounded against your chest at his closeness. Niki hadn’t been this close to you since… well, that kiss in the barn.

He raised his hand slowly, as if giving you time to pull away but you stayed still, and you felt the pad of his thumb press against the corner of your mouth. A violent shiver ran down your spine as he traced the entire outline of your lower lip with maddening slowness. Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t look away. A moment later, he pressed his thumb gently against the Nutella smear on your lip, collecting the last trace of chocolate.

"There. All clean, Shorty," he murmured in a husky voice. Then, with a boldness only Niki could pull off, he brought his chocolate-stained finger to his lips and slowly licked it, never breaking eye contact. The intimacy of the gesture so forbidden, so raw—left you stunned, your lips parting slightly in shock.

You and Niki were centimeters apart, and if he had leaned in even a millimeter, your lips would have met again. You swallowed hard, and for a second… you wanted it. You wanted him to do it again but then, like a sudden flash, you remembered all the campus rumors—all the girls he’d looked at with those same eyes, all the girls he’d kissed so you took control of the situation.

"Well… thanks for cleaning me up," you said, your voice trembling slightly. You placed your hands on his chest and gently pushed him away, sliding off the counter in one swift motion.

"I… I’m going to the bathroom for a second, and then yes, we can watch a show. You can even pick it. Happy?" you said, rushing toward the bathroom and shutting the door behind you, pressing your back against it.

Montana had decided to play cruel tricks or maybe it was just trying to force you and Niki together as much as possible. What was supposed to be a brief storm had turned into an endless weather alert: the two days of forced isolation had stretched into four, turning your bungalow into a temporary refuge where you had to coexist with Niki for four straight days without stepping outside.

Incredibly, for forty-eight hours straight, you hadn’t killed each other. In fact, you’d even established a routine, though, of course, the jabs and teasing never stopped. They were what kept the electricity in the bungalow alive. Niki had teased you all through the first night after you, terrified by the thunder and jump scares from the horror movie he had insisted on watching (you cursed yourself for letting him pick), had spent the night wide-eyed until 3 AM until Niki, in the dark, had reached out and let you grip his strong fingers until you finally fell asleep. The next morning, his hand was still entwined with yours, and both of you had shifted closer in the bed.

You, of course, hadn’t let up on how useless he was in the kitchen, the man would’ve survived on instant ramen for all four days if you hadn’t been there. He had the uncanny ability to make even the water in the kettle disappear if you weren’t careful. But thanks to you, you ate normally. By the third day, you were exhausted from being so close to him, so you decided to hide in the bathroom for a regenerating shower, and honestly, you got lost in your thoughts, taking advantage of a lull in the lightning to truly relax—maybe even staying under the water a little too long.

When you finally stepped out, wrapped in steam, your eyes widened in horror when you saw that where you swore you’dleft your change of clothes for the night, there were only your panties. No shirt, no pants...nothing.

You swallowed hard, realizing you had to get out somehow, and you definitely weren’t calling Niki, he’d never let you live it down. So, carefully, you opened the door to Niki’s closet, which was right there within reach. It was filled with his "organized chaos" a system only he understood. Without overthinking it, you grabbed a deep burgundy T-shirt of his that smelled like him and tried on his pants but they were comically huge. The shirt, however, reached mid-thigh, and you thought:

Whatever. It’s only five steps to my closet. He won’t even notice I’m wearing his shirt.

You dried your hair, applied your sakura-scented cream, smelling of spring and cherry blossoms and opened the door. A wave of that fragrance immediately filled the bungalow, but your heart stopped when you saw Niki. He wasn’t at his PC, wasn’t playing his Switch, he was lying on the bed, his back against the wall, and in his hands was your Elle Kennedy book… that book… the one with the colorful Post-its marking the spiciest scenes.

"Niki, put that book down!" you squealed, your voice cracking with embarrassment. He burst out laughingm but when he looked up, his eyes weren’t on the pages anymore. They were locked on you on his burgundy shirt clinging to your body, on your bare legs, still warm from the shower, radiating heat and scent. You tried to lunge for the book, but with his lightning reflexes, he lifted his arms above his head. So you stood on your toes, pressing your body against his in an attempt to reach it but you heard Niki swallow loudly. You were so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, and you realized the shirt was riding up dangerously as you stretched.

"Niki, stop reading that thing! Give it back!"

"And why should I? It’s a good book," he said, his voice rough. "Every time I read further, I find scenes that are… decidedly spicy… scenes that you, the good girl you pretend to be, act like you don’t understand, right, Wren?"

You kept struggling until, with a sharp motion, he tossed the book onto the floor. You glared at him with pure hatred.

"Oh my God, I can’t stand you, Niki! You always have to snoop, you always have to touch my things! I don’t touch yours! I never touch the stupid drawings that you guard like a relic! And I don’t know how we’ve gone two days without fighting, you’re insufferable!" you shouted, turning your back on him to rush and pick up the book from the floor. But he moved faster, blocking you before you could bend down and this time, he wasn’t laughing.

"You’re insufferable too, Y/N!" he shouted back. "I can’t stand the way you look at me. I can’t stand when you pretend not to realize how damn hard it is for me to be locked in here with you 24/h, I can’t stand my own head, always bringing me back to you, making me imagine what you’d be like if you were really mine and I can’t stand that you play innocent and then read these stories where the characters do everything because it’s driving me crazy!"

He took a step forward, looming over you, and you stayed frozen, staring at him.

"I can’t stand seeing you in my clothes because I want to see you in them all the time, to mark you as mine but at the same time, I want to rip them off you and I hate....I hate with every part of me seeing you with other guys, especially that loser John. I can’t stand you because from the first moment I saw you in this damn summer camp, the only thing I wanted was for you to be mine and the worst punishment they could’ve given me was making me live with you, Y/n."

He said it all in one breath, and the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of the rain. Niki shot you one last burning glance, then turned toward the kitchen, heading straight for the exit door. He wanted to leave, to run out into the storm rather than face what he’d just confessed and you hated his completely bipolar personality.

But you couldn’t let him go, not after that. You were tired of this situation, and before his hand could grab the doorknob, you reached him and grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Don’t you dare walk away from me, Niki," you whispered, your voice low. "Don’t you dare leave me here after saying all that."

Without hesitation, you rose onto your toes, your fingers gripping the fabric of his burgundy shirt at his chest, and timidly pulled him toward you, pressing your lips against his. For a moment, Niki stayed frozen, surprised by your boldness so far outside your comfort zone but then, as if an electric shock had jolted him awake, he took control, not wasting a second to claim what he’d wanted for so long.

His hand slid possessively over your side, his long, warm fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. With his other hand, he cupped your cheek, his thumb gently tracing your soft skin in a way that stole your breath. The kiss shifted instantly, no longer the awkward, hesitant one from the barn. Now, it was passionate, desperate, as if both of you had been craving this for far too long. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers burying into his still-damp hair, while he leaned down slightly, erasing every last centimeter of distance between you.

His tongue insistently traced the outline of your lips, teasing, asking for access and you granted it with a deep sigh that sent shivers through Niki. When his tongue finally slid against yours, the kiss deepened, and the only sounds in the bungalow were the patter of rain, the howl of the wind, and your ragged breaths.

Niki let out a low, rough chuckle against your lips at the sound of your sigh, and he couldn’t wait to hear you moan in pleasure, to see you vulnerable and responsive under his touch.

"God, you drive me crazy, wren…" he murmured between kisses, before playfully nipping at your lower lip.

"Niki…" you moaned softly, almost worried someone might hear. His name slipped from your lips in a way that was so sweet, yet so sexy, it made him shiver for a moment. Usually, when you said his name, it was to tease or scold him, but now… now, you were saying it because yes, he was teasing you but in a way he wanted to do every day, to kiss you, to drive you wild with his touch.

Niki pulled back slightly, your faces just centimeters apart, and sighed near your lips:

"Tell me it’s the same for you, Y/n. Tell me," he demanded, slowly pushing you backward toward the sleeping area. A few moments later, your knees hit the edge of the "super-bed", and you tumbled onto the mattress, pulling him down with you. Niki positioned himself above you, supporting himself on his forearms so as not to crush you, while you kept your arms locked around his neck.

You tried to kiss him again, but he pulled back with a challenging smirk.

"No, no. I’ve laid my cards on the table, wren… now it’s your turn. Otherwise, we’ll stay like this all night… or all day tomorrow until you talk." He grinned, and the silence grew heavy again until Niki decided to torture you further, lowering himself slowly and pressing his lips against the warm, sensitive skin of your neck.

"N-Niki… please…" You whispered, tilting your head to give him more space.

"You speak just fine when you want to, Y/n, too well, in fact," he murmured against your skin, alternating wet kisses with playful nips of his teeth. "So tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, or we’re not going anywhere."

You clung to his biceps, feeling the strength of his muscles under your fingers, and tugged lightly at his hair to get his attention.

"Fine! Fine, you win!" you blurted out in one breath. "I can’t stand you either, Niki. Everyone, every single person told me to stay away from you, that you were trouble, and maybe you still are. But fate decided to be ironic and stuck us in this bungalow for the whole summer… At first, I really couldn’t stand you: you were grumpy, arrogant, you teased me every second, and you were way too bipolar for my taste!" You said it all in one rush, and he chuckled against your skin, his lips placing light kisses as they traveled up toward your jaw while his hand slid under the hem of your shirt, stopping at the bare curve of your waist. You bit your lip to hide how much you liked his touch—too much for your own good.

"Keep going, Y/n. Don’t stop now," he murmured against your ear, and you lifted your eyes, feeling vulnerable but determined to say what you felt.

"You win, Niki. Ever since you kissed me in that barn, everything changed… My feelings went out of control for you. And just like you hate John… I… I hated hearing the other counselors talk about you, hated hearing how good you were at kissing, or how they wanted to get your attention or end up in your bed. And yes, I’ll admit it, it drove me crazy with jealousy. So yes… what do you feel? That’s exactly what I feel."

You lowered your gaze, unable to hold his, afraid for a second that he might laugh at you or go back to being his usual cynical self. But instead, you felt his fingers gently lift your chin, and when you met his eyes again, you saw something different in his gaze. He leaned toward you, stopping a breath away from your lips.

"We’ve been two stubborn fools for not realizing this sooner, Y/n," he murmured, his breath mingling with yours. "And I don’t intend to waste any more time. We’ve figured out we like each other, and that’s all that matters in this damn bungalow but don’t think I’ll stop giving you a hard time," he added, pinching your side lightly to make you flinch. "We’ll never stop cursing each other out, right?"

You laughed and pulled him closer, nodding fiercely. "Never, Niki. I’ll never stop teasing you or busting your balls."You caressed his cheek, and he smiled against your lips a real, bright smile you’d never seen on him before and kissed you again, but this time more gently, as if he wanted to seal every word you’d just said into his memory.

That evening, you were tangled in the blankets of your "super-bed," kissing until your lips were tender, alternating between kisses and long moments of silent gazes while a K-drama played on the screen. Niki, who had initially pretended to watch it just to humor you, ended up being the most invested in the plot, commenting on every twist and teasing how obvious it was which of the two protagonists would fall in love first. He mocked how cliché and over-the-top it all was just to make any girl dream but even he couldn’t hide his interest.

But after a couple of episodes, you yawned for the tenth time in half an hour, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"What a lightweight you are, Wren," Niki muttered, rolling his eyes with an amused smirk. "It’s barely 10 PM, and you’re already crashing. Are you really just a little girl who needs her beauty sleep, or do you turn into a grump without it?" He watched as you snuggled deeper into the warm blankets and muggled into them.

"A lightweight? Please. It’s a talent not everyone has, to fall asleep in a minute and sleep more than eight hours,"you replied, your voice already thick with sleep as you settled more comfortably against the pillow. "I love sleeping, and I love going to bed early. It’s a natural gift." You closed your eyes slightly but could still feel his gaze on you, almost like a physical sensation.

"Stop staring at me, Niki," you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut.

"And how do you know I’m staring at you if your eyes are closed? Do you have psychic powers, Wren?" he shot back, amused.

At that, you suddenly opened your eyes wide and caught him red-handed. Niki, with his lightning reflexes, quickly shifted his gaze to the wooden wall as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world, but a guilty little smirk gave him away.

"Busted!" you exclaimed in a whisper, stretching a hand under the blankets. Your fingers searched for his, and almost playfully, you brushed the back of his hand. He stayed still for a second, didn’t fully intertwine his fingers with yours, but he didn’t pull away either. You felt his warmth blend with yours, and then he squeezed your hand.

"Mmm… I was thinking about that night you held my hand because you 'knew I was scared of horror movies'…"you started, teasing him with a sly expression. "Admit it, it was just a pathetic excuse to get a little physical contact with me. The camp’s bad boy needed to hold my hand?" You laughed, feeling his grip tighten slightly. He huffed, trying to pull away, but you were faster. You grabbed his hand firmly and pressed it against your chest, holding it tight over your irregularly beating heart.

"Shut that mouth of yours, wren, and go to sleep, or I’ll throw you out of bed," he grumbled, but he made no move to take his hand back. Instead, you felt his thumb gently trace the warm skin of the back of your hand, and you chuckled softly, savoring that moment of pure sweetness.

"Goodnight, Ki," you said but before drifting off completely, you did something you would’ve never dared just a few days ago—maybe it was the coziness of the bungalow that gave you courage. With a quick movement, you propped yourself up slightly on your elbows and, in a move that would’ve shocked your past self, you leaned toward him and planted a quick kiss just under his chin, right where a new mole was. Then, as if nothing had happened, you burrowed back under the covers, pulling them up over your nose to hide the triumphant smile lighting up your face.

From your privileged position, you caught a glimpse of his face through a gap in the blankets. Niki was literally stunned, his usually teasing eyes wide as they stared at you, his jaw slightly slack, and a faint, almost invisible blush tinting his cheekbones. You heard him sigh as he, too, closed his eyes, continuing to gently stroke the palm of your hand until you both sank into a deep sleep almost completely tangled together, hands still intertwined.

The fourth day of isolation began with the same terrible weather as the day before, and Montana showed no signs of letting up. The sky was still heavy with rain, and every so often, thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed through the windows.

After a lazy breakfast filled with whispered laughter and lingering glances, you finished the TV series marathon you’d both enjoyed. Niki, using the excuse that he hadn’t slept well all summer, finally gave in to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep that afternoon.

He’d dozed off with one arm possessively wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and you’d never have guessed, seeing him up close like this how much he looked like a puppy while he slept. At the same time, you couldn’t help but notice how much he needed to touch you. You’d already realized back in the barn that Niki loved physical contact with you, but after yesterday, he hadn’t stopped resting a hand on your waist while you cooked, playing with your loose hair, tracing circles on your palm, or kissing you casually. And deep down, you loved this side of him that he only showed to you.

You stayed awake, your heart still beating a little faster from his closeness, and finally picked up The Mistake by Elle Kennedy again. For over an hour, the only sounds in the bungalow were the rustle of pages and Niki’s steady breathing against your shoulder as he napped. You were completely absorbed in Logan and Grace’s story, chuckling to yourself at Logan’s ridiculous lines and underlining the most iconic scenes the book was now covered in colorful Post-its peeking out from the edges.

"I’m going back to sleep for a bit, and of course, you’ve used that as an excuse to get further into this porn disguised as romance!"

Niki’s sleep-thickened voice made you jump, and you instinctively pressed the book to your face to hide your guilty expression. He unwound his arm from around you, stretching lazily, his hair falling over his forehead. When his eyes landed on the book, a crooked smirk tugged at his lips as he took in the avalanche of new Post-its you’d added since the last time he’d seen it.

"Come on, Wren, don’t play innocent," he said, rolling onto his side to get a better look at you. "Admit you like it and admit you don’t just like it because it’s a 'romance,' but because of those spicy scenes you’d love to try for the first time in your life." He chuckled, and you let the book slide just enough for him to see your eyes a mix of embarrassment and something else.

Your cheeks were a soft pink, a stark contrast to the burgundy of his shirt, which you were still wearing. Niki thought you looked beautiful, but most of all, he thought your little pout was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

"Niki, spicy scenes are in every book these days," you shot back, trying to sound confident. "You shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not as innocent as you think. Okay, fine, I haven’t had… direct experience… but I know what happens between a man and a woman when they like each other. So…"

Before you could finish, Niki lunged at you with feline speed, closing the distance between you. His face was a breath away from yours, but instead of kissing your lips, he diverted to your earlobe, brushing it lightly with his lips.

"And what do you know, Wren?" he whispered. "Come on, tell me what you’d want the guy you like… who happens to be me… to do." He added that last part with the arrogance that usually made you furious but now, it just made you shiver.

You rolled your eyes, muttering that he was getting too full of himself, but your knuckles were white from how tightly you were gripping the book’s cover.

"Come on, Y/n," he insisted, his voice rough. "Tell me what those two protagonists do… what you’d want you and me to… replicate?"

You swallowed hard, feeling how much Niki was teasing you, pushing you. "I… I’d like to be kissed in other places… not just on the mouth," you confessed, closing your eyes.

Niki smiled against your skin, and you felt the warm, wet pressure of his lips just below your jaw, a slow kiss that traveled up toward your ear. "Keep going," he urged, still teasing.

"I’d like… yes, for your hands to touch me in places no one ever has… and at the same time…" You paused, feeling your cheeks burn. "I’d like to kiss you in a very specific spot."

Niki froze for a second at your words, his mind racing through all the possible scenarios of where you might want to kiss him. You heard him swallow hard, one eyebrow arching in an expression somewhere between disbelief and ecstasy.

"And where would you like to kiss me?"

You lifted a trembling finger and pressed it just below his waist, on the left side right where the lip-shaped tattoo marked his skin, just above the waistband of his pants. "Here."

Niki stared at you in silence for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. You looked at him with a slightly offended pout, but he never took his eyes off you. Still watching you, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and, in one fluid motion, pulled it off, tossing it somewhere onto the bed. You were left breathless at the sight of his defined biceps, sculpted chest dusted with ink, and that perfectly chiseled V-line that looked like it had been drawn by an artist obsessed with his muse and then there was the lip tattoo, now fully exposed in front of you. Niki sat properly in front of you, legs spread apart, hands resting on his thighs as he tapped his fingers lightly, fixing you with a small smirk.

"Come here, wren," he murmured.

You shifted cautiously, feeling a mix of vulnerability and nervousness, but deep down, you trusted Niki. You positioned yourself straddling him, and the physical contact was immediate, your bare thighs against the fabric of his pants, his large hands gripping your hips to pull you even closer between you.

Niki tilted his head back, watching you, and found you adorable in your hesitation, unable to meet his gaze.

"Come on, Wren… don’t be afraid. Show me what you want to do," he murmured, his voice rough. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his messy hair, and leaned down slowly. You caught the scent of your sakura-scented body wash on his skin and chuckled before beginning to place small, chaste kisses, almost shyly, starting from the base of his jaw and working your way down to his prominent collarbone. But when you felt Niki’s hands tighten on your hips, almost begging for more pressure, your courage grew. Driven by newfound confidence, you began to suck lightly on his fair skin, alternating kisses with playful nips. Niki let out a stifled moan as his head fell back further against the headboard, his skin already flushing redder than usual. You smirked to yourself, thinking that maybe tomorrow, the other girls would notice that this guy was secretly yours.

"Fuck, Wren…" he breathed, his voice ragged. You found a sensitive spot just below his earlobe, and when you nipped at it, you felt him shiver beneath you. You smiled against his skin because you’d discovered his secret, you’d found a spot where he was weak, and you couldn’t wait to uncover what other places would make him beg and lose control.

You leaned down further, exploring his sculpted, ink-stained chest. The yellow light in the room made every muscle, every defined line from his summer of hard work stand out, and when your kisses reached his nipples, your curiosity took over. You licked one with the tip of your tongue, and Niki jolted because damn, he hadn’t expected that from you… No one had, honestly, given how "pure" you seemed in everyone’s eyes. He gently grabbed your hair, pulling just enough to force you to lift your gaze and meet his desire-clouded eyes.

"Don’t stop… please, keep going," he begged, and that plea in his usually gruff voice made you feel incredibly powerful. So you continued to tease him, alternating your tongue with deep kisses, until your hands slid down his tight abs, feeling how hard they were, like marble, under your fingertips. You paused for a moment, biting your lower lip as you admired the masterpiece of a body that looked like it had been drawn by an obsessed artist.

"You’re really beautiful, Niki," you whispered, slightly embarrassed but also aware of what you were saying to the guy in front of you. Niki’s breath caught in his throat because he was used to the easy compliments from campus girls, the empty words whispered in hallways. But hearing it from you—while you looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world—had a devastating effect on him. For the first time, he felt something unravel inside him, and he didn’t know if it was desire, love, or what he felt for you in that moment. But he didn’t mock you. Instead, he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, looking at you softly and it was a new feeling for both of you.

"Y-You… you shouldn’t say things like that to me, Wren," he said, playing with your hair.

"Could you… lie down a little, Ki?" you asked, using the nickname that made him smile. He slid down the bed, propping himself up on his elbows to stay partially raised, desperate not to miss a single moment of what you were about to do because he was genuinely curious to see what you’d come up with. You tucked your hair behind your ears, and such a simple gesture made him swallow hard. With slightly trembling fingers, you hooked the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down a few centimeters, revealing the elastic waistband of his boxers—and right next to it, the red lip tattoo that had haunted your forbidden dreams for weeks. Niki let out a low whistle, trying to regain his usual cockiness.

"Well, well… the good girl’s aiming straight for the forbidden zone. Are you sure you can handle what you’ll find down there, Wren?"

You shot him one last challenging look before pressing your lips right over that tattoo, and the contact of your mouth with the warm skin of his lower abdomen silenced him instantly.

Niki clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the sheets, overwhelmed by the sight of you curled between his legs, kissing that intimate mark with devotion. Small shivers ran through his entire body.

You began to trace its outline with the tip of your tongue, lingering on the warm skin that pulsed with every touch, and Niki let out a beautiful moan as his back arched slightly off the mattress. You smiled against his skin because the camp’s "bad boy" was melting under your simple touch.

You moved lower, placing small, wet kisses just below his navel, brushing against the gray cotton edge of his boxers. Every movement you made, innocent on the surface but designed to drive him wild—and every time your body pressed against his thighs as you straddled him, you felt his erection grow harder, more insistent, pulsing against you.

"Fuck, Wren… you’re killing me," he cursed, his voice rough. Every time you placed small kisses right below the edge of his boxers, he couldn’t stay still because your lips always sought out his most sensitive spots, and he was reaching his limit.

"I don’t think you’re ready for a blowjob, Y/n… and if you keep this up, I’ll lose control. How about you stop teasing me and let… let me take charge? You’ve provoked me enough, little one. Earlier, you said you wanted to be kissed elsewhere… where?" he almost stammered, his voice shaking from how close he was to coming like a teenager if you kept teasing him with your movements and kisses. His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing them lightly in a possessive gesture that stole your breath.

"Look how you’re trembling… does it turn you on to know I’m the one affecting you like this? The guy you’re supposed to hate, the one you’re supposed to stay away from?"

You nodded as you sucked on the fair skin of his lower abdomen, instinctively tightening your thighs around his hips. Niki cursed again, his hand sliding up your thigh and squeezing the flesh with just enough pressure.

He gently rolled you onto your back, stretching you out on the "super-bed," and took a second to adjust his boxers before positioning himself above you, looming over you with his muscular frame. But he kept himself propped up on his forearms, careful not to crush you, and traced the edge of your lips with his thumb, his expression suddenly serious and protective.

"First of all… are you sure you want this? Sure you want me to touch you?"

"Yes," you answered, and he smiled—but it was a different kind of smile. There was no trace of teasing, no hint of the guy who loved to rile you up. Just a softness you’d never have associated with the Niki everyone described.

"I know no one’s ever touched you before, Wren. And I don’t want to scare you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. We’ll use three colors, okay? Like a traffic light. Green if you’re good, yellow if you’re embarrassed or want to slow down, and red if you want me to stop immediately. No pressure, got it?" He caressed your cheek as he spoke, and you were struck by how this rebel without rules was now the guy trying to make you feel safe and comfortable.

"It’s perfect," you whispered. Niki leaned down and stole a soft, chaste kiss before his hands slid under the burgundy shirt you were wearing. You felt his large, rough hands against your smooth, warm skin, and it was as if they were made to fit perfectly around your hips. He began lifting the fabric centimeter by centimeter, revealing your sun-kissed stomach, and murmured:

"You’re so soft…" He leaned down to kiss your skin, alternating gentle kisses with light sucks that made you gasp, and used the tip of his tongue to tease your ribs, making you let out small, muffled moans—part pleasure, part tickle.

"Color, Y/N?" he asked against your skin.

"Green…" you stammered, burying your fingers in his blond hair and pulling him closer.

"Can I play with your breasts?" he asked hopefully, his hand already toying with the hem of your shirt. The embarrassment was off the charts, but the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious, desirable thing in the world gave you the courage to nod.

"Green," you answered, and he chuckled. "That’s my good girl."

You pushed the shirt up over your collarbones, letting the fabric bunch under your chin. When your breasts were finally free, the dim light accentuated every curve of your beautiful body. Niki’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the contrast between your Montana-tanned skin and the pale, almost crescent-moon shape where your bikini had protected you all summer.

Niki had always thought you had a gorgeous body, but he hadn’t realized how much and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Fuck, Wren…" he cursed under his breath, his eyes devouring every inch of you. "You’re… you’re stunning."

He didn’t waste time. Like a man devoted to you, he cupped your breasts with his large hands. The contrast between the softness of your skin and the roughness of his calloused palms marked from summer work and weights made you let out a deep sigh. With one hand, he began torturing your right breast, using his thumb to press and roll your hardened nipple, while his mouth descended on the left one. The heat of his tongue enveloping the sensitive tip made you arch your back, and Niki sucked hard, sending electric shocks straight to your core for the first time. Without meaning to, you pushed your hips upward, unconsciously seeking contact with his hard, pulsing length pressing against his boxers, right against your thin lace panties.

"Ah… Niki…" you panted, digging your fingers into his blond hair and pulling him closer. He responded with a moan, loving how close you were.

"Christ, how the hell did I go all summer without putting my hands on you?" he muttered as his left hand squeezed your breast a little too eagerly, his possessive grip making you gasp.

"K-Keep going… but gentler on the left, Ki… I’m really sensitive there… my period’s coming soon." You stammered, and Niki lifted his gaze, his lips glistening, as he continued teasing your clit through your panties and squeezing your breast. A playful grin spread across his face.

"Fuck, that’s why they’re so full and hard…" he murmured, then began tracing slow circles with his tongue around your areola, blowing on it between kisses, savoring your endless shivers. After what felt like forever, he moved lower, licking the underside of your breast with long, deliberate strokes of his tongue, then climbing back up to nip at the pink bud with extreme care.

While his mouth made you feel so good, his hand slid down your smooth thigh. You felt his fingers creep up centimeter by centimeter, tickling the inside of your thigh and making your legs tremble, almost closing on instinct because no one had ever touched you there before.

"Color, Wren?" he whispered against your skin.

"Green…" you managed to gasp as he chuckled softly, his fingers not stopping, they slid under the elastic edge of your panties, finding you already wet and warm. Niki let out a sound of pure approval at how excited you already were, knowing it was all because of him, and that no one else would ever have this privilege in his life.

"Fuck, Shorty… you’re already ready for me," he murmured as his middle finger began rubbing your clit through your damp panties.

Your body arched with a jolt, overwhelmed by a pleasure so intense it was almost too much to handle. To increase the pressure, Niki pushed his hips forward, grinding his hard length against your still-covered core, and you let out a loud moan that filled the room. Embarrassed, you immediately clapped your hands over your mouth to stifle the sound, but Niki stopped, grabbing your wrists and pulling them away from your face, fixing you with an almost fierce intensity.

"No, no, little one… be a good girl and let me hear everything," he said, his voice rough. "I want to hear you moan, I want to hear you scream if that’s what you need. No one can hear us, remember? There’s only the storm outside… it’s just you and me here. So please, don’t feel embarrassed if you want to moan my name...it’s beautiful."

He returned his focus to your breasts, alternating hungry licks with gentle sucks on the lower curve. When he pulled away for a second, he noticed a small purple mark beginning to form on your fair skin. He thought about how he’d love to cover you in these marks, but he knew that soon you’d be back in your swimsuit or canoeing, so he’d save that for later.

His hands slid back to your hips, gripping them tightly, while his fingers inside your panties increased their rhythm.

"Green or yellow, Wren?" he asked.

"Green… please, green," you whispered, feeling him tease the edge of your panties. Niki pulled the thin lace asidewith a slowness that drove you wild, letting the cool air of the bungalow brush against your exposed, aroused skin. When his thumb made direct contact with your clit, the world around you seemed to dissolve—you’d never felt anything like this before, and it was so good.

"Tongue or fingers, Wren?" he whispered, and your eyes widened in surprise at his bluntness.

"I… I trust you. You choose," you said, embarrassed by his question. Niki lifted himself slightly on his arms, studying your expression as he saw how you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him at first.

"Green or yellow, Y/N?" he asked, stroking your cheek. You bit your lower lip, feeling the heat spread all the way to your ears from embarrassment.

"Green… it’s just that I’ve never done anything like this before."

He nodded, and with a gentle motion, he leaned down to place a chaste, reassuring kiss on your forehead, and that touch made you melt.

"Relax. I’ll make you feel good, Wren. Whatever you say, I’ll stop instantly, okay?"

With a fluid motion, he pulled your panties off completely, tossing them somewhere unknown. When his eyes fell on your swollen, glistening intimacy, he let out a deep breath and leaned down, blowing lightly on your clit, making you jolt from the contrast. Then, he gently spread your legs, draping them over his shoulders. For the first time in your life, you were completely exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. Without another word, his warm tongue dove into your clit, and you moaned instantly—it was a strange, wet, completely new sensation, and you finally understood why all the girls said they loved foreplay with guys.

"Fuck, you taste so good…" he cursed against your skin, continuing to tease you with small, circular licks in figure-eights, alternating pressure until you arched your back against the mattress. Feeling you were ready, Niki slid a finger between your folds, and you tensed instinctively, clenching your muscles. He stopped immediately, feeling his finger fully inside you.

"Relax, little one. It’ll be okay. Let me take care of you," he murmured.

You nodded, trying to regulate your breathing, and when his finger slowly slid in centimeter by centimeter, a sense of fullness you’d never felt before flooded you.

"Fuck, you’re so tight… you’re swallowing my finger, Wren," he said as he began to move it in a rhythm that made you tremble, sliding in and out with a patience that was driving you mad—because you wanted more, but you were too shy to ask for it. But Niki understood instantly.

"Can I slide another one in?" he asked, his eyes fixed on yours as they rolled back. You nodded frenetically, unable to speak.

"Good girl… I knew deep down you were this good, that you’d like these slightly dirty things," he teased, and when his middle finger, marked by small calluses from summer work, slid in beside the other, you screamed his name.

"Niki!" Your hands flew to his hair, pulling at it for support as he began to pump with more vigor.

"Damn, Y/n… you’re taking me so well…" he cursed, savoring the sound of your moans, which grew sharper and sharper. He began to coordinate his movements: while his fingers worked inside you with decisive thrusts, his mouth returned to your clit, sucking and licking in sync with his fingers to give you even more pleasure. That double stimulation made you lose all contact with reality, and you screamed even louder, your legs trembling on his shoulders

Niki manipulated you, both mentally and physically with expert precision, slowing down just as you were about to shatter, only to watch you beg for him. His fingers pumped deeper inside you, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision, and his voice was a dark, velvety whisper against your skin.

"Look at you, Shorty. Look how well you take me… were you born to be like this under me, huh?"

Shivers raced up your spine, and an unbearable heat spread through your body. You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes from the frustration of pleasure as he continued to tease you, his fingers pumping harder inside you while his teeth grazed your clit just enough to drive you wild.

"Ki… please… I… I need to come!" you cried, your voice breaking.

But instead of giving you what you craved, he smirked that infuriating, arrogant smirk—the one you usually hated but now loved—and rather than letting you climax, he used his teeth to tease your clit while his fingers pumped even deeper, searching for that most sensitive spot inside you.

"You want to come, little one? Then take it."

He thrust his fingers harder, now that your body had adjusted to their size, with a frenetic rhythm that gave you no escape. And then—you came, screaming his name, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Niki loved how his name sounded on your lips, how one hand was fisted in his hair while the other clawed at the sheets, nearly tearing them. Your body convulsed in endless spasms, your arousal dripping down his fingers and thighs but he didn’t stop.

While you were still riding the high of your orgasm, he leaned down and licked away every trace of your pleasure, the intensity making you whimper.

"It’s too much… Niki, stop, it’s too much!" you sobbed, but he lifted his head just enough to lick you again, murmuring:

"It’s never too much for you, Wren. Look how you’re trembling… you’re pathetic and beautiful at the same time."His hand gripped you possessively, pulling you flush against him. "Do you really think I’d let you rest now, after showing you how good your body can feel?"

And that night, with only the storm’s roar breaking the silence, Niki kept his promise: he gave you no mercy, pushing you to the edge two more times until you were nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess, obsessed with his touch, your body singing his name like a prayer.

When everyone woke up at dawn on the fifth day, the Montana sky was finally a brilliant, cloudless blue, streaked only by the chirping of birds. As the bungalow doors swung open, everyone breathed in that crisp air and the scent of wet pine and fresh grass the kind everyone loved.

The general gathering in the sports pavilion was a chaos of voices and laughter from the kids, who had been cooped up in the dorms with emergency activities. They were all excited to run and bicker with each other again. You smiled as Nina came sprinting toward you and Niki, hugging you both and complaining about how boring it had been to be stuck inside 24/7 with the other kids.

Thankfully, the damage had been minimal: a few broken branches had fallen, there were piles of pine needles and dead leaves forming slippery carpets, and a couple of clotheslines had blown away.

But the real surprise, the one everyone was whispering about and that had shocked even the counselors and camp directors was Niki. He was no longer the sullen guy who ignored everyone, shooting hateful glares at anyone who dared breathe in his direction. He was… softer? He’d always been good with the kids, but now, with the other counselors, you noticed he talked, helped, even smiled without grumbling. Sure, he wasn’t suddenly a ray of sunshine, but most of all, he seemed to have a magnet pulling him constantly into your orbit.

He teased you endlessly: if you were carrying a bucket, he’d tap the back of your knee to throw you off balance, and the kids would giggle every time they saw you two bickering from morning to night. If you were talking to another counselor, he’d insert himself into the conversation even if it had nothing to do with him. Sometimes, you’d even steal the sticks he’d just picked up, only to drop them again while he gathered more from another spot. When he’d look up, you’d just shrug, but every time your eyes met, there was a secret in his gaze—the memory of those nights in the bungalow, getting to know each other, teasing, touching.

In the afternoon, while you were setting up for the bonfire you’d all agreed to have that evening—a way to finally reunite everyone—you were arranging chairs in a circle. The heat was starting to build, so you stepped behind the tool shed to find some shade and water. But before you could take three steps, a strong hand grabbed your arm, pulling you behind the shed, into the shadows of the wood and foliage. Niki leaned over you, his hands settling on your hips.

"Hey, wren," he murmured with a smug grin. You looked around in terror, afraid a kid or worse, the camp director might appear around the corner.

"Niki! What are you doing? If someone sees us...."

"I’ve been trying to get you alone all day. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this," he said, reaching out to gently tug one of your braids, watching as your face flushed a deep pink but suddenly, you felt bold. You rolled your eyes, placing your hands on his bare chest under his open shirt.

"Mmm, so the big bad boy of summer camp misses his… girlfriend?" you teased, and the words "his girlfriend"hung between you, heavy and new. Niki flinched, he’d never thought you’d actually become his girl, and he your boy. He didn’t answer right away, but his eyes lit up with a new light, and with a fluid, decisive motion, he pushed you back against the rough wooden planks of the shed, pinning you with his body.

"Shut up, Wren," he murmured, his lips a millimeter from yours.

"Who would’ve thought," you chuckled, rising onto your toes to bury your fingers in his wind-tousled blond hair. "The guy who loved keeping to himself, who was grumpy all the time… needs attention?" You teased him, and before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you possessively.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And Niki wasn’t shy: as his tongue slid between your lips, claiming you, his right hand slid down, slipping into the back pocket of your jeans with a possessive grip, squeezing your flesh and lifting you slightly against him so you could feel just how reactive he was to your touch. His other hand pressed into your side.

"Fuck, I’ve missed you… you have no idea," he growled against your mouth. You smiled against his lips, nipping lightly at his lower lip, enjoying the small shudder it pulled from him. But just as the atmosphere was about to get too heated, the sharp sound of breaking branches and the laughter of approaching kids reached you from just a few meters away. With a jolt of panic, you pushed him away, trying to compose yourself as your heart pounded too hard. Niki took a step back, chuckling as he watched you reclaim your "good girl" aura.

"We… we should go help the others," you murmured, trying to regain a professional tone. "Otherwise, they’ll get suspicious… The director already has her eye on you for how much you’ve changed these past few days."

He nodded but didn’t take his eyes off you until you glanced back at him one last time before disappearing around the corner. Niki ran a hand through his messy blond hair, making it even wilder, and stayed there for a second in the shed’s shadow.

"Fuck…" he muttered to himself, shaking his head with an incredulous smile on his face. "That girl’s gonna kill me before the end of summer."

The atmosphere at camp had become electric a mix of childlike excitement and the bittersweet melancholy of feeling autumn knocking at the door. The end-of-summer dance wasn’t just an event; it was the culmination of all those months spent under the sun—laughing, joking, playing cards, but also fighting, teasing, discovering crushes, and forging friendships under Montana’s scorching heat.

While the kitchen crew churned out endless trays of snacks and finger sandwiches, the outdoor activities team had set up chairs, tables, and colored lights woven through the willow branches by the lake, turning the gazebo into a kind of crystal chandelier with golden threads. The kids couldn’t wait to see all those lights lit up.

The weeks spent in the decoupage group had been exhilarating, you’d watched piles of card stock transform into messages of love or simple friendship, meant for their dance partners. Your heart tightened every time a child asked for your help to glue something, to draw, or to write the name of the person they liked.

That afternoon, you were leaning against the metal slide, watching the scene unfold a few meters away: Nina had asked you to go with her to Thomas, and with her perfect braids bouncing on her shoulders, she was facing her biggest challenge yet, Thomas, a perpetually grumpy-looking kid with his arms almost always crossed and his gaze usually directed elsewhere, as if a thousand thoughts were swirling in his head. For some strange reason, he reminded you terribly of Niki at the start of the summer.

You watched as Nina handed him the invitation—the one she’d worked on for hours, drawing a Formula 1 single-seaterwith the numbers of Thomas’s favorite drivers on the side. And when Thomas lowered his guard, you saw the tiniest lift at the corner of his mouth. It was a silent victory for both you and Nina. You heard Thomas ask, "Why me?"

Nina was quiet for a moment, then said, "Well, you’re the only one who doesn’t talk much but says everything with his eyes or his face… And it was nice when I scraped my knee and you took me to the infirmary, and how every day, without anyone seeing, you changed my bandages especially the pink ones with princesses. So that’s why I want you to come find me at the dance for a little while."

Nina didn’t wait for an answer. She planted a small kiss on his cheek and ran toward you, her big eyes shining.

"He’ll definitely come find me," she declared, tucking a braid behind her ear. "Wow, Nina, you really have a lot of self-confidence. Never let anyone take that away from you when you grow up, okay? Promise?" you said, squeezing her small hand in yours.

But as you started walking toward the lake, the conversation took a turn you never expected.

"Who are you going to the dance with? I hope Niki asked you to go with him," she whispered, as if revealing a state secret, skipping along beside you. Your heart pounded at her words.

"Why… why would Niki ask me to the dance, Nina?" you asked, trying to sound indifferent, but the little girl just smiled knowingly.

"Well, because he likes you, Y/n. He’s been talking about you to me all summer. And I’ll tell you a secret...these braids?" She giggled, covering her mouth as if she’d just shared something she wasn’t supposed to. "He does them for me every morning because he learned how by watching you do yours in the mirror."

You were stunned by the image of Niki: his big, calloused hands, his famous rings carefully braiding a little girl’s hair, trying to mimic your movements. Your eyes almost welled up as you thought back to all those mornings in the bungalow, when you’d felt his burning gaze on the back of your neck through the mirror as you separated the strands. You’d thought… well, you’d thought he was judging you or just waiting his turn for the bathroom. But instead, he’d been memorizing every movement so he could replicate it on Nina’s hair.

"Nina, I… I and Niki, we’re just… I mean, he always teases me, it’s not possible that...."

But Nina wasn’t done demolishing your defenses. She added, with a touch of cheeky confidence:

"And besides, he should ask you because a couple of weeks ago, I saw you kissing near the tool shed. You’re not very discreet, you know? We kids saw you holding hands, or Niki pulling you away out of nowhere… or him coming to get you every time survival class in the woods ended. Those are things boys in love do… like my dad with my mom."

Your world tilted. The phrase "We kids saw you" echoed in your head like a gong. If seven- or eight-year-olds had figured it all out if they’d seen you pressed against that shed with Niki’s lips on yours then the entire camp knew. The other counselors, the director, maybe even the kitchen staff.

You brought a hand to your face and laughed nervously as Nina pulled you along, but before you went in, she said:

"I’m glad you’re Niki’s princess and not me… I’m too little for him but if I were his age, he’d already be mine!" She burst out laughing and ran off, leaving you alone on the path, your mind spinning.

The day of the dance had finally arrived, Niki had been asking you for days now and yet, you almost wished it never would. It was the last evening you’d spend together. Tomorrow, everyone would return to Chicago, and life would go back to normal, as if nothing had changed. Sure, you and Niki both attended the same university, but what would really change between you? You shook your head. Those questions would have answers in the coming days, not tonight. Tonight was meant to be perfect.

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror: the white and red top stood out against your sun-kissed, golden skin, the result of months under the open sky. The jeans with red stars hugged your curves as if they’d been tailored for you, and the soft, deliberately messy French braid gave you a playful yet polished look. When the sakura-scented perfumefilled the air, you felt ready.

As you stepped outside, you saw Niki leaning against the table, wearing his gray and red hoodie—the one he’d given you that night—unzipped, revealing his bare chest. When his eyes landed on you, you watched him swallow hard, and you smiled at the effect you had on him.

"Fuck, Wren… you look stunning," he murmured, his voice rough, and pulled you close, burying his nose in the crook of your neck as if he wanted to memorize your scent for the months to come.

"You don’t look so bad yourself, Niki," you replied with a sly smile, playing with the strings of his hoodie. "Though a shirt would...."

"Dream on, Wren. I’ll wear a shirt only at my graduation, my wedding, or a job interview not for a dance where there’ll be more brats stuffing their faces with snacks than people actually dancing to TikTok songs." He chuckled, pulling you even closer, and you played with his hair.

"You’ll have to cut this hair when we get back to Chicago," you said.

He rolled his eyes. "Mmm, why? I like it this length. Otherwise, when your hands go through it, you won’t be able to play with it or pull it." He grinned, and your cheeks flushed red. You gave him a light swat on the chest and muttered, "Pervert." His hand tried to slip into your back pocket, but you shook your head.

"Come on, Niki, we’re already late." He sighed, but when he placed his cowboy hat on your head, his expression changed.

It wasn’t just an accessory, it was a camp tradition, a cowboy ritual. He didn’t consider himself a cowboy by any means, but seeing you in his hat, the brim casting a slight shadow over your eyes, triggered a sense of possessivenesshe’d never felt with anyone before. In that moment, Niki realized you weren’t just his date for the night—you were his girl, symbolically claimed in front of everyone. The thought that in a few hours you’d both be on the train back to the city made him want to claim every second of the evening, as if to tell the whole world that you’d still be his in Chicago, too.

"Let me see…" he murmured, adjusting the brim with his fingers, which brushed your forehead. "Now no one will have any doubts about who your 'escort' is tonight." He smirked, and you dragged him in front of the bungalow’s mirror to capture the moment.

Niki huffed, pretending to be annoyed by your need for photos, but as soon as you positioned yourself, he stepped behind you. You felt his heat at your back, and with one hand, he gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look up, while with the other, he tilted the hat to create a small, private shadow between you, partially obscuring the phone’s frame. Then, just as the flash went off, he kissed your cheek and he knew one of those photos would end up as his phone’s wallpaper.

The warm lights danced on the dark surface of the lake, creating a magical atmosphere, and the air was thick with the familiar scent of campfires burnt wood, caramel popcorn, and cotton candy sticking to the kids’ fingers as they ran around, laughing and playing.

You and Lia had taken dozens of photos that looked like they’d come straight from a 2016 Tumblr feed: posing on a hay bale, holding a slice of pizza so big it covered half your torso, laughing with your teeth clamped around the rim of a red plastic cup, always looking back at the camera with flushed cheeks. At one point, you’d even herded a group of kids into the photo booth, helping them put on giant star-shaped glasses or fake mustaches until the line was empty and just as you stepped out of the booth, still giggling from your last "diva pose" with Lia, you saw Niki’s massive figure standing in front of you, arms crossed, that crooked half-smile that annoyed you but also sent a thrill through you.

"Have you two finished monopolizing the photo booth? There are other people who’d like to take some memories home, you know," he said, looking between you and Lia. Lia, never one to back down, pulled you closer.

"Oh yeah, Niki? And who exactly would you want to take pictures with? It’s not like you’ve become best friends with anyone here in the last three months!" she teased. He rolled his eyes, but his gaze never left your flushed face.

"Lia, there’s only one person in this entire camp I’d want a photo with, and that’s your best friend. So scram, please."

Lia grinned knowingly when she heard that, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. "Damn, this guy finally marked his territory. Thank God for that storm… you two were exhausting to watch—24/7 of teasing with zero payoff! Even the best K-dramas don’t have that much slow burn!" But before she disappeared into the crowd, she winked at you and mimed a "go for it" gesture with her fingers, reminding you of the pact you’d made: no thoughts for tomorrow just live in the present.

Niki took your hand, his warm fingers intertwining perfectly with yours, and nodded toward the photo booth entrance. The tiny plastic cubicle was clearly designed for kids, not a guy who was nearly six-foot-three. Niki went in first, muttering under his breath as his head nearly hit the ceiling. He sat on the swivel stool, leaving barely any room for you. As you hesitantly tried to perch on the edge of the seat, he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap.

"Sit here," he ordered, patting his thighs. You hesitated, and he huffed against your skin.

"Come on, Shorty, stop pretending to be some innocent girl. You’ve sat on these legs in way less chaste ways than this, and we both know it." He chuckled, and your cheeks burned as he settled you sideways on his knees. One hand slid up your bare leg, squeezing lightly, while the other rested on your exposed side, his thumb tracing hypnotic circleson your skin.

"Pick the filter, Shorty, but do it for two strips

one’s mine, and the other’s yours," he said. You nodded, not realizing that even choosing a filter would turn into a playful fight.

"Let’s do the one with the little stars! It’s cute!" you suggested, pressing the option.

"Stars? Wren, I have a reputation to uphold. We’re not middle schoolers—go with the black minimalist one," he argued, trying to nudge your finger away from the screen.

"Your reputation died the day you learned how to braid Nina’s hair. Deal with it!" you teased, and after two minutes of bickering and playful shoves, you settled on the most basic option: a vertical filmstrip border with four shots, ten seconds apart.

First photo: The countdown started, and you exchanged an amused glance, bursting into spontaneous, slightly shy laughter as you looked at each other, Niki holding you tight, you trying not to fall off the stool.

Second photo: You turned and kissed his cheek, and Niki rolled his eyes with a fake indifferent expression as if your kiss on his face(not even his lips!) didn’t affect him. But the way his hand tightened on your side told a different story.

Third photo: The mood had shifted. Niki gently moved your French braid aside, exposing your neck, and you locked eyes intensely. There was nothing shy about your faces now—close, hungry, his gaze full of possession, as if he wanted to make it clear that he was all you’d ever need.

Fourth photo: Just as the flash went off for the last time, Niki closed the distance, capturing your lips in a real, deep, possessive kiss just like him. He loved making it clear to everyone that you were his, and the photo captured it perfectly: you with your eyes closed, his hands pulling you even closer, his cowboy hat tilted slightly backward.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, now knowing he was your safe harbor, your fingers sinking into his messy blond hair at the nape of his neck. The photo booth felt even smaller with how close you were, and Niki didn’t waste a second. His hands settled firmly on your hips, his thumbs tracing small designs on the bare skin exposed by the cut of your top.

When your lips parted in a soft moan, he took it as an invitation, and his tongue slid into your mouth, claiming you. You let out a vibrant sound, and if anyone had been outside, they would’ve heard it but honestly, you didn’t care anymore. In that moment, there was only you two, lost in a mix of submission and longing that made Niki’s muscles tense as he felt you so close. You tried to shift, seeking even more intimate contact between your bodies, but he held you firmly in place, his grip on your hips pinning you to his lap, as if to say he was the one setting the pace—even in there.

When the photo strip finally slid out, the mechanical sound of the machine seemed to bring you back to reality. Niki snatched it quickly, almost fearful that someone else might see it. You both fell silent, staring at that last shot, the kiss captured by the flash was real, unfiltered. It looked so authentic that maybe, in that moment, Niki realized he’d found his person and he’d never expected it to be you.

"Fuck," he whispered against your lips, and you caressed the slightly rough skin of his jaw, where the stubble was just starting to grow. You bit your lip, still tasting him, and felt a flicker of anxiety creeping in because in a few hours, everything might change.

"Do… do you want to stay at the party, or go back to the bungalow?" you murmured, lowering your gaze and starting to nervously twist the end of your braid between your fingers. Niki watched you in silence. He knew, he could read every tic, every hesitation in you. He knew you were feeling uncertain, and he lifted your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look into his eyes darker than ever under the neon lights of the booth.

"Why do you want to go back to the bungalow? Aren’t you having fun out here, wren? You’ve been excited about this party for weeks, and now you want to leave already?"

"Everything’s perfect out here," you started, trying to find the right words, not wanting to seem embarrassed by what you were about to say. "But I… I’d like to spend the last night alone. I mean… completely alone. In our bungalow and we could… I don’t know…" You gestured between the two of you, and Niki lifted your chin with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. He silenced you, pressing a finger to your lips.

"You’re overthinking, Wren. Tell me what you really want… no beating around the bush." He watched you with eyes that were almost glossy with a new determination, mixed with shyness? But Niki wanted to hear you say it.

"I want you to be mine tonight… and me to be yours," you said, starting to nervously fidget with one of the silver rings on his finger. After dropping that bomb, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid he might push you awayor mock you but Niki visibly swallowed, not expecting such a blunt answer from you, it wasn’t like you at all. For a moment, the Niki from the start of summer disappeared, replaced by a guy who looked almost dazed by the luck of having met you.

"Are… are you sure, Y/n?" he asked, his voice almost timid, which made you slightly doubt the guy in front of you. "You know that if we cross that threshold tonight… there’s no going back."

You nodded firmly, intertwining your hand with his, taking the initiative to stand up. Niki sighed deeply, running his other hand through his hair in a gesture of pure agitation because in that moment, he didn’t know if he should feel like the luckiest guy on the planet or the most terrified at the idea of not being worthy of your first time, of not being gentle enough or unforgettable enough for you. He was afraid of ruining everything you’d built over those summer months.

"Are you 100% sure, Wren?" His voice was rough as he hovered over you, his forearm muscles tense from the effort of not pressing too hard against your body.

You rolled your eyes with fake exasperation at his question. "Green, lime green, eater green…" you listed, naming every shade you could think of, and Niki shook his head with a crooked smile.

"You’re such a little brat, you know that?" he murmured, pulling you in for a quick kiss before his hands slid decisively toward your hips. When the button of your jeans popped open and the zipper slid down, the atmosphere in the room shifted drastically.

Niki pulled off your jeans, never taking his eyes off you. And when his gaze fell on the red lace of your semi-thong, his breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, he was completely thrown off by your lingerie. He ran a hand through his blond hair, messing it up even more, thinking about how innocent you must’ve seemed to everyone at camp… but not to him. Not after discovering what you read, what you wore to drive him wild. When he heard your voice, he snapped back to reality.

"Do you like it?" you whispered, enjoying his shock with a fake innocent look. Niki let out a sound that was half groan, half choked laugh.

"I didn’t think the 'good girl' of summer camp was hiding these kinds of secrets under her clothes. I knew about all those romance books you try to hide from me… but this, Y/N!"

His hand slid down your inner thigh, and the cold silver of his ring against your burning skin made you jolt violently. You wanted to tease him, drive him crazy.

"There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Niki…" you stammered, trying to keep a shred of composure. He closed his eyes for a second he’d figured out the game you were playing.

"And what would those be?" he challenged.

"Let’s find out together, shall we?" you replied.

Niki shifted, kneeling between your legs with a slowness that was pure torture. He grabbed your ankle and brought it almost to his face, then began kissing your skin, starting from your ankle, moving up your calf to the curve of your knee. Every kiss was almost torture for you because he was doing it on purpose, going so slow. Each touch was like a brand, alternating kisses with light sucks, and when he reached your thigh, his kisses became deeper, more insistent, leaving a tingling sensation that spread through your entire body.

When he buried his face in the inside of your thigh, the heat of his hot breath made you arch your back.

"Niki… stop teasing me," you pleaded.

But he didn’t listen. His kisses alternated with playful nips on the tenderest part of your thigh, followed by slow licksthat made you lose all sense of direction.

"Higher…" you whispered without thinking, and Niki froze, lifting his gaze to you with a serious look.

"Since when do you get to give me orders, Wren?" he asked, kissing you just one centimeter higher, driving you mad because that was his intent. From the first moment he’d seen you, he’d wanted to get inside your head, and he was succeeding.

"Please… Niki, don’t make me wait like this, you’re driving me crazy…" you stammered, your hands clawing at the sheets to keep from grabbing him directly. He chuckled, satisfied with his effect on you, and lifted your leg even higher. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed your clit hard through the thin veil of black lace, laughing softly.

"Damn it…" you cursed through your teeth, arching your back and digging your fingers into his hair, not knowing if you wanted to pull him deeper or push him away because you didn’t even know yourself. It was definitely calculated torture, what he was doing to you, and you responded by squirming beneath him.

"You’re a bastard, take this off and touch me for real!"

But Niki didn’t care about your urgency. He wanted to hear you beg, wanted to see how far your resistance would go before he made you completely his. So he let go of your leg but didn’t return to loom over you with his full weight. Instead, he crawled up your body with the same slowness as a predator, leaving a trail of fire with his kisses. He started at the elastic edge of your lace, then your navel, moving up your stomach where your muscles twitched involuntarily at every touch of his tongue. When he reached your breasts, he paused to admire them in the dim light, as if he hadn’t already memorized every inch of you, while your uneven, pleading breaths lift

He leaned down with surgical precision, capturing your hardened nipple between his lips. The contrast was delicious and intoxicating you’d never felt anything like it before. The wet heat of his mouth against your skin, and his cold, silver-ringed hand sliding up to squeeze and tease your other breast, made you even more pliable under his touch. You moaned his name a sound Niki loved hearing from your lips as your fingers tightened in his blond hair, pulling him deeper.

He sensed your impatience and chuckled right against your sensitive skin, making your chest vibrate. Then he dragged his teeth over the tip of your nipple before blowing a cool breath over it, making you jolt violently. But you had no intention of just lying there. You wanted him to feel the same burning need you were feeling. So you hooked your legs around his hips, pulling him into your personal space, and began moving your hips instinctively, grinding your lace-covered intimacy against the hard, unmistakable bulge of his jeans.

Niki froze for a second, caught off guard. But when he realized your movements weren’t accidental, that you were deliberately seeking friction against his length, trying to drive him wild, he stiffened.

"Fuck, Wren… stop moving like that if you don’t want me to lose control before I even take my clothes off," he growled, his voice low. But you didn’t stop. If anything, you pushed harder, chasing that heat that seemed like the only thing capable of extinguishing the fire inside you. And when he finally matched your rhythm, pushing back against you in a synchronized motion, a simultaneous moan escaped both your lips.

"Please…" you whispered, almost without realizing it. Niki lifted himself a few centimeters, surprised to hear you begging him for something.

"What are you begging for, Wren? A month ago, you couldn’t even stand to breathe the same air as me in this room. And now? What are you begging for?" he asked, challenging you with his gaze. But you looked back at him, unafraid to show just how much you wanted him.

"You couldn’t stand me as a roommate either, and yet here you are, worshipping my body like it’s your only religion. So stop talking, Niki, because we’ve teased each other all summer, and I think it’s time to let all this electricity explode—the kind everyone saw except us."

After your answer, Niki didn’t waste another second. With a fluid motion, he grabbed the edges of your thong, his patience was completely gone. He pulled your panties off in one sharp motion, letting them slide down your legs and leaving you completely bare beneath him. When his gaze fell on your glistening, swollen intimacy, a victorious grinspread across his face. He felt like a king—the first to see you like this, the first to possess your vulnerability. And he knew the mark he’d leave on you tonight would be indelible, because only he would have you like this.

"Where’s the girl who was talking too much a minute ago?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched you look away in embarrassment.

"She’s still here, Niki… don’t count your chickens just yet," you shot back, trying to reclaim a shred of dignity as you spread your legs for him. That gesture drove him wild with desire. He grabbed your thighs and hoisted them onto his shoulders, leaving you completely exposed and at his mercy. Then he leaned in, and his hot tongue flicked against your clit in one swift motion. You moaned at the sensation of his tongue against your core.

"God, Wren… are you still this sensitive?" he chuckled against your skin, feeling how you trembled. "It’s not the first time tonight—you should be used to my mouth by now."

"Just… just shut up!" you cursed, but his only response was to intertwine his hand with yours, pressing it firmly against the mattress. That gesture...so intimate and protective in the middle of all this lust made your heart beat harder than anything else, because Niki could act like a jerk, but when it came to you, he became almost someone else.

His other hand held your hip in place while his tongue began to work in perfect figure-eights, pressing insistently on the tip of your clit.

"I need to prepare you, Wren," he murmured between kisses against your folds. "If you want me to slide my cock inside you without hurting you, you need to be ready to take me."

You nodded frantically, unable to form coherent sentences. And when you felt his index finger tease your entrance, coating itself in your arousal before pushing in slowly, you felt so good, yet so protected by him because in that moment, you were trusting each other completely.

"Look how well you take this… and it’s just one finger. Yet here you are, already begging for more with those moans of yours, huh? You’re just a spoiled little girl who’s discovered how good it feels to be ruined by me." He smirked, and you moaned loudly as he began pumping his finger inside you, filling you in a way that made you feel complete yet starving for more and when he decided you could handle it, he slid his middle finger in as well.

The impact was shocking, you felt the cold edge of his silver ring against the hot, sensitive flesh of your lips, and you screamed, arching your back and clenching your legs around his face, swallowing his fingers up to the knuckle. The contrast between the icy metal and the fire inside you made you lose your mind.

"Niki… oh God, the ring… it’s… it’s too much," you stammered but Niki looked up at you from below, his lips glistening with your arousal, and pushed harder, coordinating the movement of his fingers with his tongue, which continued to torment your clit. When you started to cry from the intensity of pleasure, he froze for a second, doubting if he’d hurt you but then he heard your words.

"I’m… I’m about to come… Niki, please, don’t stop!"

He relaxed, and a predatory smile lit up his face. "Fuck, it’s so hot watching you cry while you beg me to make you come." He curved his fingers inside you, and you, overwhelmed by the double stimulation, pulled his hair with desperate force, clawing at the sheets with your other hand as the climax swept over you. The final contrast, his tongue, his fingers, and that cold metal made you explode against his mouth in a violent orgasm that left you trembling and spent, coming against both his mouth and his fingers.

"Fuck… that’s my good girl," Niki murmured.

When Niki pulled away from you, you swallowed hard. He leaned in again to give you a soft, lingering kiss, charged with the weight of what you were about to do, and asked:

"Are you 100% sure about this?" His voice was low, his fingers stroking your hair. You stayed silent for a moment, and those few seconds of hesitation felt like an eternity to Niki. But then you found the words, and he relaxed.

"Right now, there are no red lights, Niki. No orange warnings either," you whispered, echoing what he had taught you the first time he’d seen you naked and touched you.

"For me, everything is completely green right now… I… I want… I want to be yours." Your voice trembled, tears pricking at your eyes. Niki reached out, caressing your cheek with his thumb. His eyes were glistening too, and a crooked, moved smile lit up his face.

"I want to be yours too, Wren. Today, tomorrow, for the weeks to come, for the next months… and who knows how much longer."

With fingers still slightly trembling, you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. "Niki… are you, by any chance, declaring yourself?"

He huffed with a half-embarrassed smile that tinted his cheeks a soft pink. "Fuck, you… you’ve made me soft too many times these past weeks, especially right now," he admitted, shaking his head, almost incredulous at the power you had over him.

"So… is it green for you too?" you asked, watching him closely. Niki’s eyes widened, he hadn’t expected you to ask for his confirmation too, but it was a mutual respect you’d found in each other. Then he smiled softly.

"Lime green, Tiffany green… I don’t even remember how many other kinds of green there are… but yes, it’s super green right now."

Your hands slid downward, meeting the buckle of his belt. With a determined but clumsy motion, you unclasped it, letting it fall somewhere on the floor. Niki didn’t waste time, he shimmied out of his jeans in quick movements, tossing them aside. When he leaned over you again, the contact between his erection, still covered by the thin fabric of his boxers, and your already sensitive, pulsing intimacy wrung a muffled moan from both of you.

"Take them off yourself, Y/N," he murmured. With fingers that refused to stay still, you played with the waistband of his boxers, sliding your hands up his hips before pulling them down. And when your eyes finally met his full nudity, his rosy, tense shaft already glistening with pre-cum, your pupils dilated with a mix of shock and desire at how big and thick he was. Niki closed his eyes, groaning.

"This… well, this is what you do to me, Y/N."

"Is that… a good thing?" you asked in a whisper, almost seeking confirmation of the power you felt over him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, chuckling softly.

"Yeah, it’s a great thing, Wren. Except when we’re in public and I can’t do anything about it."

Without asking for permission, you reached out and touched him, wrapping your hand around his hot, taut skin. You felt his breath catch instantly.

"I… there’ll be other opportunities where you can tease me like this… or where you can be on top of me," he stammered, trying to keep control as his muscles tensed under your touch. "But fuck, Y/N, if I’m not inside you in the next few minutes, I’m gonna come like some inexperienced kid. And I want your first time to be perfect." He almost laughed, and you nodded.

You watched as he reached toward the nightstand and grabbed a silver square a condom. "Don’t think the worst, it’s not mine," he said immediately, as if he needed to justify himself to avoid seeming presumptuous. "I asked someone I trust for it earlier and don’t think I planned this, or that I took you for granted...."

But you gently placed a hand over his lips, silencing him. You wanted him to know that his thoughtfulness meant more than he realized.

"Shut up, Niki. You’ve never pressured me into anything. In fact, I appreciate that you thought about protection. I’m not on the pill, and I want to do this safely."

He nodded, visibly relieved, and with expert but quick fingers, he tore open the condom. You, driven by curiosity, tried to help, but he gently shook his head, stopping your hands.

"Next time, I’ll teach you how, I promise… but we only have one, and I need to feel you as mine so badly that I can’t risk messing this up." His voice was urgent as he positioned himself above you.

Niki positioned himself with painstaking slowness between your legs, lifting your hips slightly with a pillow to ease the union. His eyes never left yours, searching for that final silent "yes." When you nodded, he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep kiss as his hips pushed gently against your entrance.

Feeling the tip of his cock tease your sensitivity wrung a moan of pure desire from you.

"I’ll stop immediately if it hurts, Y/N. Don’t be afraid or embarrassed to tell me, okay?" he whispered, his concern melting your heart, you’d never have imagined the guy you met over three months ago could be this tender with you.

"Please… I want to be yours," you breathed, your voice ragged. Niki didn’t need to be told twice. With a slow, controlled thrust, he slid inside you, and you both moaned in unison him from the heat enveloping him, you from the unfamiliar fullness you’d never felt before.

"Fuck… you’re so tight, it’s driving me crazy," he groaned through clenched teeth, feeling how snugly you clenched around him.

"It’s… it’s so big, Niki," you whispered, eyes wide. He looked at you with a mix of pride and worry, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I’m sorry, baby… I’ll try to be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re gripping me so tight it’s hard to stay still."

He paused for a few moments inside you, letting your body adjust to his size. You could feel every millimeter of him, and soon, driven by an irresistible instinct, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer. Niki cursed again:

"God, Y/N… you’re making it impossible to keep any self-control." He tried not to hurt you, but you begged:

"You can move… please, move."

Niki pulled back slightly, then, without warning, pushed in almost fully, and you clung to his shoulder as you felt the walls of your vagina stretch to accommodate him completely. It burned—it was an intense stretch but the sensation of finally being "filled" by him overpowered any pain your body had ever felt.

When he felt you slowly relax, he began to move, first with caution, then with growing fervor. His shaft slid perfectly inside you, lubricated by your own desire, and with every deep thrust, the sound of your bodies colliding and your moans filled the room.

Your hands sought his hair, pulling him closer as your nails left red marks on his bare back every time he took you harder. Niki nipped at your neck a possessive gesture that made you lose your mind.

"Please, Niki! Don’t… don’t stop," you pleaded, now lost in pleasure, feeling how warmly you welcomed him, how your legs clenched around him. Niki decided to change the angle and shifted slightly on the bed, rolling you onto your side.

"Niki, where are you going? What are you doing?" you stammered, eyes glazed, your breath ragged with a mix of lust and panic.

"Trust me, Wren… I’ll make you feel good," he replied with a knowing smile. Niki slid one arm under your back, pulling you even closer, while his other hand grabbed your thigh, lifting it decisively over his hip. In that position, the angle changed drastically, his cock slid even deeper, reaching spots you didn’t even know were so sensitive. You felt his shaft press with surgical precision against your G-spot, and the pleasure was so sharp that you buried your face against his neck, biting his hot skin to keep from screaming too loudly—afraid someone might hear.

"More, Niki… more, please!" you begged between moans, your nails digging into his shoulders. He didn’t need to be asked twice. Feeling how completely at his mercy you were, he intensified his thrusts: he began alternating short strokes, making you feel only the tip entering and exiting, tormenting your pussy, before plunging deep and powerful, stealing your breath. He felt like he was in heaven as your vagina clenched around him divinely, as if it had been made just for him. But it wasn’t enough, while he continued to claim you, he slid his free hand between your bodies and began stimulating your clit with his thumb.

"Niki… fuck, it’s too much! I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!" you cried, arching your back as the pleasure became almost unbearable from how divinely his cock slid inside you. He began whispering dirty, sweet words to make you lose all control.

"It’s not too much, Wren. It’s exactly what you deserve. Look at me while you come for me… look how beautiful you are while I take you like this." He lifted your chin, and you wrapped your other leg around his hip, erasing every millimeter of space between you.

"You’re so good, my little Wren… look how well you take all of me, look how you tremble for me."

You nodded, completely overwhelmed, until a second violent orgasm swept over you for the second time that night. The muscles of your vagina contracted rhythmically around him, milking him, and Niki groaned loudly, thrusting even deeper.

"That’s my good girl," he whispered, kissing you fiercely. You thought he was done, that your climax marked the end, but Niki hadn’t released his tension yet. With renewed fervor, he began fucking you again in that position, and the sound of his cock slamming into your pussy was the only thing filling the room, along with your breaths and moans. Then, suddenly, Niki’s muscles tensed he was coming too.

"Fuck, Y/N… I’m about to… I’m coming too," he stammered, eyes wide. You burst into tears at how stimulating it was to see him come, and as you felt Niki unload all his cum in hot spurts inside the condom, he stayed inside you for minutes, still, his chest rising and falling frantically. It was beautiful to still feel him inside, to feel his heat slowly calming, and he began stroking your entire body with infinite tenderness as you snuggled against his chest as if it were your only refuge.

"It was… it was beautiful," you whispered softly. Niki lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your sweat-dampened forehead. "Was it too much? Did I hurt you?" he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes. But you shook your head.

"It was unreal," you replied, making him smile in relief.

"I’m glad your first time was with me, Wren. And that you trusted me… even though I know I don’t exactly have a spotless reputation," he admitted, with a touch of melancholy that vanished as soon as you pulled him into a tighter embrace. With extreme slowness, he pulled out of you with a sigh, and you watched as he got up gracefully, removing the condom and tossing it in the trash before lying back down beside you, pulling you back into his arms.

The only sounds in the room were the rhythm of your breaths slowly returning to normal and, in the background, the muffled beat of the music still playing outside the summer camp. Niki lay beside you, his arm pressed against yours, and you could feel the cold metal of his rings absentmindedly playing with your fingers a nervous gesture that betrayed how shaken he still was.

When you lifted your gaze, you realized he hadn’t stopped staring at you, his expression unreadable. Curious as you were, you wanted to know what was going through his mind.

"Do… do I have something on my face?" you asked softly, suddenly feeling naked under his intense gaze. Niki shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What’s on your mind?" you asked, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the touch he loved so much, and said:

"I have so many things running through my head right now that I don’t even know how to act with you in this moment… I feel… strange, but in a good way."

You nodded and whispered, trying to reassure him: "You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Niki."

"What we just did was beautiful… I hope you know how much I trust you… and I hope that, despite my lack of experience, it was special for you too." You said it, fearing for a second that you might have been "not enough" for him because you knew he’d had more experience. At those words, Niki seemed to snap out of it and turned fully toward you, hovering over your body without crushing you, and wrapped you in a protective embrace, burying his face against your neck as if afraid of being discovered or maybe just afraid of the new reality you both found yourselves in for the first time.

"Don’t joke around, fuck… it was amazing from start to finish. I’d do it with you forever… don’t think or compare yourself to anyone else," he murmured, and you felt the heat of his breath on your skin.

"Wren, I can’t keep pretending to be detached anymore… I… I… I like you so damn much." He said it against your neck, but he was seriously afraid of sounding like a fool in that moment. You chuckled softly, stroking his sweaty hair.

"I like you too, Niki. I think even the walls of this bungalow have figured it out by now." You said, and he lifted himself onto his arms, looking at you with almost frustration.

"No, fuck, that’s not what I wanted to say! It’s not just 'I like you.' It’s just that I… I…"

Seeing his struggle, you gently placed a hand over his lips, stopping the internal conflict you could read on his face, and said naturally: "I love you, Niki."

Niki’s eyes widened, and he froze, as if you’d just thrown down a challenge with those words. The silence lasted a second too long, and you seriously feared he wouldn’t say it back or would pull away from you. But then he scoffed loudly, letting his head fall back.

"Damn it! I was supposed to say it first, Y/N! You beat me to it!" he exclaimed, visibly annoyed with himself. You shrugged with a sly little smile.

"Well, you could’ve been faster." You teased, laughing, and he replied:

"I love you too, Wren. In case it wasn’t obvious from the way I look at you or from how I’m currently trying not to look like an idiot." He said it as he couldn’t stop touching you, a new light shining in his eyes. You pulled him back to you, enjoying the warmth of his chest against yours.

"I’m happy to hear you say it. It was a little embarrassing watching you suffer so much trying to spit out those two words!"

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop smiling. "Oh yeah, very funny. I’ll get my revenge, just you wait."

And he started kissing you everywhere—your chin, your cheeks, the tip of your nose—whispering "I love you" every time his lips touched your skin, as if it were now easier to say it spontaneously.

"I’m really glad they put us in the same room together," he finally said, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you in for a serious kiss. "It was the best thing that could’ve happened to us."

"Definitely," you replied, laughing in his arms, finally feeling completely at home.

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