#24.6k likes???????

[segretecose]

not the coquettes literally reinventing nazi phrenology on tiktok

[hwanchaesong]

Folklore: A Trilogy (August)

Childhood friend!Jake X F!Reader

Synopsis: Ever since you left home to pursue the city life, you really did think that everything was over. Then you returned, and you still see him there. Will something rekindle and burn inside you once more?

word count: 24.6k

genre & warnings: fluff, angst, smut, childhood friends, kind of slowburn, summer love/fling au, this fic is taylor swift inspired (maybe you'll also see other song references but who knows), mentions of bullying & childhood trauma, cursing, drinking, party/festival, country side & small town settings, fights, jealousy, built up sexual tension, implied situationship, lies lies lies, sop (with bf!sunghoon), cheating (zont zo this, stay loyal!), oral m&f rec, fingering, nipple play, dry humping, overstimulation, creampie, kitchen sex, bedroom sex lmao, multiple unprotected (wrap before you tap!) sex scenes, appearance of other idols, & reminder!! the idols' characters here do not mirror real life! not proof read! etc etc mdni

a/n: this is the first part of the Folklore: Trilogy, which focuses on Jake aka our August. also the longest fic that i have ever written for now 🥲 and yes, i changed the 'aesthetic' moodboard bc i am obsessed with this kind of layouts lately 👺

ps. likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated! let me know what you think y'all. thank you so much and enjoy! 🩷

🎧 playlist

You stretched your back, muscles cramping from seven hours of traveling, drawing in the conventional briny ocean breeze that passes through the air as you stepped onto the sandy sidewalk, opening the brown gates and the creaking metal alarmed the people inside the building of your arrival.

"Well, aren't you home earlier than expected?" your mother greets you, giving you a welcoming hug when you enter the house and you take notice of something delicious wafting around your nostrils.

"Yes, there wasn't much traffic on the way here," you returned her embrace after dropping your bags on the floor, "and I smell something good." you remarked, heading towards the kitchen to find your dad bustling in front of the stove and your little brother mixing something in a bowl.

"They're chefs now." your mother jokes, following you in the kitchen and making small talk when the men of the house told you two to sit back and relax, to let them do the work this time.

"Wow dad," you peeked over his shoulders and you almost drooled at the delicacy he's concocting, "your cooking skills have greatly improved."

"Me too!" the youngest of your family spoke, walking over to you and nudging you with his elbow, "Look, I made your favorite dessert."

You lovingly ruffled his hair and ignored his complaints, knowing that he secretly loves it, "You're doing great as well, Riki."

You assisted with setting the table, sitting down in your usual spot and helping yourself to a large portion of food, wolfing the grub with the utmost gratitude because seriously, dorm and university meals kind of suck.

While eating, your mother decided to bring up a topic that you dare say, plain horrendous and tedious, "Now that you're here, you should come with us to the town fiesta before your summer break ends."

You groaned, not liking the idea of spending your beloved summer around other people, only wanting to be a couch potato, to sleep, eat and play games all day long.

"Don't be like that!" your father chides, eating a spoonful of the tiramisu that Riki made before speaking, "Besides, your old friends will be there. Aren't you excited to see them?"

Old friends. Pft.

Can you even consider those people your friends when all they ever did during your elementary and highschool years was to approach you whenever they needed something?

You hated them, really, they are one of the many reasons why you were determined to depart from your hometown. You only come back here from time to time because of your family. The moment you set foot into the city, you've already cut those stupid, snarky bitches in your life.

"Come to think of it, Jake will be there." Riki added, then you paused.

Jake? The aussie boy whom you've spent most of your childhood with? The same Jake who gifted you the largest teddy bear that he won in a shooting range in a local carnival?

You cautiously peered at your brother, asking him a mindless question for good measure, "Jake with a government name of Sim Jaeyun?"

"Yep, good 'ol Jake. Do you know that I'm taller than him now?" he snickers, visualizing the older boy's rage if he hears that comment.

"He's still here?" you asked once more, because surely, you thought that he's gone by now. Back to Australia to pursue a career there, it's what he has informed you before going your separate ways for college.

"Of course, where else would he be?" Riki side-eyed you then realization flashed on his face, "I get it."

"You get what?"

"You missed him." he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly that it had you slapping his shoulder in an attempt to terminate his annoying ass down.

"I don't! I was asking because he told me that he w-"

"Excuses, excuses." he cuts you off, waving his hand around dismissively, "I'm so gonna tell him that you missed him so dearly."

"Really?" you crossed your arms over your chest, a challenging aura radiating off of you, "Go ahead then, guess I'll give the clothes I bought to Sunoo and Jungwon."

He whined, you gave him the cold-shoulder, he pulled your hair, you yelled at him and you nearly went nuts when he licked your spoon filled with the last tidbits of the chocolate goodness. (which he knows is your pet peeve.)

Before a fight breaks out, your parents ushered you both to your respective rooms, saying that they'll take care of the dishes. Rubbing their foreheads and saying something along the lines of 'sibling dynamics never change.'

While showering, you pondered over the invitation, maybe you should go. Check out what's new, totally not because of a certain someone... you think?

Jake was your closest companion back then, a kind person with a heart of gold. If anything, you'd call him your true friend. He made you laugh, shared his food with you, and did everything together; attached to the hip like you two were born from the same seed.

Not until he told you that he's moving back to Australia to attend a university that he's been dreaming of since he was young.

You remembered crying yourself to sleep that day, then you made the decision to study in the city because there is no way in hell you'll survive college life here without your one and only friend.

So it really was a surprise to you when Riki revealed that he's still here. Does that mean that moving out was nothing but a mistake on your part? Does that mean that you could've stayed here and lived a peaceful life instead of hustling in a swarming city?

You shook your head, 'Y/N, don't be silly.' If you didn't explore outside your small town, then you wouldn't have the chance to meet him.

A giddy smile crept up your lips at the thought of your boyfriend. One day, you'll bring him here and he'll definitely love the area, especially the lake when it's frozen so he could skate on it, then you'll be there beaming then-

You slapped your soapy cheeks with both hands, scolding yourself for daydreaming, 'Stop being a delulu! It's only been a few months since you started dating him!'

You quickly rinsed and dried your hair, changing into some of your comfortable childhood pajamas and letting yourself fall into dreamland.

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

"What the fu-" you must have resembled that one Morty meme when he woke up, because who on earth is making all the noise downstairs when it's... oh, it's 1 PM. Dang, you slept that long? Like a log even.

You went to the bathroom and freshened yourself up, and when you deemed yourself presentable enough, you headed down to check what the commotion was about.

You definitely heard Riki shouting, but there is someone else. A voice that is eerily familiar but is somehow foreign to your ears.

You steadily walked into the living room, ceasing when you detected a mop of long black hair sitting next to your brother's shorter one.

"Huh?" you unconsciously uttered, catching the attention of the boys who are currently playing Mario Kart.

"Y/N?"

The rotation of the earth seemed to slow down when you saw him again.

There he was, the old friend that saved you from a gloomy childhood.

"Jake?" you hesitantly called out, making him smile, nodding his head in your direction before standing up and lurching towards you for a bone crushing hug.

"Y/N!"

"Jake!"

You hugged each other for what felt like hours, disconnecting when Riki cleared his throat, standing up from his position on the couch and retreating in the kitchen, "Imma go and fetch us some snacks, call me when you're done being lovey-dovey."

You rolled your eyes at your sibling's sass, returning your attention to the sunny boy in front of you.

"How are you? You look great!" he beams, tightly holding your hand in his while he scans you from head to toe.

It kind of made you self conscious, wishing that you should've made an effort to dress better but hey! He's your sweet, lovely Jake, you’re assured that there's no ill intention behind his stare.

"I’m good, busy with college and all. How about you? You look fine as heck!" you answered him with all the sincerity that you could muster, especially at the last part of your statement.

He looks great, like really great. You’ll even say that he’s transformed into an actual disney prince.

You do hark back to him being one of the rare good looking bunch of kids , but boy, did you not expect puberty to hit him like a bullet train.

Given that Riki is taller than him (man did not lie), his visuals are insane. He retained his puppy-like eyes, prominent cheekbones that were the result of his baby fats disappearing, his tall nose and jawline that are now sharper than a knife, and his lips.. his godforsaken lips. It's fuller and thicker, and not to mention, his beige skin is glowing.

He's a totally different person from what you can remember, and the more you observe him, the more you discern how much of a man he became. Only did you realize that you were blanking out when his phone rang, and being the nosey person that you are, you couldn't help but peek at the caller.

'Yuna.'

Oh, so he has a girlfriend. Well, you should have expected that. A pretty boy like him would surely bag any girl that he wanted.

"Right, I'll be there in ten." he ended the call and turned to you with an apologetic smile, "Guess we'll continue this talk later."

"I don’t mind, no problem."

Perfect if you say so, it'll give you some extra time to relax and sink the newfound information in your brain, that your childhood friend grew up into a dashing, debonair man.

"Here, give me your number so we could easily communicate." he hands you his phone, allowing you to type and save your contact.

"You're leaving?" just then, Riki emerges from the kitchen, holding a tray of munchies and setting it on the coffee table.

"Yeah, sorry man, I need to do something."

Riki side-eyes his friend with a sarcastic hum. (you think that side-eyeing people is his new habit from the amount of times he did it within a short span of time.)

"Do something or do someone?" Riki haphazardly asked, making Jake glance at you nervously, an awkward chuckle erupting from him.

"It's not like that," he glances at the clock, clicking his tongue and bidding his goodbyes, "I gotta go now. Y/N, I'll text you later."

He waves at you both, bolting through the door and Riki lets out a sardonic laugh, "Look at that fuckboy, so ready to get his dick wet."

"Hey," you pinched Riki's cheek, earning yourself a pained drone from him, "watch it. Since when did you learn vulgar words like that."

He swats your hand away, "Since birth. Ouch! Stop it!" he protests when you start pinching him more, not appreciating his raw sass.

"But really, he's a fuckboy now?" you inquired, flopping on the couch and grabbing a cookie from the plate, chomping on it while you watch Riki pour some juice for you two.

"Why? Are you jealous?" he teased, doing that same taunting eyebrow wiggle that you hate so much.

"I will literally choke you." you threatened, making him raise his hands up in surrender.

"Simmer down." he sat next to you, exiting Mario Kart and opting to play some anime on Netflix, "I don't know if it's true or not, but word from others is that Jake's been screwing girls since last year."

"Is that so?" you nonchalantly replied, listening to your brother gossip but then you got lost in your own thoughts.

The rumors are bad, but you somehow can't bring yourself to believe it. In the short amount of time since you've left, maybe some things have really changed. You wouldn't know, you weren't here to witness it.

You shrugged and watched the anime playing on the tv, something about a reincarnated slime. This is a good distraction instead of waiting for Jake to text you.

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

You don't know what came over you when you heard your phone go off, the message notification sound making your heart skip a bit. You hurriedly got off your vanity and laid down on your bed, gripping the phone and opening the text.

'Hey Y/N! Jake here, this message is kinda late, so sorry, I got caught up with something.'

You smiled and saved his number, typing in a reply... which you didn't give much consideration to and now you are regretting your uninhibited decisions for sending that.

You (8:45 PM):

Got caught up by your girlfriend? Who was she again, Yuna?

Jake (8:46 PM):

You saw that?

Noo, it wasn't like that I swear. I helped her fix her brother’s computer. She is just a friend, nothing more, nothing less.

Again, you don't know what came over you as you rolled over your bed, staggering at the fact that he's explaining himself even though he’s not required to. And you guessed you took too long to reply when your phone buzzed, signaling that he's calling you.

You straightened your back, clicking the green button, "Hello," his voice sounded gruff over the speaker, "are you mad? Promise, she's not my girlfriend or anything. Please don't be mad."

Straight to the point, you see, and his chatterbox personality still comes out whenever he gets mousy about something.

"Jake, chill out." you giggled when you heard his relieved sigh from the other side, "I'm not mad at you, I just did something for a while." you lied, "Besides, why would I be angry if you got a girlfriend?"

There was a beat of silence before he spoke, "I mean, we did make a promise back then so.." he trails off, and the flashback about your salad days takes over.

"Promise me that I'll be the only girl in your life!" you cried, smacking little Jake on the head.

"Ack!" he yowled, his tiny hands flying to the stinging area of his skull.

You were being unreasonable, but the thought of losing Jake to that ugly girl in class 2-A made your younger self throw a tantrum. Wailing like a toddler while stomping around the empty playground.

"Y/N! I didn't do it on purpose! She touched me first!" Jake tried to explain, sprinting to you when you accidentally tripped on a rock, face planting on the dirt, "Are you okay?!"

You hurriedly sat up, not wanting to look weak despite your crying and looked at him, staring at his teary eyes, maybe you are being unfair to him.

You sniffled, wiping your tears away before mumbling, "Just promise me."

Jake sighs, dropping to his knees in front of you and holding his pinky finger out, linking it with yours forcefully but with care, "I promise you, in the name of all my ancestors, that you'll be the one and only girl in my life!" he exclaims, giving you a toothy smile that immediately soothes all your stupid concerns.

"Well, except for my mom and Layla... and maybe some relatives."

You bit your lower lip, heart rate speeding up, "You haven't forgotten about that? We're like, what? Eight?"

"I take my pinky promises seriously!" he declares, making you laugh heartily at his mindless yet captivating jest.

"So, wanna catch up? Let's hang out at the beach." he suddenly proposed, catching you off guard. You peeked at the clock, it's nearing 9 PM but oh well, you're old enough to do this, unlike before that you had to sneak out of the house just to meet up with him.

"Yeah sure. Just give me a few minutes." you agreed and he happily cheered, the call ended after that and you hurriedly stood from your bed; Fixing your hair in the mirror, making sure to spray a decent amount of perfume and tiptoeing out of your house, trudging the road for a seven to ten minutes stroll to the beach.

When you arrived, Jake was already there, fixing a blanket that you assumed he brought so the two of you can sit comfortably instead of getting sand on your buttocks.

"Hello, kind sir." you greeted him like a princess, bowing to him gracefully.

"Hello to you too, mademoiselle." he takes your hand as he mimics the bow that you did.

"You speak french now?" you razzed, resting on the blanket first and tapping the space beside you.

"I was trying to go along with whatever skit you're doing." he says, his tone sprinkled with some attitude but nonetheless still sat beside you.

The atmosphere was tranquil as you both stared at the clear night skies, letting the evening wind blow through your faces, bringing a sense of solace that you really missed.

Until your mouth itches and you break the congenial quietude, bringing up the topic that has been bothering you.

"Say Jake," you started, staring right ahead and disregarding his sparkling eyes that he directed at you when he heard your voice, "you told me that you're going back to Australia for college. It really was a surprise that you're still here. What happened?"

He averted his gaze when you went and returned his stare, "Nothing. Just.. something came up, so my parents told me to stay here instead."

You frowned, your guts telling you that he wasn't telling you the entire truth, but you ultimately decided to let it go for now. You don't want to make him uncomfortable by pushing him to open up to you, knowing that it's been a while since you two had hung out.

Heck, you think- no, you believe that he's closer to your brother now.

You let out a sigh, giving him a covert smile and patting his back, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Nah, it's fine." his mood shifted into a lighter one, seizing your hand on his shoulder and clasping it into his, "Aside from that, I'm glad that I didn't leave, because if I did," he squeezes your hand, his warmth seeping through your bones, "I wouldn't be able to see you again."

For the nth time that night, for whatever mysterious reason, you went and reciprocated his actions, squeezing his hand tighter, sitting next to him closer, and smiling blithely at him, "Welps, I'm here now." you whisper, and you swear you saw something twinkle in his irises.

"You are." he smiles back, releasing your hand and slinging an arm over your shoulders, "That is why we need to make the most of it, okay?"

You hummed, leaning on his side and snuggling under his hold.

You’ll later say that you missed him, that’s it. You missed your friend, the person who stuck by your side despite your annoying and messy ass.

There's nothing wrong with spending time with a person that you had regarded as your human diary, the person that you once held feelings for. That was all in the past, for now, you'll catapult your qualms away and enjoy the moment.

When it was getting colder, Jake offered to walk you home, laughing like some elementary schoolers while trudging to your house, talking about the dumbest shit you had done during your juvenile years.

It was nice, it was always nice being with him. A sense of warmth within you knowing that you're safe when you're with him.

The reminiscing went to a halt when you stood by your humble abode's gates, "Welps, I'll see you again soon." you stood awkwardly, like you wanted to say more, to do more, but you don't know what words or actions there are to say or do. 

Finally, Jake took the initiative and stepped towards you, enveloping you in his arms and wishing you a good night before parting your own ways. 

As you lay down on your mattress, drowsiness lulling you to sleep, you couldn't help but think about the light pressure on the crown of your head when Jake hugged you.

You chose to remain ignorant, along with the thunderous thumping of your heart in your chest.

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

"Oh my god! He's a hottie!" Sunoo exclaimed, gaping at the picture on your phone.

"Let me see!" Jungwon dropped the other side of the shirt that he's been vying for with Riki, making the younger stumble on the floor, the other dashing on Sunoo's spot on the couch.

Your brother groaned, rubbing his stinging buttocks that made contact with the cold wooden tiles, "That fucking hurt."

"Language, Riki." your scolding fell on deaf ears as he continued muttering curses under his breath, directing such vile words to his friends.

You, Riki, and his childhood friends’, Jungwon and Sunoo, are currently in the living room, busting out the souvenirs that you bought for them when the topic of your boyfriend was brought up. (courtesy by the pocketz.)

They were whining to you, begging you to show them a photo, to which you shyly presented your phone up, your lover's social media account opened and ready for them to rubberneck at. It was safe to say that they were awed by his visuals, except for your bratty younger brother.

"I'm much more handsome than him," he comments, draping his body all over the boy who's holding the gadget and looking at the image as well, "bet I'm taller than him too."

"Shut up. Is height your only way of hyping yourself?" Sunoo rolled his eyes, shoving Riki off of him and letting Jungwon grab the phone and have his turn of stalking your boyfriend's instagram account.

"Wow, Y/N, your man looks like he came out straight from a manhwa." Jungwon stated, "And no, sorry Riki, I love you but there is no way you're more handsome than this guy."

"Whatever." Riki gave it up, choosing to hide the shirt that he's keeping tabs on from the corner of the box that made Sunoo shriek, yelling that he already called dibs on the piece of fabric.

Jungwon returned your phone back to you, going over to his friends and joining the chaos.

You chewed on your lower lip, staring at your boyfriend's picture. He does look ethereal. Standing in a field, looking sideways to subtly flex his side profile, and to top it off, the mixture of bright orange-blue hues of the skies highlight his sharp, charming visuals even further.

Your dopey smile was difficult to fight off, suddenly missing him and wishing for him to appear out of nowhere so you could hug and kiss him.

"What's the commotion all about?"

A wild Jake appears, infiltrating your home with a grin and scanning the area before sauntering to the venue of the ruckus You quickly close your phone, tossing it on the table and giving the aussie a side hug when he flumps on the unoccupied space beside you.

"These boys are bickering over the clothes that I bought." you explained, answering his question as he scrutinized the three idiots who kept on fighting over a hoodie, ignoring his existence in the room. "Apparently, they love these kinds of styles."

"I bet they do. Look at them going crazy over a pink hoodie." Jake derides, kicking Jungwon on the butt and chastising them for not even sparing him a glance when he popped up in the room.

"Sorry, didn't see you there hyung." Jungwon nonchalantly says, the other two temporarily paused and muttered an uninterested 'hello' before going back to their serious business of sorting outfits.

"Wow, really these guys." Jake sighs in displeasure, a grimace on his face as he watches the youngsters, "How long have they been at it?"

"About.." you trailed off, peeking at the time, "two hours now. It's getting kinda boring."

Jake pondered for a while, after a minute or two he turned to you and fished out his car keys, dangling it in front of you with a smirk on his face and hazel orbs full of mischief, "Whaddya think of a ride around town?"

You blinked at his spontaneous behavior, shrugging and pretending to think about the suggestion even if you already had an answer, "Sure. I mean, there's nothing much to do here."

Jake cheered and made a dash towards his car, mumbling something about revving it up and you have to come quick. You shook your head endearingly at his excited demeanor, truly like a puppy.

You went to follow him but not before telling the boys who are, until now, arguing over the mundane things about your souvenirs, "Y'all, I'm going out for a while. Look out for the house while I'm gone, and don't destroy anything while mom and dad are not here too."

You stood there for a while, observing their squabble, then you chose to drop the formalities since they're too centered in their own world to even give you the time of their day.

"No, I'm telling you, this is my size!"

"You're too puny for this, c'mon man, be serious."

"I ain't the size of your dick."

"Wha-! Say that again you fuckhead!"

Truly a pandemonium, you purse your lips and rubbed your forehead, shooting your parents a text about your whereabouts and leaving the house altogether because some children just won't listen.

Something scintillated within you when you saw Jake patiently waiting outside, leaning on his car and playing with his phone.

You took your time to extensively admire him, finally seeing him in a holistic perspective.

Him, standing there with his leather jacket, clad in an all black outfit down to his shoes. His charcoal tresses flowing the same way as the wind and oh, how he glows under the glittering rays of the afternoon sunlight is blinding you.

He's flawless.

"Yoi!" you snapped out of it when he called for you, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to get on. 

You hurriedly went in, suspiciously not making eye contact, making you miss the knowing look he sent you. Now, you tried to relax, sitting on the leather seat but my god... his scent is so strong inside, it invades all of your senses, making your hands clammy.

Jake went and sat in the driver's seat, laughing when he saw you struggle to put on the seatbelt. He bent over to your side to help you out, brushing against your hand in the process.

"Your hands are sweaty." he remarked, then raised an eyebrow, "Are you.." he peeked at you from under his long hair, batting his lashes at you, "Nervous?"

Well that did the trick. You were caught red-handed and you’re not quite sure on what to or not to do, stumbling over your words to try and explain yourself.

"Hey, hey, calm down."

You took a deep breath. He's close, too close as he's still hunched over to you. Faces mere centimeters from each other but you need to be brave, gazing into his mellow eyes and feeling yourself settle when his hands enveloped yours, "It's just me, okay?"

"Right." you giggled nervously, "But no, I wasn't nervous. I was only out of it. You know, 'cuz I'm tired." you tried to play it cool like you weren't losing your mind just a few seconds ago.

He, at long last, moved away from you, letting go of your hand and starting to drive away.

"Really now?" he asked, a sly smirk on his lips but it was wiped off and was replaced with a pout when you, shockingly, flipped him off. (he did not expect you to do that, earning you a whiny "Since when have you been so violent?" from him.)

In your defense, flipping someone off is not a sign of violence, but rather an off-handed way of showing affection.

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

The trip went smoothly, you weren't anxious like a shivering chihuahua anymore, allowing you to appreciate the beauty of your hometown.

There were a lot of recently developed things.

New buildings, new attractions, and you even saw a glimpse of the upcoming jubilee; the stalls and decorations are a total giveaway.

"Woah, I was gone for a bit and changes like these happened already." you remarked, surprised at the amount of transformation in your settlement.

"Like they say, change is inevitable." he replies and you couldn't agree more. "By the way, can we go somewhere as our last destination?"

The sun was starting to set, the time for you to go home was getting close because your parents made you promise to join them for supper. But it's okay, one more location with Jake won't hurt.

So you agreed, letting him drive while you close your lids, enjoying the salty breeze from the ocean and letting the current of air brush your hair and skin, relishing in the serenity that you barely experience in the city.

After a few minutes, the vehicle went to a halt, hearing Jake murmur a small 'We're here.' made you open your eyes, and you were greeted by the familiar view.

"Oh my god, Jake!" you grinned, running towards the small, dinky wooden house that stood in the middle of the wild grasses and flowers. A rush of happiness flowing in your veins at seeing your 'secret base.'

You gasped when you entered, Jake following closely behind, you couldn't believe what you were seeing.

"Yeah," he bashfully puts his hands inside the pockets of his ripped jeans, biting his lips whilst he inspects your expression, "I took care of our secret base all this time. Corny, I know, but I really wanted to keep this in good condition."

He rambles and you listen, walking around the expanse of the room and true to his words, the four corners of the house are basically spotless. Despite the rust forming around the edges of the metals and a portion of the wood being eaten by some kind of insect, everything is still the same.

"Are you kidding me Jake?" you spun on your heels and ran to him, pulling him into a bear hug and burying your face in his chest, "This is like, the best thing that ever happened to me ever since I came back here!" you exclaimed, staring up at him gleefully.

He lets out a relieved sigh, returning your amity with the same fervor, "I'm glad, I thought I was way overboard with this."

"Pft. No way!" cue you trying to do his Australian accent, breaking the hug and proceeding to jovially push him away, "But genuine question here, why did you go all the way and take the job of being the caretaker for this supposedly tree house." you jokingly quoted the word 'tree house' with your fingers, making Jake hoot in laughter at the hidden agenda of your sentence.

"We really did our best to make this a tree house, unfortunately, we were too dumb to figure out how to build a damn house. Good thing your father is a good carpenter." he chuckles, recalling the memory of how and why the miniature flat was built.

"No, but really, the thing was.. I, ah fuck-" he runs a hand through his silky strands of inky locks, his ears turning red and your heartstrings were pulled by his adorable mien.

What your younger brother told you suddenly echoed in your brain, "Jake's a fuckboy now."

Yeah, he might be, considering the amount of girls that kept on clinging to him while he toured you around the metropolis. You saw a glimpse of it, his flirty persona, but right now, you firmly believe that he's still the same Jake that you knew.

Jake Sim, the guy who befriended you when no one else was willing to because apparently, you were a freak during your girlhood. The same guy who always protected you, stopped you from making poor life decisions that you'd probably regret sooner or later.

The same guy who took you to prom during your senior year, the one who gaped like a fish when he saw you all dressed up, a large grin on his face while he complimented you throughout the night nonstop. The one who never left your side and danced with you during the said event, not glancing at any other women's direction and focusing on you and only you until he couldn't take it anymore and kissed you on your front door.

Jake Sim, your first friend, first kiss, and inescapably, first love.

"Tell me." you urged him, cupping his face and staring right through his worries, "You can always be honest with me."

Jake visibly gulped, his hands moving on its own and engulfing yours that are planted on his cheeks.

"I wanted to preserve the memories." he admits, his eyes softening at your astonishment, "This was the place where we started our family, with our daughter Layla."

You snickered, "Layla.. how is our daughter doing?" you asked, suddenly curious about the adorable dog's whereabouts.

"So now you remember her?" Jake rolled his eyes, but still answered you nonetheless, "She's doing fine actually, she missed you a lot."

"She did?"

"Yeah, she missed you." the volume of his voice dropped, almost purring, raspy and feathery, tickling your insides, "Even her father missed you, if we're going to be blunt here."

"And who is the father?" you inquired, not noticing that Jake guided your hands towards his shoulders, his own palms gliding down your hips and gradually tugging you close to his body.

"Me, I'm the father."

You were too engrossed at the melodrama-like scene that you're starring in, not having the ability to discern that your faces are inching towards each other every ticking second.

*ring ring*

Like a wake up call, thanks to your phone, the two of you jolted and immediately separated, breathing heavily and thinking 'What the hell just happened?'

You answered your phone, your mom is getting dramatic because it's late and she's hungry, telling you to go back home right at this instant.

"Let's go, I'll drive you back." Jake's voice was distant, seeing that he's already outside, waiting for you to exit the house.

The journey back to your residence was a complete 180 of the atmosphere from when you both left. It was taciturn and morose, so much that it made you want to walk back home instead.

When he parked right outside your gates and you were about to offer him goodnight and farewell, he promptly gripped your wrist, preventing you from escaping the auto, "I'm sorry, back there, I.. I didn't know what came over me."

"No, no, it's fine. It was an accident." you say, but then you heard him mutter something, but you couldn't quite hear it. So you asked him to repeat himself.

"I said," he took a deep breath, "I want our friendship to be just like before. If that's okay with you."

You smiled, flicking his forehead as a way of telling him that everything is okay, "I would love that, you doofus."

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

Jake watches you enter your home before going off on his own apartment but not before stopping in an vacant road and banging his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

That was so shitty and uncool of him.

Almost kissing his friend— his friend that has a boyfriend.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and repeating a mantra in his brain, 'Don't do that ever again.'

He barely managed to save the night, a poor attempt at that, thankfully, you're nice enough to let things pass and accept his proposition of rekindling what's supposed to stay in the past.

This is fine. It's foolish of him to think that he's something more to you. So he'll accept the fact that you'll always see him as your friend.

Even if he wants to love you, even if loving you is a complete necessity for him. He'll bury all of those, hidden in his box of filtered feelings and emotions, because once he lets go of his restraints, he'll lose you.

Dear lord no, the mere thought of losing you makes his stomach churn in a not so nice way, evoking the bile to rise in his throat.

Again, he convinces himself that he doesn't need anything else but to have you in his life.

"Jake, keep your shit together." he opens a compartment, looking intently at a bracelet made out of shells tucked safely in a clear glass box.

Wanting you was, is, and will always be more than enough. 

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

Undeniably, your parents nagged you for being late to the family dinner, but you paid no mind to them, opting to eat your food at the speed of light and locking yourself in the privacy of your room, throwing your body on the comforts of your bed.

Once inside, you felt like you could breathe again, all the substandard smoke inhaled from earlier finally out of your lungs. You were dizzy from everything that happened today, and you want nothing more but to combust at the mixed emotions that are brewing up.

You almost kissed Jake, for fucks sake. The thing was, you liked the way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way h-

You gasped when your phone rang, guilt running through your whole system when the screen lit up with the words: 'Hoonie 🐧'

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself for a moment before grabbing your device and answering the video call with a giddy smile and shaky hands.

"There she is, my baby, the love of my life, my wife, m-"

"Hoonie!" you whined, cutting the voice off which made the person on the other line chuckle, his loving eyes glimmer when he saw you blush.

"What? Am I not allowed to shower my baby with love?"

You giggled, lying properly down the bed and lifting your arms up so your phone would be directly facing you, letting you admire the man that you proudly call yours.

"Of course you can. How's your practice over there?" you asked, wanting to know his life’s events.

"It's fun actually, I was really nervous at first but guess what, the coaches here in Canada are so nice and they taught me new techniques so I can improve further! And, the pancakes here are so fucking delicious." he's basically rapping, you think, but you still find yourself getting drowned by his voice, the way he excitedly tells you everything about his training camp in another country is endearing. Although, you frowned when he suddenly chips his rants off, a sad sigh escaping his lips.

"Why, what's wrong?" worry graced your expression, making him coo at how adorable you are.

"Nothing. I just wish you were here with me right now."

You watched him sit up from his own bed, leaning onto the wooden headboard and intently studying you, "I wish I could come home to you after practice, then we could cuddle and kiss.. and maybe eat some pancakes too."

You laughed at his unseriousness, really, he could say the most romantic words out there yet he'd still sprinkle it with his weird uncle humor. Well, that's one of the many reasons why you love him.

"You're crazy about those pancakes aren't you?" you watched him nod his head, his eyes crinkling as he probably feels pride swelling within him for making you laugh.

"I'm crazier about you though." he winked, a boyish grin on his lips and you couldn't help but kick your feet like a kindergarten student with a crush.

"Gosh! Now you're just making me miss you more!" you grumbled, lying sideways and hiding your maroon colored face in your pillows.

His melodic chuckles resound in your ears, and you peek at him when he softly, sweetly tells you that he misses you too, tons and lots.

"No but really, aside from dying on how much I want to hold you," you chuckle at his dramatic sentence, "one of the agendas here is because a little birdie told me that you don't want to go to your town fiesta."

You groaned, "I'm gonna tell mom that you called her a little birdie."

"Hey missy, no tattling allowed here." he clicked his tongue before continuing, "But no, it was Riki who told me. And, I think you should go because I heard that it's a special celebration in your town that only happens once a year. Besides, you can't let Riki run around there alone, what if he accidentally stabs himself with a spoon?"

This time, you groaned and whined, explaining to him the many reasons why you don't wanna go. It's hot, there's too many people, and Riki is old enough to handle himself. Really, like a child throwing a fit which made your boyfriend massage his temples, and as you were on your number five reason why you didn't wanna go, you halt when his voice dropped an octave on the other line.

"What if I give my princess a little something tonight if she decides to go?" he says, and something about his tone sends shivers down your spine, especially the way he called you 'princess.'

A pet name that he uses only for certain circumstances.

"What?" you asked dumbfounded, knowing the purpose behind his words but your brain is not fully processing the situation.

"You see, I can feel it when my princess is kind of frustrated.." something in his eyes darkened as he looked at you through the screen, one that shoots arrows down to your core, "because I am too, honestly haven't touched myself for days because it's never sufficient when it's not you."

You almost choked when he let out a deep moan, and you could see the muscles in his biceps moving and bulging. The sound of his sheets rustling is very much an obvious sign that he's starting to play with himself.

"Hoon- I.." you trailed off, rubbing your legs together to generate some relief, every second you hear a guttural groan from him the wetter you become.

Oh fuck, you two were just being lovey-dovey a while ago and now it's getting real nasty... and you're loving every single second of it.

"Yes princess?" he says huskily, looking at you with hooded eyes, waiting for you to speak up.

"Help me, please." you pathetically whimpered, snaking a hand down and inside your shorts and underwear, instantly feeling the sticky juices of your pussy.

"Sadly princess, I can only do that when you say yes to the proposal, yeah?" he replied, tone webbed with feigned sympathy as he smickered at your helplessness.

Your eyes slammed shut, legs twitching and your core in desperate need of release, "Fine!" you concede, taking a deep breath when you heard your boyfriend's triumphant chuckle over the line, "Can you please just-"

"Now, now," the man uttered, biting his lower lip to keep himself from tittering at your desperate demeanor, "listen to me well and do everything as I say, okay?"

You nodded your head as an affirmation, impatiently gathering your wetness that was pooling in your heat, lathering them all over your labia.

"That's my good princess, now can you touch your clit for me?" he instructs, his heavy breathing echoing in your brain as you do what he said. A light moan escaping your lips when your finger nudges your bundle of nerves.

"Circle them around, honey, write my name on that pussy." your lover on the other line shudders at the thought of spelling his name on your glistening part, he'll definitely do it himself the next time he sees you.

"Ah! H-hoonie, need more." you cried out, keeping your voice at minimum so the other occupants of the house won't hear what's going on inside your room. "Please, I need more." you continued whining, writing every syllable of his name on your clit, an unspoken proof of him owning you.

At this point, you're having a hard time maintaining the grip on your phone, forcing yourself to look into the camera, resigned pupils begging for your boyfriend to do something. And when he did say to plunge two fingers in, you immediately obeyed, curling it into your g-spot, imagining it was his deft digits that are pleasuring you, it had you writhing around your sheets, but it's not sufficient. Not adequate to send you to the edge. 

You fucking need him. You need Park Sunghoon himself.

"I-I can't Sunghoon, this is not enough I-"

"No baby, you can and you will." he rasped, and you can barely hear him stroking himself rather harshly, surely he's also imagining your soft, small hands on his cock as he works himself into his orgasm. "Let go princess, cum all over your fingers and I'll make sure that a grand prize awaits you."

You gasped, reaching euphoria with his encouragement, along with his insanely attractive groans while releasing his load into his hand. You moaned his name wantonly until you're panting and the only thing that you could think of is him, and the said award that you'll get when you see him after the summer break. 

Your phone slipped from your grasp, exhaustion seeping in and you don't wanna move anymore. You'll clean yourself up tomorrow, opting to listen to the praises that your boyfriend is giving you, finally sleeping with a satisfied smile when you hear the words that will forever make the zoo in your stomach crazy.

"I love you, my Y/N."

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

Giving in to your boyfriend made you lament, and as much as you want to hate him for compelling you agree to this stupid festival, you couldn't bring yourself to do it because apparently, your bouncy brat of a brother who entered your bedroom in the wee hours of the morning (10 am) and his joyful celebration of you coming to the stupid event was enough to make you think that yeah, accepting that proffer may be worth it.

Still, you weren't prepared for it. You only packed the essential clothes necessary for the entire summer break. And it did not include any extravagant, shiny dresses or outfits that are suitable for parties.

Thus, that is how you found yourself walking down the cemented pavement to go to the nearest clothing store after having your not so peaceful brunch. With your brother and his friends going off about how amazing the night party at the beach for the festival would be, you couldn't help but listen to them yap.

You yelped when a car stopped beside you, and you were so ready to dash off or scream if some masked man tried to kidnap you. The familiar black tint of the vehicle made you stop and rethink the overreaction that you're about to pull, then the window of the driver's seat rolled down, revealing none other than Jake himself.

"A pretty lady walking under the sun without an umbrella at like," he paused to look at the imaginary watch on his wrist, "one pm, that's uncanny."

You scoffed, crossing your arms, "The only uncanny thing here is that," you pointed at his face, squinting playfully "wearing sunglasses inside a car, what kind of idiot does that?"

"Hey! This is for fashion!" he yelled, offended at your snide remark, completely forgetting the character he's in. "Anyways, get in. Where are you even going?"

He gets out of his car, opening the passenger seat for you and signaling for you to enter. He stands there patiently, waiting for you to move even though he was clearly upset at your joke, evident by the pout on his lips. You couldn't help but smile, flowers blooming in your chest with how sweet he is.

You amicably walked in his direction, pinching in his cheeks, "You're spectacular in those sunglasses. Now let's go to some clothing store because I have to prepare shit."

While getting yourself comfortable inside his car, you saw him fight back a smile at your compliment, his pronounced cheekbones failing to hide his grin at the last moment.

The drive resumed without a hitch with you explaining the reason for your impromptu trip, and being extra, he just had to go to the mall because, and you quote, "The mall has more options, don't be such a grinch about it." end of quote.

Now, you're having regrets part two of today's adventure because how on earth are you supposed to act when two elderly couples have mistaken Jake as your boyfriend? And he was so casual about it! He could at least act a little flustered because you were always caught off guard!

What does that make you?!

"You don't have to be so shy about it." he pokes fun at you, dragging you around the mall after telling you that he knows a good store that sells really pretty clothes.

"I am by no means shy. I was just surprised that's all, and h-"

"Here we are!" he exclaims, cutting your sentence short when he pushes you inside the shop.

The bell rang, indicating your arrival and you could hear a faint 'Welcome' from the back, probably the only employee for the day, considering the small space of the clothing store.

The ambience inside is nice, the interior was giving Parisian vibes, but you couldn't admire the place for long when Jake shoved a bunch of clothes in your face.

"Here, try some of this on and let me see." he says with an eager smile, you just have to bring out the full potential of your neocortex and thalamus and you'll be able to see his wagging tail.

"You mean I have to model you these?" you raised an eyebrow, entering a dressing room and burrowing through the clothes, picking only the ones that caught your eye, shaking your head when you heard Jake shout about him being the fashion king of your town. 

The first outfit was a simple plaid red skirt and black long sleeve top, to which Jake said that it looks like you're going to a painting class.. it was a no.

Second outfit was a drag, he says, black sleeveless overall that you paired with a white crop top. Certainly, you'll have to remove the entire fabric if you want to pee, which is a good point.

You are now slightly fuming, wanting this shit to end, not until you saw an appealing, off shoulder white dress with golden linings on it. The subtle floral pattern embedded adds to its beauty and you think, yeah, maybe this is the one.

You threw it on without much thought, exiting the fitting room and showing it to your friend who was checking the prices of some of the clothes, "What do you think?"

Jake turned around from where he was standing, and it seems that time has been possessed by a turtle. His eyes widened, raking in your appearance and etching  it into his brain, never to consign into oblivion.

Now, Jake is a devoted Christian. He goes to church to pray, thanking God for all of the blessings he has received in his life. He heard the pastor describe heaven and angels, and as a child, he thought that he'll only see that in the afterlife. Never would he expect that he'll experience nirvana and see a spiritual being whilst alive, all in the shape of you.

He was so mesmerized by you that he didn't even realize you were talking, repeating your question from before. Then his small sphere broke when an unfamiliar voice spoke.

"I think you look great in it, ma'am."

"Oh! Uh-I, thank you..?" you trailed off, looking at the boy's name tag, "Yeonjun?"

"Yeps! That's me!" the black haired man chirps, "Well then, are you getting that? Which I think you should because it really suits you."

You put a hand over your chest, thanking the employee before excusing yourself so that you can return in your previous clothes and pay for the dress.

Meanwhile, Jake was stupefied. He didn't get a word in and he was about to shower you with compliments! He scowled at the tall boy standing in the corner, and when he felt the menacing glare of the aussie, he raised his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry man, had to speak to her because you were acting like a statue earlier." Yeonjun explains, but the smirk on his face didn't sit well with Jake.

"Where do I pay?" you appeared out of nowhere, the dress hanging on your arms, effectively breaking the tension between the two men.

"Right this way, ma'am." Yeonjun gladly guides you to the cashier area, giving you a flattering grin while he punches the price of the outfit. Before he could say another word, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you flush towards a sturdy body and a black card being dropped in front of the worker.

"I'll pay for it, no buts." Jake's authoritative behavior took you by surprise, thinking real hard on what made him act like this.

You discreetly looked at him, and my god were you blown away by how.. hot he looks when mad?

Wait a minute.. is he?

You heave when you're suddenly hauled out of the store, too busy in your own daydream to actually notice that he's done paying, gruffly grabbing the paper bag from the counter and storming out like an emotional old lady in a telenovela.

"Hold up, Jake!" you forcefully remove your hand on his own, sizing up his weird attitude before asking him what's up, and why the fuck is he upset out of the blue.

He faced the other direction, tuning in on him as he murmured under his breath, and you think you heard some curses like 'motherfucker' and 'cunt' and you had to compose yourself, or else you'll have no choice but to slap him silly for acting so tiresome in the middle of a jam-packed mall.

You sighed, putting your hands on your hips, a stance that mothers use when they're drained of their child's tantrum, "My fucking god, Jake, if you don't tell me what's wrong I'll leave you right here at this instant."

"That cashier sucks!" he bellowed, turning on his feet to face you with a frown, "He thinks he's a hotshot just because he's tall and he's muscular but argh!" he threw his hands up in the air, now sporting a petulant expression whilst crossing his arms over his chest.

"I get it." you giggled, raising an eyebrow at him that had him further frustrated, "You're jealous because he's handsome?"

"Yada yada," he rolls his eyes at your antics, not accepting such despicable reasons, "I'm a walking disney prince, he's no match for me."

"Alright, calm down Jakey." you laugh heartily, finding his baby girl stance absolutely precious, "Get that frown out of your face, you'll get wrinkles!" you went closer to him, brushing your hands all over his face to emphasize your point, not stopping until you saw a glimpse of a smile on his lips. And when you're content, you link arms with him, looking for the nearest ice cream shop, your treat, to cheer him up.

After ordering and settling down in Baskin Robbins, (the only ice cream shop in the mall), you excused yourself for a while. Going to a mini stall that you passed by a while ago to buy a certain necklace.

A silver necklace with the initials 'J' on it. You already made up your mind on purchasing it, a small gift for your friend. Staring at the jewelry now, you know that the adornment will shine on Jake the best.

You smile fondly, silver suits him, you think. Elegant and sophisticated, and the miniscule topaz stone in the letter that represents his name is the selling point for you, truly a necklace made for him.

After thanking the owner of the stall, you returned to the ice cream shop with a pep in your step, but your jolly attitude died down when you saw Jake with a girl at your table. And it appears that he’s enjoying the conversation with the pretty woman. 

'Well, fuck that, I ain't going back there when he's having so much fun without me.'

Your seething aura seemed to reach Jake, shivers running down his spine and his eyes were immediately drawn to the side, orbs widening in alarm when he saw you glowering.

Jake thought that the scariest moment of his life was when he was walking Layla early in the morning, and his dog choked on a piece of bone that was lying around in the neighbourhood, but as of now, he begs to differ.

His fear was audible in all ways, the girl in front of him noticed, making her follow what he was so riveting on and shit, that made you rage even more because it's fucking Kim Chaewon.

The girl who made your childhood a living hell. Your personal bully, the same girl who destroyed the sandcastle you built on the beach at the tender age of 6, the one who took everything away from you, the main cause of your departure in your hometown.

You felt so betrayed, the one person you thought she couldn't snatch from you, right in front of your eyes, was stolen.

You tried not to be affected by the scene, but you couldn't help the tears that pricked into the corner of your eyes when Chaewon smirked at you, and you'll be damned if you let yourself cry in her presence.

You turned on your heels, walking away and ready to commute back home but not before shooting Jake a disappointed look, ignoring his panicked expression.

Jake felt dread, guilt dropping down on his stomach when he saw hurt in your eyes, what's worse is that he's the cause of it.

He stood up right away, ready to follow you and explain the situation. That it wasn't what it looked like. He was about to take off, then he felt a hand grapple his wrist, a coy countenance can be seen on the culprit.

"You're seriously going after her?" Chaewon inquired, a mocking laugh escaped her lips, "What are you even gonna say?"

Jake retrieved his hand in a ruthless manner, sneering at the girl, "That nothing is happening here, she got it all wrong."

"Nothing?" she leered, batting her eyelashes like some bratz doll, "So fucking with me while she's gone and avoiding me when she’s here were nothing?"

"Listen here Chaewon," Jake aggressively leaned in, whispering through gritted teeth with a venom laced tone, "you do not say a word to Y/N, or else." then he left, running in the same direction that you took, making the blonde girl scoff.

Chaewon grimaced at the two cups of unfinished ice cream, setting her elbows on top of the wooden table and stagily resting her chin on her laced fingers, her attention stockpiling at a certain paper bag that's sitting on the left side of the comfy booth.

Scheme and trouble are her capital when it comes to instigations, "Game on, Sim Jaeyun."

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

"Y/N! Wait up, please, let me explain!"

You were well aware of Jake's pleads which made you walk faster, unfortunately, races like this meant that the one who has the longer limbs wins, and that wasn't you.

Jake caught up to you in no time, forcefully pulling you into his arms and enveloping you into a tight embrace, not letting you go even if you fight and hit him, accepting all of the profanities that you throw at him, he deserves that much.

It feels like you're in some k-drama. Getting back hugged by your childhood friend in a place where people are nowhere to be found, the skies turning into shades of gray and black, and frankly, you're getting tired of struggling knowing that you already lost the fight since he's so much stronger than you.

When he felt you go limp in his hold, he slowly turned you around so that he could examine you properly, a miscalculation on his part because seeing you in such a defeated state made him want to bury himself six feet under the ground until he's sure that he's paid the damages he had caused you.

"Y/N, please just one chance," he cupped your face, peering at you with such beseech, "please hear me out."

When you didn't speak, he took that as a chance to elaborate his case.

"I know it's wrong of me to interact with her, but she suddenly sat down in front of me. She caught me off guard and I was about to tell her off."

You let out a scornful laugh, pushing him away from you, "So you're saying that she's about to leave?"

He nodded, hope skirting his features but you wiped it all off with your next sentence, "Then why do you need to be so friendly with her, huh?!"

"I don’t want to make a scene there, Y/N. I have t-"

You raised a hand to stop him from saying more, having heard enough of his bullshit for the day, "Cut the crap, Jake, just- give me some time to think about.. t-this." your voice cracked in the middle and the sound reverberated through Jake's heart.

Watching you turn your back away was the hardest shit that Jake has to endure, especially since you're only a hair's breadth from his grasp.

Jake runs his hands over his face, attempting to rub the moisture away.

He has to fix this- No, he will fucking fix this even if it means that he has to go from heaven to hell.

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

You went home with a heavy feeling in your chest, ignoring the questions from your family and skipping dinner, (which is a big deal because your mother cooked your favorite food) since you don't have the appetite to join them for a delicious meal. You're tired, and all you wanted to do was cry yourself to sleep in the comforts of your mattress.

You dropped your body in the cotton sheets after washing up, dressing yourself in a simple tee and shorts.

It was eerily quiet, then the horrid memories that you clobbered in the back of your head started to swim back into the surface, your hands automatically went to your hair, gripping it hard as you choked back a sob.

A stuck gum in your precious, long hair that had caused you to cut it short, which made your classmates call you a tomboy.

Your artwork that was destroyed because this jealous girl just had to spray some black paint on it, causing you to lose a painting competition.

That one time when you had a crush on this guy named Soobin, but then he rejected you when you confessed because a certain someone made rumors about you wanting to have sex with him wherein reality, you only wanted to have a date with him.

Being called to the principal's office because you were accused of cheating during finals, which you never did but for some reason, 'evidence' of your wrongdoings appeared, and you lost the chance to become the class valedictorian.

The root of all these shitty things that you experienced: Kim Chaewon.

All the pent up humiliation and anger were released. The thought of Jake, the person who was supposed to be your shield from the disarray being involved with the person that you disliked, no, hate the most is killing you inside and out.

You sniffed, shutting your eyes and letting the tears flow freely as you clutched your pillow close to your chest. How you wished for your boyfriend to save you from this dark hole that swallowed you once more.

"Sunghoon, I need you here please."

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

You were rudely awakened by the repeated taps on the glass, a suspicious silhouette moving around the see-through curtain. You observed the shadow for a while until you decided to take action. 

You sit up, quietly grabbing a lamp on the bedside table and cautiously tiptoeing towards the window, you slightly jumped when the intruder knocked again.

You took a deep breath, raising the lamp on your left hand and slowly pulling the curtains to the side. You yelped when you were met with Jake's face pressed onto the glass of the window, clad in an all black outfit and you had to physically stop yourself from laughing with how hysterical he looks.

"Jake?! What the fuck?!" you whisper-yelled, putting the lamp down on your dresser and quickly unlocking the window, ushering him to get in before someone sees him and calls the police.

"What are you doing here?! And in the middle of the night? Do you have any idea that people might see and talk about this?!"

"I have ice cream. You didn't get to eat yours today." he shoves a plastic bag in your face, not minding your words as he huffs and puffs, probably out of breath since he had to climb the tree behind your house and go over the roof so he could slink into your bedroom. 

Yes, because life is not that easy and clichéd that a tree would be conveniently placed right in front of your window on the second floor of your home. Jake has to work for it.

"I don't want it." you uttered, trudging towards your door and opening it, beckoning your head downstairs, "Please leave, I'll be nice enough to escort you out."

You weren't looking at him, you don't have it in you to take him in because you're weak. You're not strong enough to stay mad at him, you know that one gaze into his starry eyes and you're gone, and you couldn't afford to do that.

Still, you should've checked at least once because hearing the plastic being dropped on some furniture and his incoming footsteps made you assume that he's done, that he's leaving, which was not the case.

A surprised gasp left you when Jake's hand grasped yours that was holding the knob, closing the door with a slight thud and he easily towers over you. An uncharacteristic intensity in his usually warm sepia orbs made your knees buckle, your heart rate speeding up when you realized that his masculine body had you trapped. Most importantly, his musky perfume makes you dizzy, clouding your ability to make sound judgment.

"I came here to see you, so no, I'll politely decline the offer of me leaving so soon." he murmurs, his hot breath cascading down your cheeks, and you got even more flustered when his free hand gripped your chin, leniently guiding your vision towards him.

"Please, Y/N, baby. Will you listen to what happened earlier?" he rasps, earnestly peeking into your own eyes as he searches for an answer that he desperately needed.

You'll condemn his perfume, his minty breath, his insanely attractive voice, and the sudden romantic ambience of the room. You'll inculpate anything at this point except your fragile self, because is it supposed to be your fault if Jake has the ability to render you defenseless against his overwhelming power over you?

A shaky sigh escapes you, nodding your head absentmindedly. The pet name surely had an effect on you, to which you could only describe as a grand circus playing around your whole nervous system.

"Jake.."

"There is nothing going on between me and that bitch, okay? I only care about you," he pulls your interconnected hands from the knob, bringing it to his lips and gently pecks your knuckles, "I'll drop anything just to be by your side, you know that right?"

"Please baby, I'm so sorry. I will never get in touch with her ever again. I'm so fucking sorry, I don't- I hate it when you cry, I hate it when you're sad. Please let me make it up to you. Please let me show you how much you mean to me."

You're not an impulsive person, as you'd like to believe, you tend to think first before doing something that you might regret in the future, but as of now, none of that matters.

For once in your life, you took the initiative, connecting your lips with Jake's, pouring all of your feelings in one emotional kiss. He wasted no time in returning it, turning his face sideways to deepen the liplock.

So this is what it felt like to kiss your plush, glossy lips. This is what it felt like to hold you in a way that is more than just some fucking friends.

This is what it feels like to have you. Intoxicating, addicting, and astronomically out of his wildest dreams.

Jake was brought back to reality when he felt you suck on his lower lip, opening his eyes in a haste and pulling away from you.

"I don't think we should d-" he starts, but you hush him by placing your index finger above his lips.

This is.. wrong. You are in a relationship, right? You two shouldn't be doing this.

"Jake," you whisper his name with such mirth, "show me how much I mean to you.. please."

That was the last thing Jake needed, throwing out whatever rationality remained in his brain in exchange for the yearning that he desired for so many years.

He groaned when you willingly opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his tongue in, licking every corner of your cavern. You let his wet appendage graze your teeth before moving your own to clash with his. Both are battling for dominance in this erratic exchange of saliva which he inarguably won, and you couldn't keep your moans at bay when he sucked on your tongue.

Pressing his lips into yours once more, a heated make-out ensues with him leading the way, wrapping his arms around your waist and compressing you between his body and the door, wanting to lessen the distance. He wanted more, he needed more, and he sure as hell will make the most out of this.

He'll act as a clueless villain if it means that he'll be able to steal the most precious gemstone that's already owned by someone.

But who fucking cares?

How could one say that it's wrong when everything feels so right? No one is qualified to dictate shit when the pieces of the decimated past are starting to recoup themselves, turning into a masterpiece called a forbidden tryst.

"Keep it down baby, don't want your parents to barge in here don't we?" he muttered against your lips, head moving to your clavicle and you instinctively craned your neck to the side, giving him the permission to paint you with the most colorful hues of blue and purple.

Jake breathes through his nose, inhaling your rousing vanilla and strawberry fragrance. This is what he's ever dreamed of. You, in his arms, marking you as his and only his.

One rainy day, he woke up only to realize that he wanted to be the man to make you happy. He wanted to cook meals with you, travel around the world, take candid photos of you and set it as his wallpaper. He wanted to be the person that you'll meet at the end of the church aisle.

The recollection of when it started was totally blurry.

Was it when you cried over that dimpled man back during 8th grade? Or was it when he saw you in your ball gown for prom? He has no idea, but he does know that he's prepared to give and let go of everything just for you.

Jake clutches on your waist even tighter, nuzzling his nose in the nook of your neck and leaving lightweight kisses up to your mastoid. He smiled when he heard you giggle, biting your ear lobe teasingly, "Still ticklish I see."

You poked his side in retaliation, making him jump and shriek a bit, "So are you."

"Why you little-!" Jake carried you like a sack of potatoes, dropping you on the cushions haphazardly yet you felt his palm on the back of your head, acting as an insulation so the impact won't hurt you.

"You'll be sorry for that." he says with a smirk, wedging himself in between your legs, and before you could reply, he kissed you deeply, proceeding to attack your neck with pecks and bites, sucking in the spot that had you gripping his hair.

His hand started to explore your body, tracing your shape and going inside your shirt, stopping right under your boobs. Jake lifted himself off, his eyes speaking for himself, silently asking for consent if it's alright to remove your clothes.

You nodded and started peeling off the shirt, the fabric getting comically stuck on your forehead (that's what you get for wearing clothes from your junior high days). You both laughed at the witless situation, and despite all that, you felt him help you out of the predicament but not without leaving a kiss on the exposed lower half of your face.

When the shirt is finally out of the way, you hastily remove your shorts as well, leaving you in nothing but a pair of panties because yes, you did not put on a bra, finding it ridiculous to wear one inside your own house.

You suddenly felt conscious when you noticed that Jake was unmoving and you found yourself covering your upper body, a movement that made the boy snap out of his daze.

"No, baby don't cover up," he grins sweetly at you, gulping down his nerves, "sorry, you're gorgeous, I can't help but admire."

You bit your lower lip, glancing at him and tugging at his own clothes, "Then be fair, give me something to admire too." you shyly said, avoiding eye contact when you saw him grin.

Jake instantly shrugged every piece of his attire, baring his all to you, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets because what the hell?

Of course you knew he was well built, his fitted outfits leave nothing to the imagination at times, but fuck you to the moon and back, you did not expect him to be this muscular. He has abs! For goodness sake, you weren't prepared, and it shows since Jake has to boop you in the nose to get you out of your daydream.

"I know the view is amazing," he gently laid you down, positioning himself on top of you, "but tonight is all about you, darling."

He pulled you in for another solid minute of make-out session, this time though, he touches you with more vehemence. Snaking his hand on your chest, gripping your left boob and lowering his head down to give the other the rightful attention it deserves.

You moaned his name when he suckled on your nipple, tongue circling around the areola and occasionally biting to add more to the sensation. He used his fingers to twitch and pull on the other nipple, his other hand trailing over your stomach, down to the navel until it reached your heat. He experimentally dipped a finger, gathering your juices and groaning at how wet you are for him.

"Baby, you're dripping and I've only done the bare minimum." he mutters, releasing your nipple with a pop and staring down at you with desire written all over his features, "You really want me that bad?"

"Yes Jake," you answered without any hint of doubt, "I want you, please, do something." you begged, and who was he to say no to his beautiful baby.

"Your wish is my command, princess." he grinned, going into full action as he slid down, coming face to face with your core.

Princess.

There was only one person who called you that. It should hit you by now that this is taboo... but it's just one night.

After this, you'll move on and act like nothing happened. Isn't it?

You weren't able to delve deeper into your thoughts when you felt a finger inside your pussy, a warm mouth lapping at your wetness and sucking on your clit harshly. Your back arches when another digit goes inside you, going at a moderate yet wonderful pace every time it curls and hits a spot that has you curling your toes.

"Right there!" you moaned, getting closer to your orgasm, Jake sensing this made adjustments to his ministrations, basically going into feral mode. His deft fingers pumped in and out of you vigorously, his sucking, add to that the small nips in your bundle of nerves are getting too much for you to handle.

"Cum for me." he uttered, and the mini encouragement and vibration from his voice had you undone within a few seconds. Gushing into his face which he happily guzzled on, not stopping until you told him to stop, sensitive from the overstimulation.

He went up to your face and you could see the shiny slick on his lips, "That felt good?"

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue, "Very much, but what about you?"

"Baby, didn't I tell you that tonight's all about you?" he shakes his head, using his own limbs to spread your thighs open, allowing him to slot himself in the middle, goosebumps rising on your skin when you feel his tip prod at your entrance.

"Then what are you waiting for?" you taunt, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing him closer to your soaking cunt. "Take me, Jake."

You really have a way with words or maybe you have this effect on him like magic, whenever you talk, all he could think about is making you his.

Inch by inch, he inserted his big, fat cock inside you and you know, because you feel it. The way he stretches you out just the right way, the vein on the side of his dick pulses every time you clenched on him, and when he finally bottomed in, you both let out a sigh that you didn't know you were holding.

Jake grits his teeth, putting the tip in and he thinks he's crazy because it's just the head but your pussy is sucking him all in and it almost made him cum.

He calmed himself down, if he's intending to pleasure you as much as he could, he's sure as hell to make himself last longer than usual.

He lets you adjust to his length, taking in a slow pace when you whisper for him to move. Gently rocking his hips into yours, making sure that he wasn't hurting you in any sort.

Then you begged for him to move faster, harder, truly, you're making this more difficult than it's supposed to be. He could hardly contain himself, but the more you egged him on, the more he let loose.

"Ah!" you cried out when Jake did a rather ruthless thrust, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously and it was getting him drunk off of you. He got a taste of you, and it'll be difficult to stop. He rammed into you mercilessly, the creaking of the bed was the least of your concerns now as you're more focused on the delightful feeling he's giving you, unconsciously scratching his back.

Jake hisses at the pain, but it motivated him to no end, knowing that you love what he's doing to you right now. Knowing that the reason you're acting like this is because he's doing you, as of the moment.

Your warm, wet walls hugged his cock so nicely that it made him believe that your pussy is made for him. Truly, every time he pushes in, you get tighter and it feels like paradise.

Nothing matters but the hushed moans of his name on your lips, he doesn't care about anything other than how good you feel.

You weren't in a good condition either, you're losing grasp of what's real, drooling mindlessly at the delight you're receiving. The man on top of you gives it his all, fucking you with all his strength as his length hits all the perfect spots inside you, making your eyes roll and see stars at the back of your brain.

Jake really tried to hold on, but your sudden release made your walls squeeze his cock, a low groan coming out of him as he cursed and complimented you on how well you're doing for him.

"Baby, I'm close." he warned you, sweat forming on his forehead and dripping down to your cheeks, and he finds it so hot when you dart your tongue out to lick the salty substance away.

"Inside, Jake. Please come inside me."

"Are you sure?" he slowed down a bit, peering into your eyes for confirmation.

Then you cupped his face, smiling at him lovingly, "Yes, I trust you."

That was all it took for him to release his seed inside you, thrusting shallowly to ride out his high until he collapsed on top of you, rolling over and slipping out of your walls when you halfheartedly complained about how heavy he is.

He finally did it.

Jake felt like a champion, one chance was enough for him and he's thanking all of the deities out there internally for giving him the opportunity to show you the love he's been meaning to shower you with.

He felt his body stiffen when you laid your head on his chest, telling him to stay, but what terrified him the most was when he listened to your request and naturally wrapped his arms around you.

Jake focused on you, combing your hair using his fingers as he watches you drift into dreamland.

You look ethereal like this, glowing under the dim light of the street lamps outside and how he wishes for you to continue being with him like this until you're grey and old.

He'll slip out of bed later, (couldn't risk getting caught by your family in the morning), and write you a note to make sure that you won't feel like shit when you wake up. For now, he'll relish in the blanket of your warmth and even breathing.

The boy sighs, his hand moving to your back, fingers lightly tracing his name over your smooth skin, 'J A K E '

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

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but then Jake finds himself in your window again the next night, and you let him in every single time. The moment he steps inside your room, no more pretending, straight to kisses and you getting railed into your mattress.

It was like a routine you both fell into, but as much as the guilt gnaws on your conscience, it was too good to let go. A drug you couldn't get enough of, you both have fallen into this wild goose chase but it's very much late to back out.

That's what happens behind closed doors when the moon shines, the strenuous task begins during the day.

Seriously, how are you guys supposed to act in front of your family and friends when there is 'something' going on.

It was exhilarating though. Sneaking knowing glances across the room, sometimes with a matching wink, the subtle thigh touching, following each other into a room without any people just to steal smooches.

It was all fun and games until someone had to make the situation even more arduous, courtesy of your brother whining about going to the beach without your parents aka friendly bonding.

It should be easy, acting like normal best friends and playing around in the water but noo, of course even a simple hang-out would turn into a battle of 'the first one to gape like a fish loses.'

By all accounts, it never crossed Jake's mind that you'd be daring enough to wear a swimsuit that shows a lot of skin, because you're usually a conservative little girl. So he was astonished when you exited the changing room, sporting the sexiest red two-piece, shaking his head in disbelief when you discreetly threw a smirk on his way.

He knew you were playing a game, displaying your ass for him, swaying your hips while walking towards the chosen spot for today's hang-out.

Jungwon whistled, Sunoo made a surprised pikachu face, and Riki paid little to no attention to you when you sat down on the blanket with them, under a big umbrella that you rented out shielding you from the scorching sun.

"Is this what the city air does? I dig it." Jungwon says, giggling when Riki hollered in disgust, side-eyeing you before making a comment about how he'll smack Jungwon in the head if he remotely said anything like that again.

Jungwon raised his hands up in defense, looking over Sunoo's direction for assistance, "I was complimenting her! Help me out here, man."

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, doing his infamous googly eyes at his friend, "You did sound like a pervert there but yes, I'll agree that Y/N looks great." he turned to you and gave you a thumbs up, to which you returned with finger guns.

Jake quietly nursed his bottle of cold beer, not participating in the conversation until the three stooges pointed it out.

"Yoi, one beer is all it takes for you to go mute?" Jungwon mused, Riki followed up with the teasing, saying that maybe Jake hasn't been getting laid, thus, the cranky disposition.

"Wha-! No, lemme tell you that I've been getting it so well nowadays." he defended himself, but not without giving you an inconspicuous glance.

"I don't wanna hear your sexcapades," Sunoo stood up, pointing at the ocean excitedly, "I think it's time to play, no?"

The other boys agreed except for you, telling them that you want to take a look of the scenery first before joining them in the water.

"You sure?" Jake asked, and you gave him the positive signal and he shrugged, "Suit yourself."

It was his turn to make you flustered.

Now, you have seen the guy naked, but it was during lights out, not in broad daylight, so the gulping that you did was unplanned. Staring at him while he removed his plain tee, bearing his toned muscles and abs for you to ogle at.

You glared at him when he threw a smug look in your direction, thanking the gods that the other younger boys were oblivious as fuck, mainly, their priority was the race to the water because the loser will buy them milkshakes later.

"What are you playing at Jake?" you questioned, standing up from your seat and doing your very best to look at him square in the eye, forcing yourself not to look down.

"Baby," he says, walking closer to you, licking his lips when he focuses on your cleavage, "you started this didn't you? Make sure to finish it then."

You weren't able to utter another word when he walked away and joined the others in the sea like nothing even happened, like he didn't make your heart race with exhilaration.

You huffed, turning on your heels to ambulate around the area, unaware of Jake's predatory gaze on you.

You watched the soles of your feet sink into the sand, leaving footprints behind, your brain contemplating the whole scenario that is sure to bring a storm into the fragile house made of cards. Starting from when you and Jake began this.. affair. Then your thoughts drifted to Sunghoon, you mowed at the unearthly concept, your conscience punching you in the face.

Your boyfriend is probably out there, tiring himself out during practice, doing his best to improve his skating skills so he could show off and make you proud when he wins all the gold medals for his competitions. While you're here, doing the unimaginable with a man that is supposed to be just a friend.

You paused, hugging yourself as some kind of comfort. Maybe you missed Sunghoon so much that you unconsciously went and found some kind of intimacy, any kind of affection that will satisfy you while you're away from your lover.

Will you really put the blame on that? Yes, it's pathetic but you have already crossed an unforbidden threshold, a thorny one that bleeds you dry but the more you drown in it, the more you get hooked.

You shook your head, trying to get a clear vision of how this is supposed to end, too lost in your own thoughts that you didn't notice a pair that was trudging towards you, that is until their voices startled you out of your reverie.

"Uh yes? How may I help you?" you inquired cautiously, looking around just in case, and you felt stupid for not covering up because you can definitely feel their stares on your exposed skin.

"Relax pretty, we won't hurt you." the guy with a mullet spoke, smirking at you, the taller boy beside him nodded before adding a statement in.

"We noticed that you're alone, it's kind of dangerous here you know?"

"I'm a local, I know my way around here." you replied in a monotonous tone, letting them know that you're not interested in whatever they want to do with you.

"If you're a local," the mullet boy came closer to you, invading your personal space which made you frown and back up, "then how come that your face is not familiar?"

You took a deep breath, getting ready to shut them down when a towel was draped around you, a protective arm slinging on your shoulder and pulling you into a cast-iron body.

"Because she's keen on keeping her privacy, to avoid harrowing guys like you."

You'd recognize that voice anywhere, but you were surprised to hear such menacing articulation from him, very different from the usual sugary one that he always uses.

"Well hello to you too, Jake." the taller guy with brown hair greeted the aussie, a friendly smile on his face yet his passive-aggressive tone threw his calm demeanor away.

"Hello, EJ and Nicholas, didn't expect to see you here." Jake responds, matching the taunting attitude of the duo.

You clung to Jake, not minding the droplets of water if it means that you'll feel protected.

"Oh, is this your new bitch?" the one called Nicholas laughed, giving an amused applause and a low whistle, "You really have great taste, Sim."

You heard a low growl erupting from Jake's chest, his muscles tensing and you saw how he clenched his fist, getting ready to throw a punch if the need arises, "Don't you fucking disrespect my girl."

"Ah!" the ponyo look-alike named EJ mused, like a lightbulb went off in his brain, "Your girl? She's your girlfriend?"

"No way!" Nicholas sniggers, a surprise etched on his face, not believing what he was hearing, "A fuck boy like you settling down with a girl like her? That's some fucking news man."

One moment Jake was beside you, then he was gone, launching a full blown strike into Nicholas's face, and putting your scouts honor on the line, you’re sure heard something crack.

"Jake!" you cried out, fear creeping into you as you tried to simmer Jake down.

"A girl like her? A girl like her?! Fucking asshole, take that back!" Jake yells, about to attack the other man again but a divine intervention transpired, namely your brother and friends who came to the rescue.

They noticed that you two were gone for a while now, and thank god they decided to hunt for you both or something very bad might have happened.

"Oh my! Hey! Hyung, calm down!" Jungwon and Sunoo held Jake back while Riki got in between, helping Nicholas up, asking for forgiveness to deescalate the fight.

"Don't apologize to that asshole, he fucking disrespected your sister!" Jake shouts, breathing heavily through his nose, struggling to contain his anger.

Nicholas scoffs and wipes the blood from his busted lower lip, "I was stating a fact, that she is your bitch."

Silence ensues when Riki harshly shoves Nicholas, his friend EJ catching him before his ass makes contact with the sand. You've never seen your younger brother display an act of dominance before, rage brewing in his glare as he spoke in a threatening tone, "EJ, you're the sensible one here, get this fucker out of my face before I do something that we'll regret."

"This runt-" Nicholas was about to retort but he was dragged away by EJ, effectively stopping the brawl.

Jungwon and Sunoo sighed in relief, finally releasing Jake from their grip. Riki then went to you, softly patting you on the head as if he's saying that he's got you, that no one is allowed to mess with you except for him. Then he turned to Jake, "Thank you for defending her, hyung."

You all decided to go home after that incident, the mood totally ruined and you can hear the boys plot revenge as payback while you're changing, and you had to stop them right there.

As a compensation though, you and Riki invited them to stay for dinner, to which they happily agreed, not wanting to miss the opportunity of having free food.

When all of you stepped foot inside the reassuring space of your home, the sullen spirit from before was lifted up by some video games and snacks that your parents provided, letting you guys have fun while they prepare dinner.

You watched as Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki yell at the top of their lungs, accusing one another of cheating until one of them actually does it and everyone loses their minds. You laugh, then suddenly you were hyper aware of Jake's presence beside you on the sofa when his knee accidentally touched yours.

Your eyes discreetly slide over to his hunched form, the dim lights of the living room somehow highlights his sharp features even more, yet it made him look softer. You always had a habit of being obvious it seems since Jake turned to you with a questioning look on his face, silently asking you what's wrong.

You have to make up an excuse asap, and the lacerations on his knuckles provided the best one.

"I think we should treat that." you pointed at his hands, crummy reason but you'd stick to that rather than admit that you have been admiring him like a creep.

"Oh this? It's fine, it doesn't hurt that much." he looks at his knuckles, waving off your offer but you insist, telling him that it's the least that you can do after acting as your knight in shining armor in your damsel in distress. Thus, you find yourself alone with him in the bathroom, Jake sitting on the cover of the toilet while you rummage through the cabinet for the first aid kit.

"Found it, here." you ushered him to show his hand to you, placately tending to his wound, cooing at him like a mother hen whenever he hisses at the sting, making him chortle at the way you're acting. When it's all done, he thanked you, ready to leave but for some reason, you tugged him back to his position and placed your lips on his in a flash.

Jake was suddenly rigid, not really knowing how to react at first but he is nothing but a weak man when it comes to you, so he did what he does best, show you how much power you have over him, kissing you back as hard as he could. Then your next words made his head spin, like he's drunk off of you.

"I haven't thank you enough, Jake." you murmur against his lips, lowering your head to have your mouth reach the skin on his neck, sucking and biting it until you have left a visible mark. Your hands slithered over his clothed body, feeling his abs as you got on your knees for him, "Let me take care of you this time, hm?"

How can he even say no to you, he's going crazy right now. Your doe eyes begging to him, to let you pleasure him. Your silky voice calling him baby like he's the only boy you've ever called with that name. Your small hand on his crotch, palming him over his jeans. He couldn't say no to you.

"Go on then, I'm all yours." he rasps, relaxing his whole body and enjoying the show that you'll gladly perform for him.

You smiled and bit your lips, excitement coursing through your veins as you began to unbuckle his belt, lifting himself up to help you remove his pants and boxers so you could get to work.

His length sprung up a bit, having been freed from its constraints, still a bit soft but your mouth still waters from its sheer size. Your adventures with Jake always end up with him pleasuring you, never really giving you the chance to appreciate him like how you've always wanted.

You gently grabbed his manhood, your finger tracing the prominent vein on the side down to his balls, causing a sharp inhale from the man above you. You licked your lips, gazing at him from under your lashes, "What do you want me to do, Jake?"

God fucking shit.

Jake could cum just from your innocent teasing but he has to hold himself back, he must enjoy this, because he’s aware that this will be the best blow that he'll ever receive. He hasn’t experienced it, but he’s about to and if it’s you, he knows damn well that it will be out of this world. 

He takes hold of your hair, gathering your strands and creating a ponytail, letting you kiss around his crotch and groin, then he stops you with a rather harsh tug on your scalp.

"Take me baby, use that pretty mouth of yours, and only your mouth." he instructs, giving emphasis to not using your hands which you immediately obligue, massaging his balls with your tongue until he tells you to stop.

Jake went and grabbed his dick, the tip leaking with precum and had half the mind to smear it all over your glossy lips, "Spit on it, then use your hands."

He doesn't need to elaborate more as you collect whatever moisture you can get inside your mouth, spitting on his member and lathering it all over his cock, moving your palm up and down, the slick making your movements smoother.

He can't wait anymore, not when you're allowing him to do things to you. No more restraints as he grabbed your chin, your mouth forming an 'o' shape and gave you this look, quietly informing you that he's done playing. You nodded, finally taking him in your mouth and you couldn't help the pride that swells within you when he suppresses his groans.

You coughed up a bit when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, some tears forming due to gag reflex, but Jake was unforgiving, whispering about how good you take him and that you should do more if you really wanted to thank him for everything that he's done for you.

You began to bob your head up and down, relaxing your jaw and hollowing your cheeks so you could take more of him, ignoring the pool of spit that formed on the corner of your mouth, letting it drip down your neck. 

You started off slow, gradually increasing the pace. You used the tip of your tongue to zone in on the smaller and more sensitive areas of his member, pausing the bobbing of your head so you could pay attention to his angry, red head. Wrapping your lips around it and sucking, like a child with a lollipop, slowly.. slowly, enjoying his grunts and praises about how good you make him feel.

Jake felt his dick twitch when you used your hand, wrapping it around the base of his cock, adding pleasure to the parts that couldn't reach your mouth (because he's big af), and he felt himself losing control, a small apology leaving his mouth before he sets the rhythm himself. Holding your head steady as he stood up, his manhood not leaving your mouth and he started thrusting mercilessly. His dominant side always gets to you, and he knows because he's hearing those gagged moans as he used you like his personal fuck toy.

"I'm close baby." he warns, and he looks down, and fucking hell, the image has been burned into his brain. Messy, you're basically crying and drooling around his cock, your hands helplessly holding onto his thighs for support while you struggle to breathe through your nose. 

Truly, the best view he's ever seen.

He staggers, not bothering to pull out of you, releasing his seed inside your mouth, not giving you a choice but to swallow all of it.

Jake exhales, satisfaction painted on his face while he slides out of your wet cavern, finally giving you the opportunity to catch your breath.

He knelt down in front of you, his forefinger smudged the strayed mixture of his cum and your saliva on your chin, swirling it around before inserting his digit inside your mouth, a smirk forming in his lips when you obediently sucked on it.

"That's my girl, now let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

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

"Bro, hey! Are you listening?"

Felix, one of Jake's friends from Australia snapped his fingers in front of the said man, breaking him out of his daze as he turned his attention from his phone to his friend.

"Pardon?" he asked, shiny eyes blinking while smiling innocently.

Felix rolled his eyes, pointing an accusing finger at the younger, "You've been fixated on your phone the whole day. Say, you're waiting for your girlfriend to text you, no?"

"I'm not!" he fights back, "And how many times do I have to say this, she's not my girlfriend!" he grumbles, running a hand through his hair.

Jake has always been a popular guy in this town, and obviously, after the incident at the beach, rumors fly through gossip faster than light.

"Jake and Y/N are together!"

That's what they all say, and as much as he loves the sound of you two dating, he's worried that the.. girls that he's been with might go crazy and attack you. He doesn't want you to get hurt, but all that he can do is deny everything. Heck, even Jungwon, Riki, and Sunoo helped in putting the baseless fire out.

"Doesn't look like it to me." Chan then interrupted the discussion, emerging from the kitchen with bottles of coke in his hand, setting it on the table and letting the other boys refresh themselves from the heat of the summer season.

"That's what I've been saying." the freckled boy agrees, finally having someone side with him.

Jake was about to retort again after gulping his sugary cola, but he stopped when he received a notification from you, saying that you need a ride and you're currently at the parking area behind the mall. He jumped from his seat, bamboozling his way out of his friends' apartment, bidding his friends a hasty goodbye.

Jake went back for a second, his head peeking from the door, "Oh and Felix." 

Said man was startled, pointing at himself with a confused look on why his name was called all of a sudden.

"Yeah you, to answer your question earlier. No, I won't be going to the club or party or whatsoever. Hooroo!" and he was gone.

The two boys who were left in the living room looked at each other and shrugged, "Not his girlfriend, he said."

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

You were near having a panic attack, who would've thought that going to the mall to buy a new dress (because your last one was sadly lost and never found), would cause such chaos?

Tons of girls are either asking you about how you got together with Jake and how lucky you are or just plainly wanting to pull your hair out for stealing their prince charming... and you had enough of their bullshit.

You stood there in the parking lot, waiting for the very main cause of your dilemma to come and pick you up. Just then, a familiar stygian Kia entered the empty lot, stopping right in front of you then Jake himself appeared right out of the vehicle.

You wanted to scream at him for causing you so much trouble but a lump was caught in your throat when you saw his disheveled appearance, clearly rushing here to get to you but still managed to look exceptionally good.

How can one look like a painting da Vinci himself made even when his hair is all over the place and the collar of his denim top was not fixed at all?

Fear not, only he, Sim Jaeyun, can pull it off.

"Y/N! Are you okay?!" he dashed to you, holding you by your shoulders and examining you thoroughly if you were hurt. He swears, if he sees one tiny scratch on you, he'll haunt whoever caused the damage.

You almost cried at how sweet he is, but you opted to bury your face on the crook of his neck instead, surprising him but he returned the embrace nonetheless, entwining his fingers on the strands of your hair and setting his chin atop of your head. Apologizing for whatever happened to you, knowing that he was the root of all of these.

"No," you detached yourself, staring down at your white sneakers and how it complements Jake's brown leather shoes, "I guess I was shocked because I was literally being mobbed in there. Felt like a celebrity for a second." you tried to joke about the situation but Jake remained sympathetic.

"What are you even doing out here?"

"Well, I still need a dress for the festival.. which is tomorrow."

Jake facepalmed, laughing at his stupidity because how could he forget?

He held your hand in his, tugging you with him and ushering you inside his vehicle. When asked where he was taking you, all he replied to you was giddy "Secret!"

Soon, you arrived at his flat, and you were awed because it's been too long since you visited in here. Certainly, it still looks the same and the memories came rushing in like a wave.

Running around the house, chasing Jake with a spatula because he thought it was a great idea to scare you while you were in the bathroom, planting an oak tree in his small backyard, making him promise to take care of it even if he’s hoary and hunched.

You followed him to the steps, a delicate smile on your lips when you saw the rust on his door, surely a sign of the aged building. Upon entering, a familiar border collie ran up to you, sniffing you before wagging its tail in pure joy, making you squeal because she remembered you.

"Layla!" you hugged the little bundle of joy, rubbing her fur zealously, "You've grown so much! I missed you!"

Hearing your voice must have set off something from the dog as she threw herself over you, basically begging to be babied like how you did before. And you are willing! Except that she’s hogging you, her whole weight pushed on you which made it hard to breathe. 

Jake, who was standing at the side, watching the wholesome interaction with glittering expression sensed your distress, "Layla! Come here!" he called the dog, using the treats that were stored as a way to entice the furry creature, which definitely worked.

"Sorry about that, she gets excited really easily." Jake went to you and helped you up when Layla was busy with her snacks, "Told you she really missed you." he adds, making you chuckle.

"I can see that. Well, what do you need to do that requires you to kidnap me here?" you asked, gazing at him curiously which made him nervous.

"Right." he scratched the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish grin, "Would you mind if I go to my room for a bit?"

You puckered your lips in curiosity but didn't question him any further, telling him that it's fine and that you'll wait. When he got out of his room, he was holding a pink paper bag, shyly walking up to you and handing you the item.

"What is this?" you accepted the bag, fishing whatever it was residing in there, then your eyes shimmered in recognition, hastily pulling it out and an attire was presented to you.

An elegant, satin red dress. An outfit that looked exactly like the one that you were eyeing back when you were 15, the age where you wanted to act like a model or some actress, and the red dress in a catalogue made you feel like you could reach such dreams.

"Do you want to try it?" he asks and you nod your head, heading towards the bathroom, leaving Jake and his nerves for him to calm. But you wouldn't let him, how could he when you got out of the toilet wearing the shade of autumn that represents all of his thoughts and emotions for you.

You walked closer to him, merrily twirling around to show off, "What do you think?" you look at him expectantly, skittish for his reaction.

Jake gave you a once over, hands in his pockets as he raked in your appearance, from your head to toe, and he tried his best to come up with a coherent answer. "You are," he inhales, removing his hands from his pockets and throwing it up in the air and placing it on either of your shoulders, "ethereal."

His heart beats strangely fast, which is a natural occurrence whenever he's with you. It always happens whether he likes it or not, something that he has no control over. He fixes his gaze into your gorgeous eyes and he soaks in them. 

Everyday he swims to the thoughts of you, diving deep into the complexity of his feelings and hoping that when he ascends, you'll finally be able to see him in a different light.

"Say Y/N, would you like me to chaperone you during the fiesta?" he queries, and you couldn't help but laugh at his old method of asking you to be his date for the party.

You gathered his hands on your shoulders and held them into yours, transferring your warmth into his own skin as opposed to the cool air that starts to surround the house due to the darkening of the skies outside and the whirring of the air-conditioner, "I would love to."

Then your phone sets off, what a way to ruin the moment but you were pulled back into reality when you saw the caller.

"I'll be right back." you gave the man a tight smile, trudging down the hallways and out to the backyard to give yourself some privacy, unbeknownst of Jake's footsteps that followed you due to your anxiousness, but he made his presence hidden, and his blood boiled when he realized who it was that you're talking to.

He heard snippets of the conversation, and as much as he knows that he's in the wrong, the jealousy rises up to his stomach unprovoked, choking him until he's out of air.

"Yes, Hoonie, I'm having the best time here."

Best time because he's with you, making you feel like you're the only woman in the world.

"I do, I'll send you a photo of the dress soon."

The dress that he personally bought.

"Alright, take care. Uh-huh, love you too, my figure skating prince."

Well, that's fucking it.

The green eyed monster got the best of him, rage seeping through his bones and.. and he thinks he needs a glass of water to settle down. He runs to the kitchen, reaching for his favorite mug and filling it with ice cold water, letting it run down his throat and he wishes he could just dump it down on his brain to cool off the fiery envy that swiftly creeps up on his whole being.

He jumped a bit when you called his name, startling him when you were there, standing by the kitchen door with concern gracing your features, "Are you okay? Is something wrong? You don't look too good."

A barrage of questions and he answered it all in his brain in fear of saying something that might potentially hurt you.

Is he okay? No.

Is something wrong? A lot. You. Him. This. Whatever the fuck this is.

He doesn't look good? That’s where you're wrong. He always looks good.

His internal battle and fuming facade had you worried, taking steps closer to him in an attempt to console him. He was fine a few minutes ago, now he’s acting like this? 

The moment you stepped into his sanctuary, touching him on his biceps, all his walls broke down and he immediately pulled you closer to him, connecting your lips together in a hot, messy, searing kiss.

He held you by your waist and you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck, granting him the license to trap you between his sturdy body and the marbled counter.

On the other hand, when your boyfriend called you, taking in his soft voice, his longing words. Hearing him tell you how much he misses you and how everything will be easier only if he has you by his side.. and his never ending canadian pancake jokes, this time with maple syrup.

It reminds you that you are taken, but you let yourself fool around for too long and you're stricken with guilt. Sin written all over your heart and soul because Sunghoon's own heart was getting broken without him even knowing and Jake's will sooner or later be shattered as well.

You walked back inside the building, determined to put an end to this fallacy as soon as possible. You've let yourself fall into the rabbit hole, and you believe that you have been only missing your other half to the point where you willingly rekindled an old flame, thinking that this summer thing would be the answer to your loneliness.

But you proved yourself wrong yet again when you let yourself be submerged into Jake's honeyed touches and spicy kisses.

You couldn't simply say no to him, not when every crevice of your body has been explored by him, savored and shaped to perfection exactly to his liking.

You moaned his name when his hand massaged your boobs over the thin dress, his thumb adding slight pressure to where he's sure your nipples are located. His tongue never stopped invading your mouth, asserting dominance that you've never seen from him before.

He hoisted you up the counter, spreading your legs for him to slot his tiny waist in, and when the need for oxygen was needed, you both parted ways and the string of saliva between your lips made the tips of yours ears red.

Jake's heated gaze had you embarrassed, his left hand on your thigh started moving, deft fingers tracing faint lines on your skin and you barely made out the words.. 'M I N E.'

You were inclined to return his stare, and all you could do was to revive the long forgotten yearning that you had left a year ago, everything that has been existing inside his hazel orbs.

There were a lot of uncertainties. What if you didn't leave your small town to pursue a city life? What if you stayed here instead? Will the changes be different like how things were right now?

No lingering stares across the room, no skinships concealed by friendship, no more denying of what you two really are because.. fuck this all. Friends do not know the taste of each other, a simple platonic relationship doesn't give you a whole orchestra playing Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams like that one scene in Bridgerton.

No, friendship doesn't make you feel like you're in heaven but love does.

This was supposed to be a one time summer fling, when the leaves turn into the color of wine that you had been nursing late at night, a past time that you developed whenever you're troubled about what you're really going through with Jake; you shall leave it all behind.

You will, but for now, the necessity to bury yourself in Jake's iridescence is your utmost priority.

You pulled him in again for a kiss, this time with a plan.

"I don't think this will reach the bedroom." he murmurs, his hands all over your body as he tries to feel you more, palms finally back on your thighs to lift your dress up, revealing black laced panties that had him groaning and inevitably, harder down there.

You giggled, pecking his cheeks while you started to unbutton his denim shirt, tracing your fingers over his golden skin, "I don't mind, do whatever you want. Also, leave this on." you say, admiring his chiseled muscles under his top.

He curses under his breath, you really know how to rile him up. You know him too well, and he's down bad for that.

Jake has always been a good boy, and he doesn't need to be told twice. If you told him to do whatever, then he'll do just that. First, he plans to fuck you in that tiny little red dress.

His hand traveled to your panties, chuckling when he felt a wet spot in the middle, his middle and forefingers playing with it, "Damn baby, haven't done anything yet you're this wet?"

You whined at his teasing, moving your hips for more friction but Jake pulled away, causing you to protest which seemed to please him, given by his smug countenance. He clicked his tongue and raked in your appearance, in a complete disarray and he's glad that he can affect you this much.

"I need you to be patient, baby. Can you do it for me?" he mumbles, voice dropping a pitch lower and it makes you wetter because it's so damn hot, not like his predatory leering helps your condition. Although, as much as you wanted to test his leniency, you decided to listen to him this time around, sitting still and watching him do his thing. 

Your obedience greatly pleased the man, leaning down to give you a peck on your top lip, lightly nibbling on it before pulling away. 

His hands move on your arms for a second, moving up to your shoulders. His calloused palms, probably from doing sports and playing the violin, are clement against your smooth skin, goosebumps running along the path that was traced. 

Jake seems to be in a trance, hyper fixated on your body as he glides the straps down, guiding your arms so he could remove them through the straps, causing the upper portion of the dress to get loose in the process. 

The action reveals more of your supple chest for him to gawp and you let out a gasp when Jake buried his face on your cleavage, trailing smooches on your chest and when he can’t take it anymore, he straightens himself up and he completely removes the bodice of the dress. 

He takes the initiative to bring your bodies closer together, spreading your thighs wider and bunching the dress on your waist, until his hard on can be felt on your clothed womanhood. 

Jake then resumes his ministrations, hands going over your belly, outlining your rib cage and his fingers traces the shape of your breasts, the sensations are building up fast and the agitation is starting to get to you. You made that apparent when you wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him closer to give him a silent signal of where you want him to touch you. 

He only chuckles, dipping his head near your jawline to trail kisses over it, reaching your ears and whispering sly statements, “We’ll get there, princess. Hold on tight and enjoy the ride, okay?” 

“But Jake..” you whined and he shuts you up with a filthy, open-mouthed kiss where his tongue dominates your mouth, he takes that as an opportunity to engulf your boobs into his large hands, tenderly kneading and squeezing, tracing your areola in the process to make you squirm. 

You moan into his mouth when his fingers rub your erect nipples slowly, increasing in speed and pressure as seconds go by. Your moans getting louder when he adds some twisting and pulling, pleasurable but not enough to cause pain. 

Jake can’t help the groan that escaped him due to your incessant grinding, directly stimulating both of your lower areas. Your damp panties have been clinging on your pussy, your juices soaking even his jeans, specifically the area of his raging boner. 

Jake disconnects from the liplock, observing your tousled appearance and despite his wobbly vision, he can confidently say that you’re insanely otherworldly. 

The vermillion tint on your cheeks, blown-out pupils and bruised lips. Truly, the epitome of the goddess of beauty, his one and only. 

“Jake?” you questioned, in a hazy stupor with your labored breathing, “What happened?” 

Jake shakes his head, leaning down to rub the tip of his nose on yours, giving you a butterfly in the stomach-inducing feelings, “Just that you’re gorgeous.” 

He chuckles when you squeaked at his compliment, removing his hands from your boobs in lieu of grabbing your ass, further pressing you on his hardness before leaning down on your chest, his warm breath hitting your mounds that had you shuddering. 

You clutched on his shoulders for support when he began sucking on your nipple and gyrating on your covered wetness. You felt him flatten his tongue on your boob, covering an ample surface, turning into the hardened edge of his wet appendage flicking the nub repeatedly. 

A brave lioness is what you are, primed for battles and victory yet you are nothing but a lady in desperate need of release in Jake’s presence and skillful tongue. 

Soon enough, when your clit has been prodded far too many times by the rough fabric of your undergarment and your erected buds have also reached their limit, your back arched in pleasure, your orgasm washing over you like waves. 

Jake continued his movements, ceasing only when you whine in overstimulation. 

“My baby did a good job.” Jake praises you, patting your head and smoothing the bird’s nest on top of it. A spent smile is painted on your face, slumping onto the tiled countertop to catch your breath, then your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets when you hear Jake say that you’re not done yet.

He merely raised an eyebrow, getting rid of his pants and personally manhandling you into a position of his liking but is also comfortable for you. He pushed your panties to the side, too impatient to remove it and lining the tip of his leaking cock in your entrance. 

“I still haven’t cum yet, princess.” he mutters, holding your thighs apart as he plunges into you, inch by inch, “You’ll help me, right?” 

You nod your head, hands going over to his chest and he immediately grapples it in his, groaning in pleasure when your gummy walls sucked him in, but he held the overwhelming urge to do it one go as he wanted to feel you in the most intimate way. 

“That’s my good girl.” he moans, bottoming out of you. He stays motionless for a few minutes, giving you adequate time to adjust. Then he started moving, freeing your hands to grip the sides of your hips, his pace was tamed at first but he went feral when you beseech him for more. 

His thrusts gradually escalate, fast-moving and solid, making you feel so full. Every drag of his member on your slick creates squelching sounds mixed with your mewls, it rings in your eardrums, and the result is you getting wetter. 

You’re basically lathering his counter and skin with your juices but Jake couldn’t care less, frowning in concentration as he does his best to pleasure both of you. 

“Don’t stop.” you mumble along with other incoherent sentences, his darkened eyes glimmered, ramming inside you with all his might, adjusting a bit so he’s able to hit your sweet spot, and when he finally hits it, his reward is your chants of his name. 

“Don’t worry, babe.” he grunts, tilting to match your face to grace you a saccharine kiss, his pace unrelenting and merciless, not wasting any minute as he bullies into your wetness without any care in the world, “I don’t plan on stopping.” he mumbles against your lips.

The knot in your belly gets tighter each time his cock grazes your g-spot and you purposefully clenched around him, causing him to unconsciously dig his nails into the flesh of your thighs. 

The euphoric feeling was too much for you to handle, closing your eyes and dumping your head on his shoulder. 

Jake’s gasps and low grunts are echoing in your head, slightly opening your eyes when you feel a rather pleasant yet burning sensation, realizing that he’s rubbing your clit. Adding onto the stockpiling gratification. 

You heard Jake curse, expressing how breath-taking and marvelous you are, in every aspect and facet. You tried peeking at him in spite of your incoming cloud nine, and in your drunken stupor of paradise, your enticement towards his sweaty neck invoked you to lean in and suck on his skin. 

Jake moans in delight, a specially harsh thrust was given to you in the process, taking you by surprise as it strikes the perfect site that had you tingling and creaming all over his member. 

You accidentally bite a bit too hard on his neck, marginally leaving teeth marks that’ll surely take at least a few days to heal. 

Jake’s hips stuttered, groaning rather gutturally at your dripping, warm cavern’s involuntary clenching, seizing his cock and as much as he wishes for the intercourse to carry on for a little longer, he has also reached his limit. 

He releases his seed inside, painting your walls white and warming your core. He keep his languid strokes to ride your highs, halting when the dopamine dies down.  

The smell of sex drifts in the kitchen. Sweaty, hot, satisfaction and fulfillment surrounds the place. Both of your strained breathing reiterates the events that have transpired. 

You made the first move, lifting your head from his shoulder and pushing his sweaty locks that got stuck on his forehead, smiling at him giddily, “That was amazing.” 

He wheezes at your pronouncement, “I know. You are amazing.” 

“Why is it always me?” you complain, not accepting his never ending praises towards you. Besides, it wasn’t you who’s doing all the work in your.. endeavors. 

“Because,” he engulfs your hand in his, kissing your knuckles and fingers one by one, “that’s what you are. Amazing.” 

You roll your eyes at his flattery, then the joy you’re feeling turns into sorrow when he pulls out of you, some of his cum oozing out of your hole. The emptiness nearly made you whine but you fight off the impulsive thoughts of doing so. 

After cleaning up and making sure that you’re presentable for other people to see, Jake offered to take you home and you accepted. Throughout the ride, you two are singing at the top of your lungs, ranging from love songs to rock songs, tittering when the other’s voice cracks. 

When you’re finally home, you are reluctant to separate with him, but he assured you that he’ll see you tomorrow. As he should because he is your date for the event. 

Bidding goodbyes was a herculean task, managing to do it when your parents themselves went out of the house due to their anxiety at the car parked in front of the house for 10 minutes. 

You steer away from your family’s curious questions, telling them that you are tired (the truth) and you crave some alone time to rejuvenate. 

 It is a very particular day, like you two have discovered something new that veered your social link to a blithe yet brooding one. The possible consequences of your poor decision-making was washed away by fatigue, thoughts of Jake and the excitement of tomorrow’s event lulling you to a dreamless yet deep sleep.

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

You watch the youngsters run and jump in thrill at the vibrant and bright atmosphere of the location for the town’s long awaited celebration, sighing through your nose but  still laughing at their energetic vibes. 

“Takoyaki!” Riki exclaims, nudging his friends and quite literally yowling at them when they disagree at his suggestion.

“I want some candied apples.” Jungwon points at a certain stall, Sunoo’s eyes following suit and the smile that he’s sporting is the biggest you have ever seen. (desserts do have that kind of effect, maybe that’s why they always have a room in the stomach.) 

“Really? So early in the evening and you want sweets?” the tallest among the guys deadpans, turning to you for help, “Knock some sense into these idiots.” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, nonchalantly waving Riki off, “Put on your big boy pants and deal with it.” 

You ignore your brother’s bleating, facing Jake who is beside you the entire time and fretting over the fact that your mother and father left you to look after the boys to have their ‘alone time.’ 

“Jake?” you called for his attention when you noticed that he wasn’t responding to your hardcore yapping, only to find him immersed at you. 

“Jake? Is something wrong?” the thumping in your chest accelerates as he peers at you with dreamy eyes, permeating with fondness and yearning. You are not entirely sure on how to react, standing there like a statue until the man in front of you scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry.” he laughs bashfully, “You are simply glowing, a rare jewel. I can’t stop admiring you.” he admits and the blush on your cheeks darkened. 

Your appearance is not something to be confident at, you look decent at best if you say so. 

You wore the red dress that Jake gifted you, paired with rubber shoes of the same hue. Your hair is styled in a dutch braid, decorating your strands with various pins and ribbons for the aesthetic, and finally, a natural make-up for added radiance. 

You literally see no reason for him to goggle at you, but then again, you can’t and don’t perceive yourself in Jake’s point of view. You’d be shocked if you learned how angelic you are in his world. 

In Jake’s standpoint, the tinge of cerise complements your sublime beauty like no other. It brings out the tincture of your eyes, the carmine of your cheeks, the cherry of your lips and it greatly enhances your flushed complexion. A mermaid you resembled because of your hair, relatively constructing an illusion of enchantment.

That is why he cannot fully fathom why you’re denying his words, simply because Jake is confident about it. He frankly believes that there is no other like you— unparalleled and stellar. 

“Be serious for once.” you say, thwacking his shoulders with a snigger.

Jake frowns, facing you and catching your hand in his, he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a shrilling voice, one that had you reeling in consternation and abhorrence. 

“Well, well, well. The power couple has revealed themselves.” 

Great, the night is young and it’s already ruined by none other than..

“Chaewon.” Jake utters her name with such revolt, shielding you from her as he protectively shifts you behind him, “What do you want?”

“You wound me.” she places a hand on her chest, faking a sad expression before she wheezes and narrows her overly eye-shadowed eyes in your direction, “Hello again, Y/N. Won’t you come and greet me as well?” 

Your whole body trembles when you hear her call your name in a sweet, sickening manner with an underlying condescending tone. It wreaks havoc in your supposed to be zen state, the rain in your glossy orbs threatens to fall any minute the more the interaction is prolonged. 

Jake senses your dilemma, and he knows that he has to do something, anything to not let this get out of control. He needs to wrap this up asap. 

“Chaewon!” Jake roared, seething and perturbed, “Get out of here while I’m asking nicely.” 

The girl hoots in laughter, obnoxiously even, holding onto her tummy, “You’re hilarious, Jake. Why are you acting like nothing happened between us?” 

Time seemed to come to a pause at her revelation. Surely, that wasn’t what she said, right? 

You must be mistaken because Jake? The boy that you trust the most, the only person who is aware of your trauma towards Chaewon’s wrongdoings.. something transpired between them? 

Your head that is hanging low amidst the whole ordeal tilts to spare the girl a glance, which you shouldn’t have because you have now witnessed the most gut-wrenching sight: Chaewon wearing the white dress that was supposed to be yours. 

She peeks and notices your gaze on her, whirling around to show-off with a haughty smirk, “Pretty isn’t it? I’m really happy that Jake gave this to me.” 

“Jake gave that to you?” you whisper, and like a bat with supersonic hearing, she makes-out what you just said without any problem.

“Yeah!” Chaewon giggles, and she dropped the bomb that exploded all over your conviction and solidarity, “I mean.. From all the nights me and Jake have spent in his bed, I think it’s only natural for him to give me some gifts.” 

Your eyes widened in anguish, meeting Jake’s with resentment. You don’t even need to explain yourself, your betrayed expression articulates all the emotions that are fermenting in your being, spoiling the gaiety and leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

You bitterly tugged your hand, grimly retiring in this shithole wordlessly. Jake’s pleas were blocked out as the ringing in your ears is too noisy, currently focusing on how excruciating it is to wear your rose tinted glasses.

Seeing in a bird's eye view, the earthquake of indulging in your desires, the red flags; rejecting the clues and signals in place of shooting stars and red roses.

There is nothing wrong with harboring intense, burning feelings for someone. There is nothing wrong about it except…

You choked back a sob as you stood still in the middle of some empty street, covering your mouth with your palm while you used your free arm to hug yourself, a coping mechanism to the either the cold breeze or the icy realization of your own breach of trust.

To the person that you are tied to. The lover whose heart is reserved for you but here you are, cracking his entirety unbeknownst to him. 

Truth to be told, you are apprehensive about the entirety of your solstitial days. You are no doubt in the utopia of cloudy marshmallows and lustrous sequins, such vista is brought to you by your paramore, Jake. 

Your affairs are not accepted by society, deemed illegal by the law and an unforgivable misdeed by the gods. Yet you couldn’t, for the hell of it, deny the fact that you are over the moon, spending time with your revived ardor that you thought had passed away. 

Reflecting on your decisions brings you on a disparaging trip to guilt land, your sins are not reasonable, will never be decipherable but love has always been like that, isn’t it?

Working in mysterious ways, playing with fate and destiny, using cupid as its puppet and people’s heartstrings as marionettes until it cooks up its desired results. 

But must it be so ferocious? 

You are having a meltdown, drowning in these poisonous thoughts when a distant voice clears your smoggy psyche. 

“Y/N!”

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

Jake fumbled. He fucked up. So bad. 

He was motionless for a minute, wide eyed and panicking as the noise around the ongoing celebration helped him block the cringe-y voice of the girl, whose presence if he must say, is irking as hell. 

He watches as your lovely figure walks further away, getting smaller the more distance you put between you, and it’s nauseating. The agony was fucking too much, not foreseeing the events.

He was meant to be with you the entire night. Eating delicious foods from the stalls, winning you a giant teddy bear, watching the grand fireworks whilst he kisses you under the radiance of the natural and artificial stars. 

And whose fault is this? 

Jake turns to the culprit, her innocent facade pissing him off to no end.

“What the fuck, Chaewon? Have you finally lost your marbles? Didn’t I tell you to leave me the fuck alone?!” he yells, his emotional intelligence gone because the mere thought of losing you is not worth the effort of suppressing his anger. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms in disdain, “I only came here to say hi and to show the dress.” 

The scene appears to catch the attention of the bystanders around them, and multiple pairs of eyes scrutinize the pair, which is not good for the sake of it all. 

Jake inhales, praying to anyone out there to give him the patience that he’s currently lacking, “How many times do I have to say that I’m not interested in you? We fucked once and I was drunk! That’s the end of the story!” 

“So fucking around with Y/N is better? Have you forgotten that she has a boyfriend? You really want to spend your precious summer with a whore?” she rebuts, and what she labeled you was the last straw. 

He ruthlessly gripped her arms, no caution nor forgiving, “Listen here, you do not call Y/N a whore ever again. She is so much better than you and,” Jake scoffs, eyeing her with disdain, “you do not even come close to her level. So, I would really fucking appreciate it if you zip your shitty mouth, or else I will make your life a living hell.” 

Jake lets her go, clenching his fists and hiding it inside his pockets, glaring at the teary-eyed woman but he certainly does not fucking care. She can bawl her eyes out and spread gossip about him, but he won’t let any disrespect towards you pass. 

He turns around, quickly changing plans as he thinks of ways on how to make things up with you, but before that, he took a shot of belittling the girl, “Now that I see it, that dress is ugly as hell. You can keep that, it's only beautiful if Y/N wears it.” 

Jake then runs off, in a mission to find you. 

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

“Y/N!”

It took you a minute to process what’s happening. One moment you are alone and the next second you’re engulfed in a warm hug. Must be a divine intervention or something, your knight in shining armor coming in at the right time to save you from the sorrows of your own faults. 

You pushed him away rather forcefully, vigorously wiping the remnants of your tears away but Jake has seen it either way. 

He cups your face, mellowly speaking, “Please don’t cry, baby-”

“Stop!” you cried out, placing your hands on his chest to put a tiny gap in the middle, a feeble attempt at refusing his support, “Stop calling me that if you don’t mean it. I-I.. Please, I want to be alone.”

You’re beginning to go into hysterics, sobbing uncontrollably now that you have been slapped by reality. 

“I don’t want you to be alone, and,” Jake steeled himself, not accepting your rejection, “I mean it. You are my baby so please Y/N, let’s talk this out.” 

You shake your head, struggling against his firm hold. The complexity of the whole situation embroiders dark threads in your snowy fabric, commencing the madness in you, and you’re so damn afraid if you’ll be able to surpass this test. 

“Jake, I don’t want to- Please, stop, I can't do this anymore.”

You are too busy wallowing in despair that you failed to notice Jake’s terror stricken guise. All of his brain cells are working overtime to think of something, anything to dissuade your incoming rash verdict about your.. circumstances with him.  

Jake slides his palms onto your shoulders, lowering his forehead down the crook of your neck, shutting his eyes and relaxing for a second. 

It’s now or never.

“You can’t do this anymore while I've been here, doing it ever since.” he mumbles, decibels reaching your ears and it makes you confused.

You stay rooted in your spot, listening to his shallow breaths, “Doing what?” 

“This Y/N.” he lifts his head up, meeting your weeping orbs as his lower lips tremble, wavering and hopeless mien, “I did not pursue Australia for the sole reason of staying here, because I thought that you’d continue college in this town.” 

Wait. You are the reason?

“I wanted to be with you, then I learned that you applied to a university in the city and I was too late. I wasn’t able to go with you because I hesitated. And that was the biggest mistake that I will forever regret.”

Jake didn’t give you the time to butt in, he prattled on and on, explaining and disclosing every bit of information that you have to know.

Chaewon and him did have a history, but he was drunk and was in need of some sort of intimacy because all he did was miss you while you were gone. Yes, shitty excuse but that was the truth. He apologizes hundreds of times for that, verbalizing that he avoids her like the plague after their one time encounter, and that she’s the one who kept on persisting in a relationship with him. 

He doesn’t want to do shit with her and he is willing to spend a lifetime making it up to you if it means that you’ll forgive him. 

You mutter his name in hopes of cutting his reverie to tell him that it’s okay. That he doesn’t need to be unfair to himself and that you also have made an awful blunder yourself. So, you tried again but then he blurted out the words that rewired your verdict.

“Y/N, I love you. I am so fucking in love with you. You inhabit my day, possess my nights and I-”

You finally placed your lips on his, shutting him up for good. You can’t contain your selfishness anymore, and you’re going to hell for it.

“Jake, I understand.” you whisper against his lips, “No more talking. Just kiss me.” 

And he did. A passion filled kiss in the dimly lit middle of the road, and soon enough the two of you are giggling out of your wits, running towards his flat to savor each other beneath the raving moon and stars. 

Ablaze sheets and shushed confessions of affection, lustful chants of pet and nicknames, hot and ponderous breathing. Lips molding, tongues dancing, limbs intertwining — love was made multiple times that night. 

Jake felt his turbulent ambitions being nurtured into a calm sea. 

When he holds your sweaty body close to his after the last of the many rounds of ardent copulation, he pecks the crown of your head, thinking that he’s got you. 

Imagine the bewilderment and fretfulness that he undergoes when the next morning, he wakes up and you’re not by his side. The slot beside him is where you’re meant to be. 

So, why are you not here?

He is like a thundercloud, fixing himself up and taking a dangerous, speedy trip towards your house only to gain the certitude that you have left. 

“Yeah, she came back home during dawn, grabbing her suitcases and catching the earliest train back to the city. She didn’t say anything to us, just that she needs to go back as soon as possible.” Riki clarifies groggily, your brother rubbing his eyes sleepily, overlooking Jake’s fall from grace. 

He thanks the younger and when the door is shut, he’s out. 

He was in a sinking boat the whole fucking time, his white knuckle grip on the handles was useless as he’s the only one dying with it. 

You, his gospel, are once more absent to guide him, and he is left alone to fend for himself. 

Jake enters his car in a daze before laughing to himself, beyond miserable and breaking down. You can’t even be bothered to give him an acrid goodbye. Was he not worth the time? Was he not worth it? 

He slams his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes going over the hidden compartment where the bracelet with your initials sits. Looks like he won’t be able to give you that, no?

“What do we do now, Sim Jaeyun?” 

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

Your sudden disappearance deeply troubled Jake. His gut tells him not to contact you first, listening to his intuitions and twiddled on his thumbs. 

He waited for a call, message, anything to let him know that you have not abandoned him, but not once did he receive one. A complete dissonance and in a flash, the pigments in his face that you have sprayed were drained. 

He prayed for a sign to the deities because he’s tired of waiting, ‘Give me a reason to stop chasing after her.’

And what he asks, he gets. 

One day, when he was rolling around in his bed, stalking your social media, he saw that you updated on instagram. He immediately opened the app, but he was crushed like an insect at what he saw.

It was a photo of you and your boyfriend. Seems like your ‘ice skating prince’ won a tournament, no trophies at hand since his prize is already in his arms— you. 

Jake lies down on his back, his arms covering his eyes and he lets the salty tears that he’s been keeping at bay for the longest time freely stream down. He granted himself the license to cry this time, to have a moment of weakness as he grieves at the newly formed memorabilia of adulation and picturesque remembrance.

You should have at least given him some sort of magnanimity, a heads-up perhaps? 

Yes, it was necessary so he could’ve commenced the digging of the graves. One for his dying gray heart and one for his wilted, parched crimson roses. 

Jake is no stranger of the naked truth, that he was the other guy in the portrait. The snake and not the proprietor but even for a trifling moment, despite the bleak and slim chances, he believed that the silver lining exists. 

He was so sure that the inkling sentiments, skinship, companionship throughout the summer would mean something to you.. If not, then why would you be so cruel to give it to him? Why would you be so heartless to let him think that he could win against someone that is unrivaled when it comes to a space in your heart and life? 

He spilled his booked sentiments, you let him savor you, allowed him to follow you to the depths of nowhere only to pull back at the last minute, leaving him stranded at the end of the cliff. 

So he did what must be done. He jumped in the deep, dark ocean of precariousness. Hoping that at the end of his expedition, a treasure would be waiting for him. 

Jake did find fortune alright; rusted, grotesque, and counterfeit. 

He was a deep-dyed, utter fool. Pathetic at its finest for falling for a person he could never, ever have. 

Indeed, a complete defeat. What was the name of the victor again? Ah, right.

Park Sunghoon. 

taglist:

@deobitifull @dreamiestay @shiningnono @anormieee

[stillmonsterz]

brave it together

pairing: jay x reader, jake x reader genre: smut, angst, slight humor summary: ever since you started your first year at sadame university three months ago, jay has been bothering you. you try to keep your head bowed down, but you're finding it harder and harder to keep to yourself. an approaching storm, a party, and your job at the university's library inadvertently lead to you being entangled in the clandestine world of the karma club. you're starting to discover that there's more to jay, and more to yourself, than you could have imagined. contains: unprotected sex, rape, noncon, drug usage, alcohol mention, manipulation, suicide, murder, death threats, infidelity, exhibitionism, physical violence, piss. word count: 24.6k

taglist: @moon7jay @ui11iane @belowbun

Sometimes you wished you could be someone else. You wished you could have been like the other girls at your university, the ones that crowd in groups, that go to the bathroom together to make sure that they’re all safe. Girls that talk about everything with each other, who share common interests and talk to each other about their own interests. Friends who would listen.

You wished that you could know what to say. You wished that you knew the right way to act, to speak, the right way to think to make people care. You wished you didn’t repel others.

You only wished for this sometimes. 

You’re stocking the shelves of the university’s library. It’s an easy campus job, one that pays decently. You’re here on a partial scholarship, so you tried to save money however you could. The library was one of the reasons why you applied here in the first place; it was well-stocked, had vaulted ceilings in the main room, and, to your delight, had physical copies of rare books. 

 All you wished for right now was for the day to end so you could go home, watch an awful 60s giallo with vibrant paint for blood and eye candy to ogle, and avoid an encounter from Jay. You weren’t in the mood today.

Isa, a girl two years above yours, pushed the metal cart replete with books and occasionally pointed out where they should go. She had been doing this since last year, so she had a far better idea of you about the layout of the library.

You crouched down to the carpeted floor, scouring the bottom-most shelf for the appropriate spot.  “Next to the copy of ‘Neuroscience for Dummies’,” Isa said idly, pointing with a well-manicured finger. Isa was red-headed and gorgeous, and had an impeccable sense of fashion; she was wearing a white cashmere sweater with a thick, plaid skirt, knee-high black socks, and leather shoes. On top of that, she was intelligent, friendly, and incredibly personable. You wondered why she wouldn’t go somewhere else and leave the library to losers such as yourself. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, placing the book in its proper place.

“You know,” Isa began. You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, which were sparkling with a mischievous glint. “You’d look pretty with some makeup.”

You blinked, uncertain of how to respond. “I’m not pretty right now?”

Isa waved her hands contritely and shook her head. “No, no, not at all. I mean, you are pretty, it’s just…you’d look even better with makeup.”

“Oh…” Grasping for another book, you avoided Isa’s gaze. Not only did you not believe her, but you wondered why she was telling you this. She was probably just messing with you. Even a saint would take one look at you and tell you to kill yourself. For whatever reason, people seemed to dislike you, as though you emitted a repelling odor. “Look better?”

“Yeah,” Isa said cheerfully. “If you look better, you’ll feel better, too.” 

“Maybe,” you said, shoving another book onto the shelf. 

“Seriously,” Isa continued, and you wished she would just drop it. “You could probably pull a Karma Club member if you tried.”

Now she was definitely just fucking with you. She of all people should know that guys like that would have very little interest in you; Isa was popular, and you had seen her and her friends hanging around some of the KC members. Whenever you saw her and Jay in the same place, you’d walk the other way. Thankfully, Jay tended to spare you the humiliation of being mocked in front of others. He preferred to do it when no one was looking. “I’d rather not,” you replied, feeling around for another book from the cart. Isa handed you one, and you shuffled away to shelve it.

“Aw, why not?”

“They’re…weird,” you said simply. 

“They’re not all bad,” Isa said, and you slowly turned your head to glance up at her. Isa’s face was sheepish, and she was toying with her bracelet. Jesus. She liked one of them? Having a crush on a Karma Club member was practically a form of hybristophilia. You wondered which one she liked. Probably Jake, the nice one. 

Isa started to speak again, but some male student came up to her. “The printer’s busted again,” he said with an eye roll. 

“Annoying,” Isa muttered. “I’ll be back. Try not to have too much fun without me.” You gave her a curt nod and she gave you a thumbs-up before scampering off to save the day. You watched her retreating figure, then looked down at your hands. 

You reached up to grab another book from the cart, but someone’s hand rested on yours. First, your eyes traced the shoes (balenciaga sneakers) then up to his jeans (Levi’s, black, distressed), his Joy Division t-shirt, and finally, reluctantly, they settled on his face. Penetrating dark eyes framed by thick eyebrows, one of which was adorned by a silver eyebrow piercing looked down at you. His lips were fixed into their habitual crooked smirk. The heady scent of Tom Ford wafted from his body. 

“Yeah, you could be really pretty,” Jay said, batting his eyelashes. He grabbed your hand and jerked you upright, your chest hitting the metal cart as you staggered to your feet. “You could be a model, honestly.”

As always, you just stared at Jay blankly. What else could you do? The idea of begging him to stop or making some quippy little remark just made you cringe at yourself. Jay dropped your arm and walked behind you, rubbing your shoulders with a strong grip. You managed to avoid flinching, something you considered a small victory.

“Don’t know why Isa lied to you,” Jay whispered into your ear. “If you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig. If you put some makeup on a prude, it’s still a frigid little bitch, wouldn’t you say?”

Clenched teeth, pursed lips, fixed gaze. That was how you dealt with Jay. You stared at the books directly in front of you, rearranging them in your head by height. 

Jay made a low noise at the back of his throat. “You know,” he began, and his thumbs dug into your shoulder blades, “I’m getting really sick of this mute shit. I know you can talk, prude. Say it. Say that you’re a bitch.” 

The Secret History of the Moon Landing is the tallest, from your direct line of sight. You could put it with Mars and its Mysteries: The Red Planet Uncovered, and then Pluto as a Planet. 

Jay’s fingers clenched around your shoulders painfully. “I told you to talk. Come on.”

You and Jay were obscured by the tall bookshelf in front of you, so when Isa’s sleek oxfords came into view, Jay slid his arms around your neck in what could be mistaken for an embrace. “Hey, Isa,” Jay said amicably, his chin resting on your shoulder. You finally looked away from the shelf.

“Hi, Jay,” Isa said, stopping just beside the book cart. Her gaze flicked from you to Jay to Jay’s arms around you. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“Nah, her and I go way back,” Jay said, and you didn’t have to look at him to know that he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Been taking care of her since she got to Sad.” The school’s name was Sadame University, but everyone just called it Sad U or just Sad. 

Isa’s eyes kept flashing between you and Jay, and the genuine smile she normally wore had been replaced by a far less sanguine expression. “Oh, wow,” she said softly, fiddling with her charm bracelet again. 

Jay nodded, his black hair tickling your chin. “Mhm. I was just inviting her to come to the KC party with me, but she doesn’t want to come.” He tilted your chin towards him, so that you were forced to look at him. “You should go out more,” he said lightly, but his eyes betrayed him. 

You didn’t say a word. 

His hand dropped back down to your shoulder. “Doesn’t go out and doesn’t talk. How do you put up with her?” Jay’s voice was jovial, almost like you were really friends. 

Isa laughed, almost too enthusiastically. “I know, right? These are the best years of our life, you know? Can’t waste ‘em inside all the time.” Does she seriously believe that shit? 

“Yeah, you should listen to your cute friend more often,” Jay said, shaking you once before clapping you on the back and letting go of you. He nodded at Isa, who was preening in front of Jay. “You should come to the party, Isa. The storm party on Friday, at Yeonjun’s. You know where his place is?”

“No, I don’t,” Isa said, tilting her head. Her glossy lips were pursed, and she admittedly looked really cute. If you didn’t know what kind of person Jay really was, you would think that they would make a good couple based on looks alone. Studious and playful Isa with pierced, crude Jay.  A bunny with a wolf. 

“I’ll take you,” Jay said, striding towards her. “You got my number?” 

“I have your Snap, I think.”

They exchanged numbers. You went back to stocking books. 

After a lengthy conversation that you had tuned out, you felt Jay ruffle your hair. “See you around, prude,” he whispered before walking away. His hands were shoved in his pockets. 

Isa stared after him before turning to you and biting her lip. “I didn’t know you knew Jay,” Isa said, her tone playfully accusatory. “You sly vixen.”

“You know him?”

Isa paused. “You could say that. He’s cute.”

“I didn’t know he was your type,” you said simply. “I thought you’d be into, uh, Jake.”

Isa snorted. “Nah, didn’t you hear?”

“No, what?”

Isa giggled before leaning in, as though she was telling a trade secret. “I heard that Jake is kind of a dick.”

– 

You had become disillusioned with the Karma Club mere hours into your first day at Sadame University. During an idle walk around the campus after your first class, you had ended up near a warehouse next to the facility where the sporting equipment was kept. There, you had seen a tanned, lean man standing in front of an equally tall person who was caged against the wall of the warehouse. You lingered in the parking lot facing the warehouse, hiding yourself behind one of the staff’s pick-up trucks. 

The tanned one, clad in all black, was goading the other one. A third person, an almost eerily-pale man wearing a brown blazer with a turtleneck and black slacks, was watching from a safe distance. 

“Go on,” the one in all black said. “Hit me. Unless you’re too pussy.”

Finally, the one pressed against the wall landed a feeble punch on his assailant’s cheek. The two other men looked at each other before bursting out into laughter. 

“At least pretend to be hurt, Jay,” the pale one had said, clapping his friend on the back. “You’re making him look bad.”

“You’re right,” Jay had said, clearing his throat. He pretended to be blown backwards, and his friend laughed even harder. Jay righted himself. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, but his body language seemed so tense, reminiscent of a dog with raised hackles. The guy who had thrown the punch at Jay looked confused and embarrassed, almost meek.

“Hey. You hit me first,” Jay had said. “Didn’t he, Sunghoon?”

“He did,” Sunghoon had said, nodding sagely. “He…I think he bruised you, Jay.”

“Bruised me,” Jay said, cracking his knuckles. “So this is a fight now.” With that, Jay had released an onslaught of punches onto the guy’s body. You were a fair distance away from the fight, if you could call it that, but you could still hear the thump of skin on skin. As Jay continued to wail on him, the guy slowly crumpled to his feet and shielded himself from the hits, covering his face with his arms. Sunghoon just watched, still laughing to himself. 

Jay had spit on the dirt. He had said something you couldn’t hear before digging his hands into his pockets. As he surveyed the school grounds, maybe for witnesses, his eyes landed directly on you. You stared back at him, your stomach dropping. You really hadn’t wanted to be involved in whatever hazing ritual this was. You hid yourself behind the truck again, to no avail. Jay stalked towards you, putting his hand up so that Sunghoon wouldn’t follow. 

You leaned against the trunk of the pick-up truck, and Jay stood in front of you. He assessed you for a nearly unbearably long time, taking in your appearance from your toes to your head. He crossed his arms and caught your gaze. An unexpected smile graced his lips, revealing a deep dimple on his cheek. He was unmistakably handsome. 

“Hey. No need to be scared. That was just something between friends,” Jay had said, his voice devoid of the haughtiness you’d heard earlier.  “We were just playing.”

You nodded, your hands clutching the straps of your backpack. Like you were a kid. 

Jay had frowned, scratching the back of his head. Then he stuck his hand out, regaining his smile. “I’m Jay, Jay Park. I’m a business major. Third year.”

You could see where his knuckles had split because of how hard he had hit that guy, and you were so captured by the sight that you didn’t shake his hand or talk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Sometimes you just forgot to talk. 

“Hey,” Jay said, and your eyes flickered back up to his face. HIs smile had completely disappeared, and you wondered if it had been very difficult for him to maintain a veneer of civility. “Don’t be rude. What’s your name?” 

You told him your name, withholding your major. 

“Never heard of you,” he had said with a sniff, withdrawing his hand. “Are you new?”

You nodded again. 

“Jesus.” Jay stepped closer to you, and somehow the frustration dripping from his voice and painted on his face was familiar. “Do you talk?”

“If I know someone,” you said.

Jay had laughed mirthlessly. “Aren’t you special? ‘I’m too good to talk to other people, I’m so mysterious, look at me!’ Anyone ever tell you that that shit isn’t cute?”

Plenty of times, you had thought. Instead of saying that, you just shrugged. 

“Fucking weirdo,” Jay had muttered. “Look, don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay? Or else I’ll…”

“Or else what?”

Jay scoffed and slammed one hand next to your head, his rings scraping the exterior truck. His face had craned towards your own, and his eyes flickered with a cold, sadistic gleam. “Or else…” Jay had leaned in towards your ear, whispering, “Or else I’ll do something really, really bad.”

With that, he hit the truck once more for good measure and strode away. His friend Sunghoon had followed behind him, casting a withering glance at you as he crossed the parking lot. 

You didn’t look back at the person Jay had beat up. You just walked to your next lecture hall, sat down, and tried to focus.

You hadn’t known it then, but that had been your first encounter with two of the members of the Karma Club. Through sheer social osmosis over the past three months, you had learnt about them - more than you had ever wanted to, really. The Karma Club was an exclusive society that had been founded at Sadame some time in the 60s. The idea was to round up the richest, most powerful students -or, alternatively, the students who wanted to have a “lot of fucking fun”- and give them carte blanche to do whatever they wanted.

 Students is a broad term for them. There’s never been a female member of Karma Club to date. The closest a woman could get to being punched is to date one of the members, although you don’t see why anyone would want that. They’re attractive, sure, but between the stories you’ve heard, the things you’ve seen, and what you’ve experienced, you’d rather toss yourself off of the roof than date a member of that stupid fucking club. 

There were seven members: Heeseung Lee, Sunghoon Park, Jake Sim, Sunoo Kim, Jungwon Yang, Nishimura Riki, and Jay Park. Generally, people either tried to avoid the members, or they did everything they could to get their attention. Apparently last year Sunoo had gotten pissed off at the Sad U cheerleading team and put laxatives in their pre-game protein shakes, but they all showed up to his birthday party the following month anyways. There was another rumour, that Heeseung had vandalized the interior of an upscale restaurant in the city because his girlfriend didn’t like the hors d’oeuvres. 

You figured that Jay Park fit squarely into the “richest and most powerful” student category, because you had never witnessed him have fun, at least in the traditional sense. When he smiled, it was generally because someone else was in pain. The only smile you’d seen him wear was that self-satisfied smirk.

At any rate, there it was. Your first introduction to the Karma Club, your first meeting with Jay, and the last time a man had voluntarily spoken to you at school. Go figure.

– 

After your unfortunate encounter with Jay in the library, you needed a pick-me-up, and fast. You made a beeline for the smoothie shop in the Stopkewich dorms. Your university had four colleges: Stopkewich, where the liberal arts majors tended to stay, Fawcett, where most of the dorm parties took place, Nakashima, the unofficial home of the STEM majors, and Stoker college, where the most affluent students lived. It was there that the Karma Club resided, in a tall, red brick building surrounded by oak trees marked by a large, multi-tiered fountain. 

Stopkewich was more conservative, a simple light brick college with a stone path leading into one of the entrances. Groups of people milled about under copses of trees or rested on the plush, well-maintained grass. It was a dreary day, but the weather was mild. As you walked through the door, you wished that you had chosen this college instead. You had decided to be practical and chose the college whose classes were closest to your own dorm, so you had chosen Fawcett. Without any knowledge of the intricate culture behind the colleges, you had ended up in the loudest one. Worse yet, you couldn’t switch out of it. 

Every college had their own restaurants. Stopkewich’s smoothie shop was situated right next to their vegan and gluten-free place, staffed by two enthusiastic, perky goths. To your delight, your favourite worker was there, refilling the bucket of biodegradable straws. 

“Hi, Lily,” you said, walking to the counter. A girl with pink hair, large eyes, and a wide smile turned to look at you.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “You want to try my newest concoction?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“It’s going to be passionfruit, mango, strawberry…”

You shrugged. “Sounds standard so far.”

“And maca root,” she added, holding up a tuberous plant with a wicked grin.

“Isn’t that…doesn’t that boost fertility?” you asked suspiciously.

Lily pulled out a bamboo cutting board and started chopping the root into tiny pieces. “No clue. I bought it because it sounded like macaroon. They never should have let my goofy ass buy the ingredients.”

“I see.”

Lily tossed the root into the blender and started heaping fruits inside of it. “Have you heard about that storm that’s coming?”

You sat down on one of the bright red stools while you waited. “No.”

“It’s supposed to be bad,” she said, turning on the blender. She raised her voice so she could be heard over the noise. “They’re saying we might lose power.”

“When?” you yelled.

“This Friday.” Lily turned off the blender and poured the smoothie into a glass jar. If you brought ten glass jars to the smoothie shop, they’d give you a free smoothie. You were gunning for a free smoothie by the end of the week. 

You paid for the drink with your campus card and took a sip. “Well?” she asked expectantly, leaning over the counter. 

“It’s good,” you said, staring down at the vibrantly-coloured smoothie. “Can’t even taste the fertility.”

“Another win for me,” she said, wiping down the counter. 

“Thanks, Lily.”

Lily shot a finger gun at you and winked. “That’s what I’m here for.”

You continued to drink your smoothie, swinging your feet as you sat on the colourful stool. Normally, you didn’t like to linger in public spaces, but Jay never came to Stopkewich. Lily was so calm and friendly, and she didn’t pressure you to talk, so you weren’t in a rush to leave.

“You know, you’re my favourite customer,” Lily said. 

You smiled softly. “Really?”

“Mhm. The other day, one of those stupid Kum Club members came here and asked for something that wasn’t on the menu. I said I don’t do remix smoothies, and he got so mad.”

You didn’t have trouble picturing which one that could be. 

“Those guys are freaks,” Lily said, wiping her hands on her apron. “I swear I remember hearing that they tried to straight up murder someone in the bathroom over something silly.”

“That sounds a little far-fetched.” Jay was a dick, but you couldn’t imagine him killing someone in cold blood.

Lily pointed at you. “You’ve only been here for a few months, so you don’t know. The Karma Club is far-fetched. That’s how they get away with it.”

–

It was always a bit bittersweet, leaving Stopkewich. Here, you almost blended in. There were quite a few moody girls who dressed in long skirts and baggy sweaters, who kept their heads low and wore bulky over-ear headphones. They milled about, smoking joints wrapped with rose petals and sage, sitting in corners drawing. 

The short trek to Fawcett gave way to girls wearing trendy, cute crop tops with curve-fitting jeans and guys wearing the ugliest fucking outfits imaginable. You wondered what the point of being cute was when all you had to show for it were idiots wearing Nike techs? 

Navigating the halls of your college was always a task. Somehow, there was always a throng of people cluttering the halls. Isa lived in this college too, and would wave every time she saw you. Thankfully, you didn’t see her today, so you could safely slip inside of your dorm room. 

You threw yourself onto your bed and sighed deeply, allowing yourself to decompress. Soon, you would do your homework, blasting music to drown out the noises of young adult debauchery. Then, like every other night when the weather was good, you would sneak over to the library, use the entrance to the roof located on the third floor, and sit on the roof and smoke. It was one of your few acts of rebellion, although you doubted that willingly poisoning yourself could be considered an act of rebellion against anything besides good health. 

For now, you rested. 

–

The next day was more of the same. Long, tiresome classes, stint at the library, brief reprieve with Lily, then to your dorm room. Strangely enough, Jay hadn’t spoken to you. Over the past three months, you had grown accustomed to at least a “prude bitch” being tossed at you, or even more.

He had been getting worse. Lately, just like yesterday, he’s been touching you. You don’t know how you feel about it, nor do you know why his behavior has been escalating. 

When you walked into Fawcett again and headed left to get to your dorm room, you saw Jay and Jake Sim hovering near a bulletin-board. You’d be lying if you didn’t find Jake a little cute, despite the unsavoury things you had heard about him. He had tousled, dark brown hair and a wide smile. He was wearing the navy blue Sad U sweatshirt with a baggy pair of grey sweatpants. Seeing Jay standing next to him with a scowl on his face ruined the picture, however. 

“He’s always fucking late,” you heard Jay mutter. You figured that he was talking about Anton, one of the only Karma Club affiliates you knew that didn’t live in Stoker. He was rich enough, popular enough, and snarky enough, but maybe being around the Karma Club that often would drive you insane. Jay had accosted you a few times while he was waiting for Anton, but he had never had Jake in tow. In fact, you rarely saw Jake and Jay hang out. 

This didn’t concern you. You were about to turn on your heels and head back outside when you heard Jay call your name mockingly. When you looked up, he was beckoning you with his fingers lazily. 

That little motion pissed you off, so you decided to leave, clutching your little glass jar. As soon as you opened the heavy wooden doors, you felt hands grab you back. Jay was sneering at you. “Mute and blind, huh?” His grip on your sweater tightened. “You’re like a less fuckable Helen Keller.”

“Jesus.” Jake had sidled over to Jay and was looking at him with annoyance. “Leave her alone, Jay. Hasn’t it gotten old by now?”

Jay let go of your sweater, but his eyes still smoldered. “Didn’t see you wearing a cape.”

Jake crossed his arms. “Huh?”

“Look,” Jay said, shoving his bejeweled hands into his pockets, “I just didn’t know you still liked to stick your dick in crazy. That’s cool. I actually have a few exes you could hit u-,”

“I don’t have to want to fuck a girl to know when you’re being shitty to her for no reason,” Jake said, and his eyes rested on your face. You hated how gentle his gaze was. You couldn’t trust it. 

Jay developed a sly little smirk. “So you don’t want to fuck her?”

“No way,” Jake said hastily.  His gaze snapped to your face and he laughed nervously, scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, you know, not in like, a bad way, just that, like…”

You’d rather have Jay call you a frigid whore for ten hours than hear anymore of this. When you tried to push past Jay to go to your dorm room, he grabbed your shoulders so harshly that the glass jar in your hand went flying. It shattered on the floor in the middle of the hallway, and bright red splatters of smoothie splattered onto the walls like a crude Jackson Pollock painting. 

You heard laughter behind you, and you pulled yourself away from Jay. He let you go, surprisingly. Sinking to your knees, you used your bare hands to pluck the worst shards of glass from the linoleum. “Leave it,” a voice whispered, and when you turned you saw Jake shaking his head. “Someone else will clean it up. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Someone might step on the glass,” you said quietly, still crouched on the floor. 

“Oh, boo-hoo, someone might step on the glass,” Jay said derisively. 

“Fuck’s sake, shut up,” Jake muttered. He gently pulled the glass out of your hands and set it on the floor. “I’ll go get a janitor, okay?”

“What do you want?” you whispered.

Jake scrunched his nose in confusion. “What?”

You shook your head. “Never mind.” 

“Hey,” Jake said softly. Belatedly, you realized that he had crouched to your level. “Tomorrow, Jay said he’s gonna visit Isa at the library. Do you want me to come along, to be kind of a buffer? I know he’s a dick to you.”

“Do whatever you want.” 

Jake just chuckled. “You’re not the friendliest, are you?”

You shrugged.

“I probably deserve it,” Jake said with a smile so good-natured, you almost smiled too. Thankfully, you caught a hold of yourself and stood upright. This wasn’t the first time that Jake had extended a modicum of kindness towards you. Two weeks ago, when Jay had “accidentally” spilled his energy drink all over your sweater, Jake had fished money out of his pocket and tucked it into your hand before catching up to Jay. Since then, Jake had been hanging around Jay more than Sunghoon did. You figured that Sunghoon was busy, or maybe they didn’t like each other anymore. Who knew? Who cared?

Jay sniffed. “So what?” he said, looking you up and down. “You only pull the selective mutism shit with me? I’m really hurt.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and walked away with your head bent, so you didn’t have to see the people who were invariably staring at you. Normally, Jay didn’t bother you in front of other people, just in crowded hallways, when he caught you going in-between classes, or in the library. 

As you were doing your schoolwork, a question began to form in your head, making itself wide, unavoidable, and encompassing. Why didn’t Jay just meet Isa in her dorm tomorrow? Why go to the library when she’ll be busy? He couldn’t even harass you in front of her, or at least as overtly as he normally did, so what was the point? 

That was always the question with Jay: what was the point?

–

After your classes on Wednesday was your job at the library. As you walked over to the main desk to check your tasks for the day, you spotted Jake, Jay, and Isa all talking. So Jake had shown up anyways. They were huddled by the desk, as though they were all co-conspirators. You noticed that Isa was wearing a black pleated skirt with a baggy t-shirt, a stark difference from her usual, more preppy style. As you approached, Isa turned to you and smiled.

“Hey,” she said, waving you towards her. You walked over to the desk, where she made a space for you to stand. You awkwardly positioned yourself between Isa and Jake, trying to avoid Jay’s eyes. “Let’s see. Today, we’re on shelving duty, we have to catalogue the newest shipment of books-,” Isa nodded at a sizable stack of pristine books, “and we have to load them into the online filing system.”

You nodded your understanding and grabbed the book list from the top of the book pile. 

“Hey,” Jake said. He grinned at you, his shaggy hair getting in his eyes. He flicked it out with the casual, unselfconscious ease of a surfer who had spent all morning riding waves. 

“Hi,” you said quietly. Jay was being unusually quiet, his arm slung around Isa’s shoulders. He looked directly at her, ignoring you for once. How lovely.

“So, uh…” Jake scratched the nape of his neck again. “ Yesterday, I noticed you had that smoothie…looked pretty good.”

“It was,” you replied, and Jake laughed a little. 

“Where’d you get it from? There aren’t any smoothie places on campus.”

“There is,” you said, pointing west. “Stopkewich has one.”

“Oh, damn. I had no clue. I don’t really go to Stopkewich that much.”

“You should go sometime,” Jay piped up, his voice as arrogant and snarky as usual. “There’s plenty of girls with daddy issues who’d let you do all sorts of weird, depraved shit to them.”

“You would know,” Jake retorted, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

Isa gasped. “Oh, wow. Jake, she’s actually smiling.” When the grin dropped off of your face, Isa pouted. “Aw, no. Your smile was actually so pretty. Wasn’t it, Jay?”

Jay looked at you and pursed his lips. “Yours is prettier, Isa,” he said, staring directly at you. You felt something stir in you, some foreign emotion, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was.

Isa smacked Jay playfully on his chest. “Don’t pit us girls against each other,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I’m a girl’s girl, you know.”

You turned away from them and started to go around the desk. “I’ll start loading these into the computer now,” you said quietly. 

Jake reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey, wait,” he said, lowering his voice. “Did you want an invite to the party on Friday? The one at Yeonjun’s?”

You stared at his hand. “Why would I want one?”

Jake hesitated before letting go of you, shoving his hand into his pocket.  “I dunno. So you can go and maybe have fun?”

“She doesn’t have fun,” Jay said. So much venom leaked into his voice that even Isa looked caught off guard. His eyes were still trained on you. “She just sits inside all the time, doing her homework, knitting scarves, listening to fucking Mazzy Star.”

“What’s wrong with Mazzy Star?” Isa asked.

“Whiny, plebeian indie shit,” Jay said disdainfully, picking up one of the books on the desk with his spare hand before setting it down.

Isa pouted again. “I like Mazzy Star.”

Jay didn’t even look at her. “Great.”

Jake turned back to look at you. “Just think about it, okay? I can give you a formal invite. I know you aren’t the party type. I’m not really, either. Haven’t been for a while.”

You hesitated before saying, “I’ll think about it.” You turned your back to them and set about cataloging the new books, hefting the pile in your arms. You didn’t have to look behind you to know that Jay’s gaze was burning a hole in your back.

–

Later that night, you received a text from Isa as you lounged in bed knitting. Normally, you two only corresponded to discuss your job, so this was a surprise. You set down your needle and yarn and unlocked your phone. 

“could u come to the library rq?” she had texted. It reeked. What could possibly be happening there that would require your presence. As you were putting your phone back down, you got another text. 

“it’s jay” followed by “he’s acting really weird rn…”

Right. Isa thought that you and Jay were somehow friends, and she was probably too shy to ask Jake for help. So her boyfriend finally reared his ugly head, and now she was calling on you for help. Clearly, she couldn’t be in that much trouble if she could text you.

You shrugged a jacket over your nightgown, tugged your shoes on, pocketed a Swiss Army knife, and headed outside. You had no intentions of hurting anyone, but it made you feel sort of cool.

It was raining heavily, a prelude to the oncoming storm. You ran across campus with your hood up and headed to the library. It was its own building, nearly as big as one of the dorm buildings, which is why stocking the shelves was a two-person job. You pulled your keys from your pocket, opened the doors, and stepped inside.

Your shoes squelched on the welcome mat, so you took them off along with your wet socks. Isa hadn’t said what part of the library she was in. It was a tall, distinguished three story building - one floor for non-fiction books, one floor for fiction, and one floor with a little student-run cafe and a sprawling arrangement of tables and computers. You didn’t text her, in case she had covertly sent the message. She might actually be in trouble, and then where would you be? 

Your Swiss Army knife burnt a hole into your pocket as you walked around the dark library. The rain drummed on the windows, making it difficult to hear anything. The only light came from the moonlight streaming through the skylight and the lamps affixed to every wall that turned on automatically after 8 pm. 

Soon, you heard a strange noise coming from one of the aisles. Straining over the pitter-patter echoing from outside, you followed the noise to the back of the library.

You shoved your hand into your pocket and approached cautiously, moving lightly so as not to alert Jay. When you approached the aisle from whence the noise originated, you only peeked your head. You were promptly greeted with the sight of Isa and Jay, but not in any way you could have imagined.

Isa was on her knees, her head in between Jay’s legs. His pants pooled around his ankles, and his long, thin fingers were threaded through her red hair. The silver rings adorning his hands caught the moonlight and reflected it, so it looked like glittering teardrops through her long locks. Jay lazily bobbed her head back and forth, controlling the pace. The moonlight created a chiaroscuro effect on them both, painting Jay in darkness. 

He stared straight at you with an unreadable expression. His teeth were gritted, and his lips were parted slightly.  He made Isa go agonizingly slow, and she made an awful choking sound at the back of her throat as she took him in her mouth. 

You knew you should walk away, but something about it was so absurd that it was hard to look away. You had come here, partially expecting a crude prank from Jay, partially expecting Isa to surprise you with a makeover, and partially expecting Isa to join Jay in tormenting you, but not this. 

Jay’s eyes were cold and sharp as he parted his lips, licked them, then said, “Fuck, that’s so good.” He jerked her head forward onto his length, tugging at her hair roughly, and she choked again. You winced at the violent sound.

Why wouldn’t he look away? It was like he expected something from you, and you didn’t want to know what it was.

You left without another word, rubbing your eyes as you stepped away from the garish scene. He didn’t move, and Isa didn’t hear you. You shoved your socks and shoes back on and ran back out of the library, back into the spray. 

As you sprinted through the cold chill, the water seeping into your skin, you wondered why you had even shown up. How uncharacteristic of you, to get involved in the affairs of others. Why didn’t you just tell Isa that you would help her the next day? Why had you come? 

And why had Isa, or Jay, known that you would come?

When you got into bed, you tried to sleep, but the image of Isa on her knees and Jay’s eyes boring into your own wouldn’t leave your head. You tossed and turned, and that same unfamiliar feeling began to eat at your viscera. Gastric acid spilling out of your stomach, scorching your skin. 

Heat licking you in your most sensitive area.

– 

When you came into the library the next afternoon, Isa looked at you and smiled as usual. “Hey,” she said brightly. “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” 

You shook your head and sat down beside her; on Thursdays, you went through the list of those with late fees and sent them emails through the computer on the library’s main desk. “You?”

Isa gave you a mischievous look. “Mm…you could say someone kept me up last night. But I don’t kiss and tell.”

So she really had no clue. Meaning that either Jay had texted you through her phone so you could witness her giving him a blowjob, or you had made the entire thing up. 

“Um, Isa,” you said awkwardly. “Is it true that on iPhones, if you text someone Congratulations, your screen lights up with confetti? I have an Android, so…”

Isa nodded. “Yeah, it’s so cool!”

“Can you send me a text? I wanna see it.”

She pulled out her phone and quickly tapped out a text. Her screen showed that she hadn’t sent a text message to you since last week. You chose to interpret this as proof of the events of last night being completely fabricated, the result of an overactive imagination, a lack of social interaction, and sexual frustration.

“So cute,” you said as the confetti popped up on the screen. You figured you should say something.

“Isn’t it?” Isa said, sending more words. “There’s one for birthdays, and New Year’s Eve…”

As she spoke, you saw Jake and Jay walking towards you. Jay’s lips were screwed into a self-satisfied smirk, and Jake trailed him. Jay’s neck was littered with red and purple bruises, so you figured that that was why Isa was wearing a white turtleneck today. 

Isa blushed as soon as she saw Jay, and she leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. Jay’s smirk faltered as she did so, and he glanced between you and Isa. 

“You didn’t say anything?” he blurted out.

Isa frowned. “Say what?”

Jay gaped at you.  “Crazy fucking freak,” he muttered, and Isa lurched back as though she had been the one insulted. 

“Don’t be so mean,” she chided, and you felt a sudden warmth in your heart towards Isa. 

“Quit taking your shit out on her,” Jake added.

Jay looked at Jake and Isa, his head whipping around. He laughed once before stalking out of the library, creating a path through all of the students who jumped out of the way to avoid him. 

“I’m worried about him,” Isa said worriedly. “He’s been acting so strangely…”

Jake sighed and rested his hands on the desk. “Don’t know. He’s going through some stuff with his parents, so he’s been acting weirdly. He’s like this at the dorm, too. Him and Riki got into it the other night and now Riki is sleeping at Fawcett with some friend of his. It’s such a mess.”

“Sounds like a mess,” Isa said, folding her hands together and resting her head on them. “Poor Jay. I wish he would just talk to me. He must be hurting a lot.”

Christ.

–

After your shift at the library, you decided to eat at the Fawcett restaurant. Why not? The weather was disgusting, and you needed something substantial, something warm. You ordered something, some rice dish, and you listlessly ate  alone at one of the heavy oaken tables in the dining hall. As you ate, someone you don’t recognize slid into the seat in front of you. He had a shaved eyebrow, calculating eyes, and short black hair with blond highlights. 

“You’re her, right?” He said your name the same snide way that Jay always says it. You nodded. “I’m Riki. Riki Nishimura,” he said, holding out his hand. Unlike Jay, his hand was free from any jewelry. You stared at it, unsure of what his game was. He was the only freshman in the Karma Club, meaning that his hazing must have been particularly brutal. Even though he was young, in the same year as you, he was a Karma Club member just like the rest. 

Riki pulled his hand away and smiled at you wryly. “Jay was right about you. You really are cold.”

Jay talked about you? You didn’t think you existed to anyone outside of your direct interactions with them. How odd.

“Look,” Riki continued, zipping his sweater up as he spoke, “I just wanted to warn you.”

“About?”

Riki glanced around furtively, then stared at you. He craned his head towards you, so you leaned in as well. “He’s gotten worse recently,” Riki said in a low voice. “So they tell me, anyways. I’m a new punch, so I never got to see him ‘normal’.” He made quotation marks in the air when he said normal. “They say he was bad, but never this bad, and he won’t talk to anyone. Not even Heeseung, and they’ve been friends since they were kids.” Riki had developed eyebags, his hair was messy, and he played with his fingers as he spoke. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

Riki sighed, looking away from you. “I figure I owe it to you, I don’t know. For whatever reason, Jay hates you. No one can even understand why he dislikes you so much, but…he just keeps talking about you, saying weird shit, so I really think he might do something just…stupid, and dumb, and I don’t want that on my conscience. If he does do something… bad.”

He already has, but judging by Riki’s expression, you figured that he meant something much worse. “What should I do?”

Riki shrugged. “Don’t know. Watch out, I guess?”

“Thanks,” you said, shoveling in another bite of food. 

Riki watched you eat for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Don’t swing first.”

“What?”

“No matter what you do,” Riki said, getting out of his seat with surprising grace, “don’t buy into his bullshit. You never do anyways, and I think that that’s why he hates you so much. Everyone else indulges his dumbass ‘I’m so hard’ act…even we do, but you don’t.”

You took in his words carefully. “Thanks,” you said again, but you meant it that time.

“No problem,” Riki said. “One last thing.”

You took another bite of food and looked into his eyes. 

“If you want to come to Yeonjun’s party this Friday,” Riki said, leaning in once more (did all the Karma Club members have such little regard for personal space?), “the password is ‘fate’ to get in. It’s like an unofficial KC party. I’ll be there, so will Jake.”

Fate. What an interesting concept. “Party during a storm?”

“No school,” Riki said simply. “And, you know, it’ll be cool. I’m just gonna head there earlier with Sunghoon, but Jake is planning some stupid way to get there.”

“I’ll bet.”

Riki snorted. “You really should come. Maybe things will get interesting.”

“I hope not.”

He leaned away from you and fixed his hair. “I don’t think you’ll get a choice.”

–

After you did your homework, you took a nap and dreamt about the scarf. 

When you had been naive enough to linger outside, when Jay hadn’t yet made harassing you a daily habit, you had liked to knit outside. It was still September, and the weather was mild. You sat on the bleachers after your shift at the library and brought your yarn out with you. 

As you knitted, you heard footsteps behind you, crunching on the grass. Now, you could recognize those sure, solid footsteps from a mile away, but at the time you hadn’t. Generally, people didn’t approach you, so it hadn’t registered that someone was coming towards you.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Jay hadn’t waited for an answer, plucking the scarf out of your hands just as you had finished another row.  The skein of yarn tumbled to the grass and rolled at his feet. “Is it for someone?”

You didn’t reply, your lips pursed into a thin line. “Right,” Jay had said, examining the scarf, “no one wants you, that’s right. No one wants a buzzkill that sits around, doing fuckall. Have you tried actually living? Experiencing things? Anything except wasting fucking oxygen?”

You had looked all over for that specific colour, and now he was sullying your scarf with his filthy touch. 

In real life, he had used your scissors and cut the scarf free from the yarn and walked away, laughing. But in your dream, the yarn tumbled away from you both. Winding itself around the trees, yarn strewn along the branches, choking the leaves.

You woke up covered in sweat to the sound of knocking on your door. Your bedside clock said that it was 11:00 pm. Some fucking nap.

You opened your door just a crack, trying to see what lunatic it could be. Jay stood in the hallway, grimacing at you. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and his skin was beginning to take on a sickly pallor. The stark overhead lighting did him no favours, only highlighting his worsening appearance. 

 He grabbed you by your sweater’s sleeve and pulled you out so quickly you barely registered it. “Come along,” he said, dragging you down the hallway. “We’re going to take a little trip, you and me.”

Fighting him was futile, so you allowed yourself to be pulled away. As usual, everyone in Facwett was hanging out in someone else’s dorm, so no one saw you and Jay. He pushed the door open with one hand, the other holding onto your arm. 

Jay plunged the two of you into the rain. The deluge chilled you to the bone, and the sky was clotted with menacing nimbostratus clouds. Despite the darkness, you knew where he was taking you. It was a path you had trodden many times, the way to the Sad U library.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” Jay asked, his voice carrying over the steady rainfall. “When you saw me and Isa?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t fucking know. You could have asked questions? You could have had an actual reaction? Why’d you just stare like a freak?”

“Why’d you do it?” That was the closest you had ever come to defying him in any way, and it even surprised you. 

“Don’t fucking worry about why I did it,” he replied. Lightning flashed, and for a brief moment you could see Jay clearly. His eyebrow piercing glinted, and his eyes were completely black. “What are you looking at?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued tugging you along the grass. 

Jay hauled you up the stone steps and into the library. You didn’t know how he had gotten the doors open without a set of spare keys, until you remembered that he could have easily filched them from Isa. Maybe she gave them to him. Once you were inside, he let go of you. The two of you left large, wet puddles everywhere you stepped.  “Upstairs,” he barked, pointing at the glass staircase. “We’re going to the roof.”

Treading lightly, for your shoes were wet, you walked up all three floors. The entrance to the roof was located in a small supply closet on the leftmost side of the area. You obediently walked towards the closet, flicking the light on to find the hatch. With shaking hands, you pulled down the hatch, which unfurled the ladder leading up to the roof. “Ladies first,” Jay said, so you hiked your skirt up with one hand and climbed with the other. 

Once you got onto the roof,  you lingered by the entrance, underneath the small awning. Jay crawled up, shut the door, and jerked you into the open. You hadn’t noticed the intensity of the rain, so shocked you had been by Jay’s intrusion, but it was terrible. It beat at your face with the intensity of hail, and from just a few seconds you were already soaked. If you had brought your phone outside, it would have been destroyed, 

Jay’s hands were on you again, pulling you close to him. His eyes were wild- even in the darkness, they flashed with a primal ferocity. “We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice loud and raggedy. The rain drowned out noise, so he leaned even closer to your ear.

“What’s the game?”

“The game,” he said, and his fingers dug into your arms, “is very simple. You give me reasons why I shouldn’t push your prude ass off the roof, and I’ll decide if they’re good enough.”

You pulled away from him to assess his expression, to see if he was joking. Nothing on his grim face suggested humour. “You’ll go to jail,” you said. 

“Jail? I can’t go to jail,” Jay said, his breath unbearably hot on your ear. “None of us can. So come on, give it a shot.”

Lily’s words rang in your head: “They straight up tried to murder a girl in the bathroom.” The library was three stories off of the ground. If he threw you off the roof, it was unlikely that you would die from the impact. It was more probable that you would be grievously injured. Paralyzed, brain damage, a slow death from your wounds, a slow death either way. Jay was the only person stopping you from reaching an infinite unknown. He held your life in his hands. 

You felt your lip tremble before you spoke. “No.”

“What?”

“No,” you said, raising your voice for the first time in ages. “I won’t beg you for anything.”

Your life flashed before your eyes in a dismal montage. Your childhood, lonely and miserable, high school a near mirror image. A life marred by solitude, harshness, and alienation, with the promise of more of the same to come. 

Jay snapped you out of your reverie with another hard shake. “What are you, fucking suicidal? You’re really ruining any potential enjoyment I could be getting out of this, you know.”

The only friends you had ever had, a group of girls in middle school, had teased you and mocked you behind your back, then to your face. Thrift shop clothes, a shy demeanor, and an inability to read the room had marked you as other long ago. An other, someone unlovable, someone born wrong, a bird with a supernumerary wing. Even if you ducked your head down, didn’t provoke anyone, the scent clung to you.

“Try. Come on. Convince me. Try!” Jay yelled now, his voice carrying over the torrent. 

Getting picked last, asked out as a joke, your only “date” having been cutting worms apart with a kid back in the second grade. You were a complete virgin. Hell, you had never even had your first kiss.

“Do something!”

Your sleeves hung from how much water they had soaked up, and your hands were slippery. You cupped Jay’s cheeks, leaned in, and kissed him gently on the lips. It was just a peck, but in your books it counted. Your hands fell away from his face, lingering at your sides.

When you pulled away, Jay was staring at you with the same unreadable expression he had had yesterday night. “I’ve never had my first kiss,” you explained, “So…” Feeling embarrassed, you looked towards the edge of the roof. From here, you could see the four separate dorms and the main campus buildings, as well as the bustling city that housed Sad U. You hadn’t explored it much, and now you never would. Tumble to the bottom, hope for death on impact. 

Jay’s voice was incredulous. “So you kissed me?”

Still averting your gaze, you shrugged. “You didn’t give me a wealth of options.”

Silence hung between the two of you like a noose. The rain poured ceaselessly, completely penetrating your clothes.

“Look at me,” Jay whispered, but you were still gazing at the city below. Cars glittered on the streets, even this late at night. Where were they going? 

“I said look at me,” he said, and his hand grabbed your chin and jerked it towards his face. “And don’t look away.”

You stared into his dark eyes; you were so close now that you could smell his breath. It smelled like bourbon and cigarettes. 

“I hate you,” he said, his thumb and index finger still holding your chin in place. “It’s beyond hatred sometimes.”

“I know,” you said.

“I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re weak.”

“I know.”

“So stop making it hard for me,” Jay said, his breathing growing uneven and erratic. 

“Making what hard for you?”

“Oh, don’t fucking play dumb,” he snapped. “You’re always doing it. You’re doing it right now.”

“I don’t do anything,” you said.

“That’s your problem,” Jay said, “you never do anything. You’re always so fucking calm, and passive, and it pisses me off. You just can’t let anything get to you, right? Nothing ever matters to you. Nothing can ever hurt you, right?” He swallowed audibly.

Your eyes drifted to the entrance to the roof. Thankfully, Jay had closed it after he had followed you up. You would have hated it if water had gotten inside.

“I said, look at me,” Jay growled, so you did.

Then he jerked your chin upwards and kissed you harshly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, your chest flush against his own. Two wet bodies pressed together.

You didn’t know what to do, or how to kiss back. You tried to mimic his actions, but it was impossible to keep up with him. Jay kissed you like he was punishing you for daring to touch him. Jay’s tongue worked its way into your mouth and swirled around your own tongue, dragged itself along your teeth, shoved itself down your throat. His hands gripped you as if he thought you would tumble off of the roof on your own accord if he didn’t hold onto you. One clutched your upper back, the other hand wound its way to your waist.

Jay pulled away briefly, sucking in rapid breaths, before pressing his lips firmly against yours again. He forced you down to the ground, so that you both sank to the floor of the roof. Rain had slipped into your mouths as you had caught your breath. Saliva and rainwater dribbled out of your mouths, onto your chins. You were on your knees, being consumed by Jay. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, holding you in place. 

Thunder crashed, but Jay was relentless. You wondered if he kissed everyone like this. You wondered if he kissed Isa like this. 

Once more, he broke the kiss, panting heavily. His arms slid away from your body, leaving you with a phantom weight. Jay shakily stood up, rainwater dripping off of him as though he were one of storm clouds hovering above you. “Congratulations,” he said, “I don’t feel like killing you today.”

He left you there, looking back at him, soaked in the torrential downpour. When you touched your lips, you found that they were already starting to swell.

–

On Friday, classes were canceled because of the weather. It was for the best. You stared at the ceiling listlessly, your hands folded over your stomach. You hadn’t remembered going to the communal showers, or getting dressed in a nightgown, but you had done it. Your throat was sore and you were sneezing on and off. 

The sound of an incoming text broke the silence, and you reached over to your nightstand to read it. It was Isa, asking you to come over to her dorm room. You weren’t in the mood, so you texted her that you were sick. It wasn’t a lie either; pressure was building behind your skull, and you just wanted to sleep. 

Unfortunately, no one at Sad U knew how to take a hint. Ten minutes later, you heard timid rapping at your door. You groaned, shuffled to your feet, and opened the door. 

Isa was standing outside, wearing a worn Judas Priest t-shirt with purple and pink bear pajama pants. Her face was free from makeup, and her fiery hair was tugged into a loose bun. “You look bad,” she said, then winced. “Sorry.”

“I’m sick.”

“I thought you were lying just to get rid of me,” she said sheepishly. “I’ll come back some other time.”

You shook your head and beckoned her inside. All of a sudden, you didn’t want to be alone right now.  You figured you might as well get this over with now, anyways. You sat down on your bed and patted the space next to you.

Isa sat down and looked around your room, trying to find something to compliment. “It’s very…cozy in here. It’s very you,” she said finally, turning to face you.

“Thank you,” you said, stretching out your neck. “What’s up?”

Isa sighed and tugged at the hem of Jay’s shirt. “It’s Jay,” she said finally. Of course. It was always Jay. “No one’s seen him since last night.”

“Maybe he’s on campus somewhere, like Ri-,”

“No, no one has seen him.” Isa screwed her face up in frustration. “He just disappeared.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Isa said bitterly. “Oh. So, I was wondering…if you had, I dunno, seen him? I know that you guys…know each other, so I was wondering if maybe he had said something.”

“No,” you said immediately. “No, he didn’t.” What could you say? Yeah, your pseudo-boyfriend threatened to kill me, we made out on the rooftop, and then he disappeared?

“Oh, okay,” Isa said, her voice faltering. She sniffled, but before you could make a feeble attempt at comforting her, she smiled. “Gosh. It’s such an ugly day, and all my friends are over at Stoker right now with their boyfriends. I’d go over there, but the rain is so bad…”

It was clear that Isa wanted someone to hang around, so maybe you could help each other. Just once. “I saved some movies on my laptop before the storm, if you wanted to, you know…”

Isa wiped her eyes. “What? You want to watch a movie with me?”

What were you doing? “If you want.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, sure, what movies?”

“Uh, Oldboy and Lady Vengeance…”

Isa brightened and clapped her hands. “Oh, no way. I loved Lady Vengeance. I haven’t seen Oldboy, though.”

You smiled slowly. “I haven’t seen either of them. Which should we watch first?”

“Oldboy came out first, I think,” Isa said, taking her hair out of her bun and fluffing it out. “So we should watch that…then Lady Vengeance.”

Watching a movie with someone had seemed tedious to you, an unneeded distraction. Why would you want to hear someone else talk while you were trying to focus? But for some reason, Isa pointing at your small laptop screen, making idle comments, and at one point going on a snack run and coming back with a small bounty of treats was actually enjoyable. The storm wailed outside, pounding at your window.

At one point, halfway through Lady Vengeance, Isa put her head on your shoulder. Awkwardly, you patted her smooth hair and she nuzzled into you. 

So this was what it was like to have a friend. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, “are you going to the party at Yeonjun’s?”

Isa nodded, her cheek rubbing against your shoulder. “I think I might, yeah. Yeah, my friends have been trying to get invited, but it’s pretty hard. And apparently there’s like a list of invitees, so you can’t just…go. Jay was supposed to take me, but…” her voice trailed off.

“I got invited. Formally,” you said, “so maybe we could go together?”

Isa lifted her cheek off of your shoulder so she could look at you directly, a smile slowly spreading across her pretty face. “Really?” 

“Yeah, and…” you swallowed thickly. “You could maybe…help me get ready?”

The sheer ferocity of the squeal that Isa had emitted could have powered the school in case the bad weather wrecked the back-up generators. “I’ll call Jake so he can pick us up,” Isa said, pulling her phone out. “He’s staying behind, so we can meet him in a few hours…”

“He’ll drive us?”

Isa looked at you slyly. “Not quite.”

–

“It’s perfectly safe,” Jake reassured you. He was behind the wheel of a golf cart, his teeth gleaming in the dark. had parked outside of Fawcett, positioned under a large tree to evade the worst of the rain. 

“Won’t the rain wreck the cart?” you asked. At Isa’s behest, you were wearing a plastic poncho that covered you from head to toe, speaking through a small mouth flap. She had bought them in anticipation for the awful weather, and she would not have you wreck the makeup she had meticulously painted on your face. The dress you were wearing was one she had chosen from your closet. She had wanted to do raw hem the dress to make it look “grunge”, but Jake had pounded on your door, yelling for you guys to get out. So she had hurried you out, and you hadn’t even had the chance to grab your phone. Strange how eager she was to please him, even though they seemed to be on equal footing. 

Jake waved away your concerns. “It’ll make it to Yeonjun’s. Probably.” He could scarcely be heard amidst the thunder crashing in the distance. 

“How come you didn’t leave earlier? I heard the others went to Yeonjun’s a few hours earlier,” Isa said, adjusting her own poncho.

Jake hesitated, then whispered, “I thought Jay would come back. Wanted to be at Stoker in case he showed.”

Isa’s face crumpled for a few seconds, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Come on,” she yelled, grabbing your hand and leading you into the golf cart. “Aw, man, my ass is wet.”

“That’s a hurricane party for you,” Jake said. With a whoop, he started the golf cart and sped away from Fawcett.

The main entrance to Sad U was closed off by a large, ostentatious black gate, but there were other ways to get off campus. Namely, there was a winding path that led from the warehouse into the woods surrounding the university that led outside. Jake maneuvered the golf cart through the powerful winds, hollering as he did so. 

“You drive like shit,” Isa screamed, clinging to you. 

“You try driving a golf cart through a hurricane,” Jake yelled, entering the forest. There was a brief reprieve from the winds, but branches, twigs, and pebbles still whipped around your head. You had to dodge constantly to avoid a barrage of debris. 

Somehow, Jake had wheeled the golf cart onto a side road. “Do you know where you’re going?” Isa asked warily.

“Yeah,” Jake said, “obviously. I’ve been to Yeonjun’s a bunch of times.”

“Are you sure?” The golf cart squeaked miserably as it rumbled down the concrete. 

“Yes, I’m sure! Get off my ass!”

“We’re in a golf cart in a Category 5 hurricane, someone needs to be on your ass.”

“This isn’t even a Category 2 hurricane. This is nothing. You know what we get in Australia? We get willy-willies. You wouldn’t know shit about that, would you?”

You started laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had done so, but it felt amazing. Clutching your stomach, you rested your head on Isa’s shoulder. Isa looked at you, then glanced at Jake, and they joined in too. A merry band of lunatics, cackling in the middle of a storm.

“We’re so fucked, Wednesday Addams is laughing,” Jake said, letting out a wheezing laugh. 

“It’s a good omen,” Isa suggested, “like a black cat walking under ladders.”

“13 mirrors in a funhouse breaking,” you said, unable to stop giggling. Maybe you were delirious. 

Jake snickered and continued driving. The storm hadn’t let up, but he managed to navigate the golf cart onto the sidewalk of a residential area - quite the upscale neighborhood at that. The houses looked more like dorm buildings with how large and decadent they were. 

“I thought it’d be a gated community,” Isa said, still holding onto you. 

“Yeonjun’s going through this weird Twitter socialist phase,” Jake said, “so he’s like, ‘gated communities are for the bourgeoise’, but he owns a shit ton of Rick.”

You glanced at Isa. “Rick?”

“Rick Owens,” she explained.

Just then, you heard a distinct gurgling noise coming from the back of the golf cart. “You guys hear that?” 

“I can’t hear anything in this weather,” Isa said, and as the words left her mouth the golf cart made a loud hissing noise. 

“Get out!” Jake yelled. “The battery is waterlogged!” Isa helped to pull you out of the cart, and the three of you watched the golf cart smoke before the rain snuffed any remaining heat. 

“Jake,” Isa began, her words punctuated by a thunder-clap, “why would you even take a golf cart to Yeonjun’s in the middle of a storm?”

Jake spread his arms angrily, but all he could offer was a meager, “The vibes?”

“The vibes,” she said, exasperated. “The vibes.” 

“How far is Yeonjun’s?” you asked, still wired from the strange euphoria you had felt earlier.

Jake shrugged, running his hands through his wet locks. “Like…five minutes away?”

“We should run,” you suggested. “What else can we do?” 

Jake opened his mouth, but with another loud thunderclap, he turned on his heel and started sprinting. Expletives spilled out of his mouth as quickly as he moved. Isa took your hand and you ran in a madcap sprint to Yeonjun’s house. It was almost surreal; every minute, there was a bright flash of lightning, and you could see everything in complete clarity. 

Your lower half was completely wet, you were holding hands with the “girlfriend” of the guy who had tormented you for months, and you were running towards a party with some of the most obnoxious people at your university, including his best friend. 

“Fate,” you murmured.

“What?” Isa yelled, pulling her poncho tightly around herself. 

“Fate,” you said, a little louder.

“Yeah, that’s the password,” Jake said, running a little ahead of you and Isa. “Who told you?”

“Riki.”

Isa let out a slight laugh. “You know Riki, too? You don’t tell me anything.”

You laughed, too. A few minutes later, you were in front of Yeonjun’s sprawling mansion. From what you could tell, it was around three stories. Lights shone from all of the windows besides the ones on the highest floor.  No cars in the driveway, but the ten car garage probably fit all of them neatly. The wind could batter this fortress all it wanted, but the brick and stucco building would probably hold up in a flood. You didn’t want to know how someone who had graduated university not two years prior had been able to afford such a nice place. He was an ex-Karma Club member- the president, in fact - so Lord knows what he was capable of. 

You could hear loud trap music with rapid 808s playing from inside, accompanied by frenzied screams. The yard, which was currently being pummeled by a torrent of water, was understandably empty as well. Jake walked up to the door and rapped three quick knocks using the brass knocker. Someone opened it, a young man with a cat-like smile. He looked at Jake, then at you and Isa.

“Password?” 

Jake groaned. “Jungwon, you little shit. Don’t be annoying.”

“That’s crazy,” Jungwon said, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his bright orange hoodie. “None of those words sounded like the password.”

Jake groaned again, leaned in, and whispered the password into Jungwon’s ear. 

“Enter,” Jungwon said, gesturing Jake inside with a flourish. Jake gave Jungwon the finger and walked inside, calling, “I’ll be in the living room” behind his shoulder. 

Isa walked up next. She gave Jungwon a little kiss on the cheek and said the password. She turned towards you and pointed at the right, presumably at the living room. Then she disappeared inside as well, already taking off her poncho. 

Jungwon looked at you expectantly, so you walked down the stone path, up the steps, and stood in the doorway. “Fate,” you said. 

Jungwon nodded at you, jutting his bottom lip out slightly. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said appreciatively. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Anything good?”

You both stared at each other blankly. “You’d better get inside,” Jungwon said, gesturing you in. “In, in. It’s raining cats and dogs and Jakes. Get it? Because he’s an animal.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you heard Jake call from up the stairs and Jungwon wandered over to him, still laughing. Your eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

The scene was something out of a music video. To your right was a winding, wooden staircase with ornate iron balusters. Clusters of people crowded on it, passing around a tired joint or just talking. To your left, you could see a small room that had been stripped of its furniture so people could have space to dance. Directly beside it was a small bar, replete with various bottles of alcohol along with a small cooler that rested on the counter. Riki was standing near the bar, and when he caught your eyes he stalked over to you.

Riki grinned at you as you peeled off your sopping wet poncho and jacket, resting them on a nearby coat hook. “You came,” he said quietly. 

“I did,” you said.

He walked back to the bar, and after a moment’s hesitation you followed him. “Do you drink?” he asked, pawing through the open cooler. 

“Not often,” you said, leaning against the counter, careful to avoid touching an odd puddle of liquid. 

“Didn’t think so,” Riki said. He pulled a blue Calypso lemonade out of the cooler and cracked it open, handing it to you. You received it reluctantly, swirling the liquid around. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spike it. That’s more of a Sunoo thing.”

You took a small, tentative sip. “Is it?

“Nothing serious,” Riki said, gulping his own Monster and wiping his mouth. “Just know that if you ever see a group of people mysteriously getting the shits at once, it’s Sunoo.”

“Is he here?”

“Yeah. Why do you think they have me watching the drinks? When he gets bored at a party he gets antsy.”

“Hm.” You continued drinking and surveyed the area. It was almost claustrophobic, seeing so many people dancing and writhing around. Thanks to Isa, you didn’t stand out, although you wondered if anyone would have even cared. 

Riki nudged your arm with his elbow lightly. “First party?” 

You nodded, clutching your small glass bottle like a lifeline. “A lot of people.”

Riki snorted. “Nah, wait till you see upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Riki said, jerking his thumb towards the steps. “That’s where the living room is.”

You gaped at him, glancing at the large, open space beside you two. “That isn’t the living room?”

A laugh escaped Riki’s lips and he nudged you again. “This is so fun. Come on.” Riki abandoned his post at the bar and jostled you. You got to your feet and looked at him warily. As he pushed you up the stairs, helping you wind past the dazed partygoers sitting on the steps, he said, “You’re wet.”

“Jake drove us here in a golf cart.”

Riki laughed loudly, his voice echoing over the music coming from upstairs. “He was serious about that? What the fuck? We could have driven you guys in Yeonjun’s all-terrain truck.”

You got to the top of the steps and pulled at your wet dress. “He said he did it for the-,”

“Vibes,” Riki finished, swallowing the last of his Monster. He crushed the can and tossed it on the floor, where it clattered unceremoniously. “He’s an idiot sometimes.”

“So I’m learning,” you said. 

The red LED lights blaring from the expansive living room on the far left painted Riki’s face with a devilish glow. He put his arm around your shoulder and laughed again. “We should be friends. You’re funny.”

“You’d be my first one,” you said, walking towards the party with some apprehension.

“Your first? What about Jay?” Riki asked innocently. “I thought you guys were best friends.” You glared at him and he snickered. 

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Wait,” you said, tugging on his sleeve. 

“What?”

You looked at the throng of people dancing freely. You could see Isa’s flowing mass of red hair in the middle of the room, and Jungwon’s bright orange hoodie led you to Jake doing some trendy little dance. You could see the other members of the Karma Club interspersed throughout the room - Sunghoon and Sunoo were in a corner, half-dancing and half gossiping. You didn’t see Heeseung, or anyone who matched his description. Everyone there, regardless of what they were doing, looked like they were having fun.  They were shouting the lyrics to a song you didn’t know. 

“I can’t dance,” you said finally.

Riki stared at you. “You think any of them can dance? Look at Jake.”

“Well, I-,”

Riki put both of his hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “You need to stop thinking.”

“Stop thinking?”

“Yes. Stop thinking. Just do what feels right.”

“I won’t know any songs.”

“Doesn’t matter. Every song has a beat, you just follow it.”

“But …”

“I’m about done with this conversation,” Riki said, and he pulled you inside of the living room. Someone with lanky hair was manning a turntable, holding up his red solo cup as he fiddled with dials. Bodies were pressed together, and the room smelled like sweat and weed and perfume.

Riki started to move to the beat, so you decided to follow him, still holding your Calypso. He looked at you and laughed. “Just like that,” he said. The two of you danced at the edge of the party together, and it was comforting realizing that no one was paying attention. You closed your eyes and tried to feel the beat; the music was so loud that the floors seemed to reverberate. 

You heard someone call your name, and when you opened your eyes you saw Isa running towards you. Her smile was lopsided and she was laughing a little too hard. “I’m about to start rolling,” she said giddily. “Took like 150 mg. Come dance!”

Isa suddenly possessed the strength of an ox, because she was able to yank you into the center of the room. 

Jake yelled your name and hit a dance move you didn’t recognize. You copied him, the same way you did Riki. “Aye,” Jake said approvingly, “Wednesday’s got moves.”

“I taught her everything she knows,” Riki said. He embraced Jake in a half-hug and Jake ruffled his hair.

“I’m gonna teach her how to twerk,” Isa said, tugging your arm. “Come here…” 

You tried to pry her hand off of you. “No, no, no…”

“Teach me, Isa,” Jake said playfully, and he dropped into a squat and rattled his bones. Isa made a retching noise and looked away. 

An unfamiliar voice gasped, and you whirled your head to see who it was.“Oh, God. Who got Jake popping his pussy?” It was a girl wearing a black beanie with a cross on it, a thin tank top, and baggy camo pants. 

Isa smiled. “Gigi!”

“Gigi” and Isa kissed each other on the cheeks. “Girl,” Gigi said, rolling her eyes, “someone gave my man an edible and said that it was only 10 mg. Tell me why he’s in the bathroom right now talking about ‘they’re after me’?”

Riki’s eyes lit up. “Heeseung is vulnerable?”

“Don’t scare him too bad,” Gigi said, but Riki was already speeding away. She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. “That boy is evil, Isa.”

“You say that like every Karma Club member isn’t insane,” Isa said, pulling her hair out of her face and whipping it backwards.

Jake finally got up and frowned, standing beside Isa. You lingered on her other side; Gigi’s sudden appearance had made you feel a bit nervous. “I’m not that bad,” Jake said with a slight pout. 

“Please.” Gigi scoffed and adjusted her beanie. “That Mina shit was pretty bad.”

For the first time since you had known him, Jake’s face was completely serious. The air had become fraught with tension, and you realized that the three of them had completely stopped dancing. 

“Oops,” she said, holding her hand up to her lips. “Did I say something?”

Isa was chewing on her bottom lip, and Jake was staring at Gigi the same way that Jay looked at other people. Like he could kill them.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Jake mumbled, looking away from Gigi. He glanced at you, then back at the ground. 

Gigi followed his gaze to you, and she gave you a clinical, detached once-over. “Who’s this?”

“This is our Wednesday,” Isa said, rubbing your shoulder. She told Gigi your name, and a hint of recognition flickered on her face. 

“Oh, that’s you,” Gigi said, nodding slowly. “I’m Giselle. Heeseung’s brought you up.”

What was there even to talk about? “Oh.”

“Based on what Heeseung said, I didn’t think you’d show up to one of these,” Gigi said coolly. 

“Jake said he’d buy me smoothies for a week if I came,” you replied drily. 

“No, I didn’t,” Jake protested, but his wide, puppy-like smile returned. “Quit lying on me.”

“No, you definitely did,” Isa said, lightly pushing him. “I heard you say it. You said you’d get me a wrap from Stoker’s caf, too.”

“Fine, fine,” Jake said, holding his hands up. “Smoothies for a week for Wednesday and a wrap for her friend Ariel.”

The song switched, some rap song you didn’t know, but Giselle shrieked, clutching Isa. “Girl, this is my song,” she screamed. “Just got some top from a stripper bitch, she from Kankakee…”

Giselle and Isa started dancing, with Giselle gesturing at Isa passionately. You looked at Jake, who moved his arms in a ridiculous, exaggerated way. You smiled and followed his movements, to his amusement. 

“You been getting close to Riki?” he asked, tousling his hair. 

“I guess,” you replied, trying to mimic a dance you had seen in a music video. “I’ve only known him for two days, though.”

Jake nodded. “He seems like he likes you.”

“He’s nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid,” Jake said, and you became aware of how close he had gotten to you. When had that happened?

“You say kid like Riki and I aren’t the same age.”

Jake stopped moving momentarily, and a shy smile spread across his face. You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, and you were thankful for the cover of darkness. “Well, you don’t seem like you’re the same age as Riki,” he said softly. “You seem a lot more…mature?”

“I don’t feel mature,” you admit and you wonder why you even said it. 

“You are,” Jake said, and you saw his hand reaching out towards you, towards your face. Before he could touch you, you felt someone push you. 

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Riki said, giggling. “You guys look like losers.” He patted your back and went over to Jake, shaking him. Jake playfully wrestled Riki, and as you looked on you swayed your hips ever-so-slightly. Now that you were a little more comfortable, you were starting to have fun.

“Okay, get it,” Gigi said. You turned and she was giving you a strange smile. Isa stretched her hand towards you, and without a moment of delay, you took it. 

Even though you didn’t know the words, even though you didn’t know anyone, you still danced.  Jake was on your right, Isa was on your left, and the six of you were in a group, letting loose. Isa let her head hang back and excitedly moved her body to the beat. Riki was a surprisingly good dancer, freestyling along with every song that came on. Jake wasn’t far behind him, either. Last week, you couldn’t have imagined yourself doing this, not with these people. 

“Let’s go,” Jake yelled before a beat drop, and Riki pushed your head down so you would headbang. You smacked his arm, a gesture you had witnessed girls do to guys. It felt good to do something normal like that, to express your familiarity with someone.

You didn’t know how long you had spent in the living room, but eventually you grew tired. You tapped Jake on the shoulder. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Shit,” Jake said apologetically. “They’re probably all occupied right now. You really need to go?”

You shook your head. “Just need to rest for a little. I’m tired.”

“Sure,” he said. “You wanna go to a bedroom?”

Resting on a soft, plush bed and nuzzling into goose-down pillows sounded like a great plan to you. You nodded your assent. As you left, Isa got a hold of your jacket’s sleeve. “You okay?”

“Not used to this many people,” you explained, and you could have sworn you heard Giselle scoff. Whatever.  Isa nodded sympathetically and gave you a long hug. You tapped her back awkwardly before pulling away. “Have fun,” you said softly. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Isa said, playfully hitting your arm before turning back around.

Jake winded his way out of the crowd with you in tow. He took you up another flight of spiral stairs, then down a hallway decorated with tasteful, if not somewhat generic, artwork. He knocked on a door at the end of the hall, and when he didn’t hear anything, he opened the door. Jake flicked the light on, surveying the room. It was a simple, spacious bedroom; the bed had a red and gold quilt, the floor was dark hardwood, and the curtains were drawn shut. “This place is so big,” Jake said admiringly. “If the apocalypse were to happen, I’d come here and just hide out.”

“You’d get looted,” you said, entering the bedroom. You took your shoes off at the door and walked over to the bed. Putting your calypso down on the nightstand, you laid down on top of the sheets. “Yeonjun won’t mind if I sleep in one of his beds?”

Jake scoffed and sat down on the edge of the bed, beside you. “Sleeping is probably the tamest thing people are going to do in his bedrooms,” Jake said, looking down at you. “You’re fine.”

“Oh.” With that, you crawled under the covers, which were deliciously soft. The pillows were cold and crisp, and you breathed out a contented sigh. 

“You must be tired,” Jake said. “First college party, right?”

“First party,” you replied, suddenly feeling embarrassment over your lackluster social life. 

Jake shook his head in disbelief. “You’re so chill, I don’t get why you weren’t popular in high school.”

“Ask Jay,” you deadpanned. “He could give you a few reasons.”

“Jay’s a fucking…” Jake seemed to catch himself, and he looked at the ceiling before staring back down at you. “I love him, but I don’t understand him. I don’t know why he treats you like that.” 

Why do you let him treat me like that? The words clogged in your throat. You were being unfair. Jake had been telling Jay to stop recently, had been trying to help you. It wasn’t like he could stop Jay, anyways. Jay always did what he wanted. 

You must have looked strange, because Jake bit his lip in worry. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I caught a little cold yesterday,” you said. Jake touched the back of his hand to your forehead, and you were surprised by how chilly his touch was. 

“How’d you manage that?” Jake said in a low murmur. He moved his hand to your neck, just under your chin. 

“Went outside.”

“And why did you go outside?”

You gave him a small smile. “The vibes.”

Jake chuckled. “You can be so funny,” he said. “You can be so…”

You never got to hear what else Jake thought you were, because he had leaned down and planted his plush lips onto yours, kissing you softly. A dulcet sweet kiss, as gentle as dandelion fluff. When he pulled away, his eyes lingered on your lips. “Sorry,” Jake said quietly, moving his hand from your neck. 

You didn’t say anything, and you felt as though you had reverted back to the you from Monday. 

“Sorry,” Jake said again, “I don’t know why I did that.” He hesitated, then whispered, “Do you want me to go?” 

You bobbed your head up and down, almost imperceptibly. Jake drew a sharp intake of breath, nodded, then stood up. “I hope you feel better,” he muttered before leaving the bedroom. 

You didn’t. You couldn’t even fall asleep. You laid there, listening to the sounds of the rain and the bass kicks coming from the living room. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was racing. 

Bringing your fingers to your lips, you traced the soft skin. Jake had kissed you like you were something fragile, something that needed special care. He was attractive, friendly, and treated you far better than any other man in your life ever had. 

So why were you thinking about Jay? 

It was only a seven minute drive to Yeonjun’s from Sad U, which would be a nearly two hour long walk. Even if the weather cleared up, it would be an arduous trek, and without your phone, you would probably get lost. 

There was no point in trying to rest, but you didn’t want to see Jake right now. You didn’t want to confront his feelings, your feelings, or your lack thereof. Maybe you should go downstairs, see if you could scrounge up some alcohol. Drink yourself into a stupor and black out. 

So you got out of bed, shoved your shoes on, and headed out the door. As you walked down the hallway, you bumped into Riki, who was carrying a bottle of something with two red solo cups. “Jake wants to drink all of a sudden,” he explained. “But he’s too much of a fair maiden to get it himself. Annoying. It’s a crime for me to even be touching this shit.”

“I want to leave,” you blurted out. 

Riki stared at you. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” 

Shifting the items in his hands, he sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He checked the time, then looked at you gravely. “Weather’s supposed to clear up in 3 hours,” Riki said finally. “I can take someone’s car.”

“They wouldn’t mind?”

“If they minded, then they shouldn’t have put me on key duty,” Riki said, shaking his flannel’s pocket. You heard the sound of keys jangling together.

“You really are evil,” you said approvingly. 

“How do you think I got into the club?” Riki smiled, then sighed. “I’m gonna go take care of Jake. You gonna come dance again?”

“Don’t think so.” 

“All right,” Riki said. “Which room are you in?”

“Up the stairs…down the hall, the leftmost room.”

“I’ll meet you there in a few hours, then,” Riki said, and he prepared to leave.

“Wait.” When Riki turned to face you, crading the bottle of alcohol under his arms, you swallowed.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Riki snorted. “Don’t say depressing, orphan ass shit like that. You piss Jay off, you don’t suck his dick, you don’t get into dumbass slapfights, and you’re funny. That’s all I need.”

“I thought Karma Club members would sort of…hate the same people.”

“Yeah, a lot of people make assumptions about us,” Riki said, irritation clear on his face. “They don’t know shit.” When you remain quiet, he heads over to the living room.

–

Three hours pass by, trickling like molasses. You go in and out of sleep, dreams intermingling with daydreams. You think about the scarf, about Jay, the smoothies Jake promised you, about your classes, about how five days could culminate into something like this. Lying in a stranger’s bed. You think about how, if Jay hadn’t fiercely kissed you on the rooftop, Jake would have been your first kiss. But if Jay hadn’t kissed you, would you have accepted Isa’s invitation to hang out? Would you have come to this party?

Riki knocked on your door. “It’s open,” you said, and he stepped inside.

“Jake’s acting stupid,” Riki said, gesturing for you to get up. “Fighting with Gigi because she brought up the Mina thing.” 

You shuffled over to his side, and together you descended the winding staircase. 

“I take it you don’t know what the Mina thing is?” Riki asked. 

You shook your head. 

“Jake would probably hate it if I told you,” Riki began, holding the door open for you, “so I’ll tell you.

You slipped through the door; the wind was weaker, and the rain came in a light shower instead of the downpour through which you had traversed. “What’s with you?”

Riki laughed, striding over to the massive garage. He pressed a button and it folded itself into the wall. “I like starting shit.”

“Fair.”

The two of you got into someone’s car, with heated leather seats and fuzzy dice in the mirror. “So, the Mina thing was pretty straightforward,” he began, pulling out of the driveway. “From what I understand, Jake hooked up with a girl when she was drunk. Really drunk. She said it was assault, he said that it was consensual.” 

You were surprised by the blase nature with which he relayed this information, but you figured being in the Karma Club took a lot of grit. 

“She tried to take him to court, but Jake…well, he’s rich. Really rich. She never got a rape kit, apparently didn’t know they existed, so she had no evidence. The only thing was…” Riki squinted at the road. “Fuck, I missed a turn…doesn’t matter. Anyways, the only thing was that her back was fucked up.”

“Fucked up?”

“Scratches, bruises and shit. Jake said that she liked it rough, and I never got to see it myself, but one of her old friends did. She didn’t believe that Jake raped her, but it looked ugly. Anyways, then she got known as the girl that cried rape. Everyone sort of just ran with it. Then she tried to kill herself.”

Riki said it so casually, you nearly didn’t register that he had said it. “Pardon me?”

“She tried to overdose on something, I don’t know what. It didn’t work, she got her stomach pumped. And then she left the school. It was the middle of last semester, so I have no clue how she completed her exams. Probably didn’t. No one knows where she is now. No one knew about the attempt, except for the KC members at the time.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well,” Riki said, turning onto Decelis Street, where Sadame University was located. “She had lost all of her friends, so it’s not like they would have cared. Sorry if that sounds like a dick thing to say, but it’s true. And the people who did find her, well…they weren’t going to tell anyone.”

“Why? Who found her?”

Riki was silent as he pulled up in front of the tall, imposing gate. “You can get in, right? There’s a few entrances that lead inside, or you could climb over.”

“Yeah,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I should be fine.”

“Good.”

“Thanks for driving me.”

“It was Jay,” he said quietly. “Jay found her. She was from Fawcett, and he found her in the girls’ bathroom.”

–

Staggering through the halls of Fawcett, which were eerily quiet (quite a few students had gone home for the weekend, anticipating the storm. The rest were probably in Stoker, enjoying the proximity to the KC without stirring their ire. 

It was too much to think about, too much to figure out. Jake had either committed a crime, or he was being unfairly framed. Either way, the girl had tried to kill herself, and Jay had found her. Why would he be in the Fawcett bathroom? None of it made sense, and you were so worn out, you could hardly bring yourself to think about it.

You jammed your key into the lock, but you realized that the door was already open. That’s right. Isa had rushed you outside, so you hadn’t had the chance to lock your door. When you cracked the door ajar, you saw someone lying on your bed, reading one of your books. 

Jay.

This was the longest Friday night of your life. 

The door made a creaking noise as you pushed it all the way open, and he turned to you and smiled. It was a Duchenne smile, devoid of any joy. His hair, which was normally styled, fell limply into his eyes.  He set the book down on your nightstand, got to his feet, and pulled you inside lightly. As he let you go, he closed the door and locked it with an unpropitious click. 

“Where were you?” Jay asked, leaning against the door. He crossed his arms over his loose black button-up and tilted his head.

“Yeonjun’s,” you said.  You still felt weak from the last 6 hours, so you rested your hand on your nightstand for support as you stood in front of him. 

“Oh, Yeonjun’s,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “How was it? Fun?”

The benign nature of his questioning only made you feel more perturbed. “It was okay,” you said. “Loud. Not as many people as I thought.”

“You know how it is,” Jay continued. “KC parties are always exclusive.” His voice didn’t have its usual arrogant, loud tone, the one that commanded attention. Now he spoke in a slow, borderline sensual drawl.

“Why didn’t you go?”

Jay shrugged and kicked himself off of the door, standing upright. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You may not know this because you don’t have any friends, but hanging around the same people for so long gets boring. I got sick of it, all their bullshit. Besides, KC parties are all the same. You go there, you listen to the shittiest house music, you smoke cat piss because it’s Heeseung’s favourite, you grind on some sluts, you fuck one or two of them, you have to kick their drunk asses out, you go home, then you fight the urge to kill yourself, pen in your jugular.”

“Sounds like a great time.”

Jay laughed humourlessly. “I didn’t know you could make jokes. You’re just full of surprises. Going to parties - KC parties, no less! - wearing makeup…you fuck anyone?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Did you fuck anyone? Seems like you were looking to get fucked tonight.” Jay took a small step towards you.

“No,” you said, thinking about the kiss. Both of them.

“Really?” Jay stepped even closer. “Not even Jake? He has a weird thing for you, you know. Probably thinks he can dick the mute out of you. I’m surprised he didn’t try anything. But then, he’s always been kind of a pussy, though.”

You stayed silent, backing up. He wasn’t wearing his usual cologne today, so his natural scent wafted into your nose. It was woodsy and a little spicy. 

“Back to the silent treatment? You’re killing me.”

Your hand brushed against the book he had been reading. “Why are you here, Jay?” 

“I missed you,” Jay said sarcastically. “I just had to come see you. Why, you didn’t want to see me? Are you scared of me now?”

You shook your head, stepping back again. Your calves hit the cool wrought iron frame of your bed, and you realize that there’s nowhere left to go. 

Jay advanced upon you, until he was hovering over you like a specter. “Of course you aren’t. Nothing I can do can frighten you, right?”

“No.”

Anger contorted his features into a vicious snarl, and he pushed you onto the bed. Yourlegs hit the edge of the bed, and you winced from the impact. Furious hands groped all over the front of your body, as if he were attempting to touch every part of you at once. Jay’s lips pressed onto yours, his teeth clashing against yours. This kiss lacked the desperation and  hopelessness of last time. Now, his kisses were vicious attacks, wet and hot. His hips rutted against your crotch, like he was trying to fuck you through the layers of clothing.

Jay pulled away, gasping. His lips were covered in his own slick saliva. “Why aren’t you fighting back? Why do you let me do whatever I want to you?”

He’s pinned your arms against your sides, so all you can do is look into his eyes. Your voice came out more strongly than you had intended. “You’ll do it if I fight back or not. You always do whatever you want. I’m not strong enough to stop you, so why bother?”

Jay growled with indignation. “You’re pathetic. You’re weak.” He kissed you again, as if trying to devour you. One of his rough hands slid up your dress, the other kneading your breasts through the thin fabric. 

You didn’t kiss him back. You didn’t squirm. You laid there, pressed into your bed. Jay forced his tongue into your mouth and let you choke on it. The hand had disappeared up your dress was now sliding your panties down, down your legs. Pushing your dress up to reveal your naked pussy, Jay broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He looked into your eyes. 

“You’re mine,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “You know that?” 

The words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your body. “What?”

“I said, you’re mine.” Jay held his belt in his hands and glanced at your wrists, then your face. He tossed the belt to the side and pushed your dress even further up your body, giving him access to your tummy. He spread his hand across it, rubbing it in a circular motion.

“You hate me.”

“I despise you.”

“Why would you want to have someone you hate? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Jay said before spitting into his right hand. His other hand yanked his zipper down and took his cock out. It was almost scary to look at: long and angry with a reddened tip and a slight curve. He pushed your legs apart harshly. As if it were a chore, Jay stroked his cock a few times as he lined himself up with your pussy. 

With a grunt, he plunged himself inside of you, piercing through your thin membrane ruthlessly. You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying out, but it was painful. It was a searing heat that licked at your walls, down to your core. Jay didn’t bottom out, thankfully, but he was already lingering dangerously close to your cervix. He was already panting, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to catch himself. His silver cross necklace dangled in your face, so close you could twirl it around your finger. 

Just as soon as you were getting used to the strange feeling of having a cock jammed in your cunt, you heard Jay’s husky voice. “Fight back,” he whispered before pulling out and slamming back inside of you. Your eyes were trained on Jay’s, and he captured and held your gaze. He thrusted again, harshly, and the slick noise made you realize that you were wet. “You’re just letting me do this,” Jay continued, starting to develop a deep, irregular pace. Quarter notes of hard snaps of his hips, allegrisimo sixteenth-notes of incessant pounding. “Letting me take this pussy. Come on, struggle or I’ll think you want it.”

Jay continued slamming into you, leaving little half moons on your hips from his fingernails. His head dipped down to your neck, and he bit and sucked on a small spot near its base. A hickey. Jay licked a stripe up to the right of your neck and marked you there as well.

You felt wildly conflicted. You didn’t want this, you didn’t ask for this, and it felt odd. Yet at the same time, you felt so full. Every time he drove his cock into you, you felt like you would tear apart. Pain and pleasure coalesced into something you couldn’t comprehend.

Jay’s words devolved into grunting as he thrusted faster and faster. Somehow, the look on his face didn’t seem to display pleasure, or even schadenfreude. He stared at you through darkened eyes and his nose was scrunched.

“You’d let me do anything to you,” Jay said, almost accusingly. “Anything.” With another thrust, you feel something hot and fluid fill your womb, and soon the acrid smell of urine floats into your nostrils. 

Jay stares into your face, waiting for a reaction, searching your face for any weakness. When he finds none, he lets out a strangled groan of frustration and begins slamming into you wildly. He lifts your legs up, gripping them by your thighs, and takes your pussy with the aggression of an animal. “I made you a piss-whore, a dirty fucking piss whore. Aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry? Are you a fucking robot?” He punctuated his insults with angry thrusts; you could hear the sticky amalgamation of piss and your own cum making squelching noises. You reach for the sheets beneath your hands and search for any purchase. 

Jay let out one final, irate grunt and spilled inside of you, shooting his cum all the way to your cervix. He dropped your legs back onto the bed and rested on top of you, your head between his arms. You had seen a lot of expressions on Jay’s face: anger, frustration, pride, sadistic glee, but this was something else. Something you couldn’t read. You made eye contact with him again, and he pulled out of you, staggering to his feet. He shoved his cock into his boxers and started to dress again. 

Jay opened your door, but before he did he cast one last lingering look at you as you laid on your bed. You looked a sight:forehead shining with sweat, two bright, stinging hickeys on your neck, and a pool of piss, cum, and blood oozing from your pussy onto your bed. Hurriedly, as if someone had ordered him to do so, Jay pulled out his wallet and tossed a flurry of bills on your nightstand. “Get something to eat,” he muttered before leaving, slamming your door.

Your fingers crawled down your stomach and dipped your fingers into your vaginal entrance, mimicking the stretch that Jay had given you.

As you rested there, staring at the ceiling, you decided to determine what had happened. The simple answer was that you had been raped. Could you enjoy rape? You didn’t feel like a victim. You didn’t feel like something horrible had happened to you. If you were being honest, this had been the most interesting thing that had occurred in your life. No one had ever felt so strongly about you in any capacity, and it thrilled you. Jay’s hatred invigorated you, made you feel warm.

It filled you.

You plunged your fingers into your vacant pussy and allowed yourself to moan. 

-

You woke up with a heavy body and a foggy mind. For some reason, you thought that you had woken up at Yeonjun’s party, surrounded by a pile of bodies. Instead, you woke up alone, wearing a clean nightgown. A nightgown? Hadn’t you been covered in bodily fluids last night, dressed in an outfit that Isa had picked for you? And your sheets, they were pristine. You smoothed them down as if trying to find remnants of the night before. Had you made all of that up? And if so, from where? It all sounded unreal. Riding a golf cart in the middle of a storm, partying with the Karma Club, and losing your virginity to Jay…

That’s right. You weren’t a virgin anymore. Your first kiss, your first fuck, they were both Jay’s. You glanced at your nightstand, and you the smattering of bills laying on top of your book. You picked one of the bills up, a one hundred dollar bill. You didn’t even think most stores accepted one hundred dollar bills these days. Christ. 

The next thing to do was to check your phone. A dismal sight greeted you: the time was 4:52, you had nine missed calls and 32 messages to parse through. First, the missed calls. Five from Isa, two from Jake, and one from an unknown phone number. You called that one first, and it picked up on the third ring. 

“You’re alive,” Riki said through the phone. “Jesus. Everyone thought you died.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? You’ve been asleep for over 12 hours,” he said. “Your room door was locked. Isa’s been driving herself crazy, and Jay isn’t helping- oh, yeah, Jay is back.” 

Yeah, no shit. “That’s crazy.”

“It is crazy. Been a stupid ass night. Jay won’t tell us where he went. And Jake’s been tweaking since the party.”

“Jake?”

Riki heaved a sigh. “Yup. He’s been pacing around and he has the temper of a chihuahua right now. He’s in Won’s room right now losing his shit. Swear to God, it almost isn’t worth it being KC sometimes.”

“Stressful night,” you commented blithely.

“Isn’t it? I’m on my way to the Stoker caf right now. I’m gonna fuck up a samosa."

“Enjoy it.”

“Oh, I shall.”

You hung up on Riki and groaned. With a degree of annoyance, you flicked through your texts. 

The ones from Isa were about what you had expected. Concerned “where are you” messages that made up the bulk of the 32 texts. Clearly, she got antsy when she was on molly. It was nice to have someone care, though. You didn’t text her back yet, lest she try to come see you. If you saw anyone right now, you thought that you’d explode. 

The texts you were truly apprehensive about opening were the ones from an unknown number. The message started with “hey, it’s jake”, which boded poorly. You steeled yourself and clicked on the text. 

hey, it’s jake. wanted to let you know that i had a lot of fun partying with you last night :) we gotta get you to the club sometime soon. you me isa and riki so isa won’t be third-wheeling

i hope i didn’t make things weird last night. i didn’t mean to rush you or anything.  i tend to think with my heart first instead of my brain, which makes me do stupid shit

not that kissing you was stupid

it was actually really nice

but i know that there’s been this longstanding situation between you and jay, and you probably don’t have the best opinion of us. i can’t blame you for that. and i know i probably haven’t done a very good job of expressing it, but i’m starting to have genuine feelings for you. been that way for a while, but it’s only now that i’ve gotten the chance to show it

so i got carried away

maybe it’s too soon idk but there’s something about you that’s different. i wanna get closer to you, and even if you don’t wanna pursue anything, i’d like to remain your friend

Hastily, you texted him: Let’s talk in person, later.

Not five minutes had passed before Jake texted you: sure, whenever you want. are you okay?

You: Yeah, you?

Jake: been better. did you just get up?

You: Yeah.

Jake: you sleep like a rock

You: It’s been a long night.

–

You surveyed the damage Jay had done to you in your full-length mirror. Two red hickeys staining your neck, fingerprint-shaped bruises on your stomach, a bruise on your hips, and scars like crescent moons littering your arm near your elbow from his nails digging into you. You found it pretty. 

Shrugging your nightgown on, you glanced at the money that was still on the nightstand. You hadn’t actually eaten anything since you had snacked with Isa. When you left your room, a hoodie covering your nightgown, you checked to see if the Fawcett restaurant was open. It was, but to your dismay Isa was sitting with a group of her friends. She looked exhausted. You remembered that you hadn’t spoken to her or responded to her texts, and you just couldn’t bear to face her right now.

You took the back exit out of the Fawcett building. Hazily, you remembered that Riki had talked about getting a samosa. You called him, and he picked up, making loud chewing noises. 

“Hey.”

“I’m coming to get a samosa. Is the coast clear?”

“Do you mean, is Jay in the cafeteria?”

“...Yeah.”

“Nah.”

“On my way.”

You hung up the phone and, for the first time, walked towards the Stoker dorms. To get there, you had to pass the library, and you made a note to get on the roof and smoke there. It had been nearly a week since the last time you had been able to puff away on a cigarette while you brooded. 

Upon entering, its opulence in comparison to the more modest dormitories was apparent. Why did a college dorm need marble tiles, a chandelier in the dining hall, and a plus red carpet lining the hallway? Unlike the other dorms, which were two story buildings, Stoker had three stories. This was despite being the dorm with the least amount of residents. The foyer faced a staircase that split into two, ultimately leading to the same area. To your right were the glass doors that led to the restaurant. 

As you walked towards the dining area, you looked for Riki. He should have been easy to find, considering his uncommon hairstyle and large stature, but you didn’t see him. 

The dining area was, thankfully, fairly sparse. You shuffled towards the short line for their restaurant, which was a sleek, modern eatery that sold a wide variety of dishes. As you scoured the menu, you heard thudding footsteps behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. 

“Riki tricked me,” you muttered, fingering the bills you had shoved into your hoodie’s pocket. 

“It’s what he’s best at,” Jay said, his breath tickling your neck. “Getting something to eat?”

You would have thought that such close proximity to him would have made you anxious. Instead, smelling his cologne brought a sense of familiarity. Jay teased you, you were the victim. The nature of the universe. “Yeah.”

“With my money?”

“Yeah.”

Jay chuckled. “Well, look at this. I fucked you, you’re using my money…it’s like you’re my girlfriend.”

You turned to look at Jay. He retained his cocksure attitude, but something was different about him. “Don’t you already have a girlfriend?”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “Who?”

Was he an amnesiac? “Isa.”

“Isa?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yeah?”

“Isa,” Jay repeated with a scoff. “No. No, I’m not dating Isa.”

“Tell her that,” you replied.

“I should. Bitch stole my Jane’s Addiction t-shirt,” he muttered. 

“So take it back.” One of the people working beyond the counter politely told you to order, so you turned around and ordered a vegetable samosa, just like Riki. 

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Jay said, flashing his card and tapping it onto the reader.

Things were too amicable. You looked at the card reader, then at Jay, who was grinning at you wickedly. “What, no one’s ever bought you food before?”

“No.”

“Jesus fuck, you really are pathetic,” Jay said, his grin faltering. You walked over to the waiting area, next to the straws and condiments, and Jay followed you over. For a while, you fiddled with a packet of ketchup while Jay stood by, hands in his pockets. You had a million questions you wanted to ask him, but none of them felt suitable for a spot like this, out in the open. 

“Did you tell Riki?” you asked finally.

“Tell him what?” You stared at him pointedly. “What, that we fucked? No. Haven’t told anyone. Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Not even Isa?”

Jay sighed, resting his head on the wall. “No, I’m not going to tell Isa.”

You nodded, feeling a sudden chill. In hindsight, you should have worn a jacket, but you weren’t thinking straight at all. 

“You cold?”

“A little,” you said.

“It’s November, you should have worn a jacket,” Jay said, shaking his head. “Pathetic and dumb…”

When your samosas were ready, Jay got them from the counter. He handed yours to you without a word, so you accepted it quietly. You walked over to an empty table. Like everything else in Stoker, it was needlessly ostentatious. White tablecloths for a college dorm cafeteria? 

Jay sat next to you without prompting. You didn’t know why he was acting so chummy, but you decided to take advantage of it. You decided to ask him one more question. 

“Why’d you do it?” you asked quietly.

Jay waited until he had finished his bite of food before speaking. “Jesus, you’re talkative today,” he grumbled. “I almost miss when you were mute.” 

You sat there and ate your samosa, flicking the crumbs off of the tablecloth. 

“Because I wanted to,” Jay said. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but a shadow hovered over both of you. When you turned to look at the source of the obstruction, you saw Jake, dressed in his Sad U sweatshirt. His hair was messy, as usual, and he looked exhausted. You chewed your samosa and stared at him.

“Hey,” Jake said, mustering a small smile. “Riki said you were over here.”

Of course he did. “Yeah, Fawcett’s caf is closed,” you said. 

Jake nodded, his hair bouncing. “Wanted to what, Jay?”

Jay looked at Jake inquisitively. “What?”

“You said ‘because you wanted to’,” Jake said, and he began pressing his knuckles against the table. “Wanted to what?”

“Oh, that,” Jay said jovially. “I was talking about last night. I fucked her until she bled and she liked it. Didn’t you, sweetie?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jake said; his knuckles turned white and his voice was low.

“She was so wet,” Jay continued, putting his samosa on a paper towel. “And she purred like a kitten. The only problem was that she was tight as a bitch. I couldn’t even get my dick out of her.”

Jake slammed his hand on the table. “Fucking stop!”

Jay turned to you, his voice becoming polite. “See, Jakey here is having flashbacks. He hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. The last time he fucked a girl, was, well…”

Jay’s head snapped back as Jake landed a punch squarely on his cheek. You caught the smile burgeoning on Jay’s face before he stood up.

“Look at Jakey, trying to be a real man in front of a girl,” Jay said, dodging Jake’s wild punches. “You weren’t so brave last year.” 

Jake lunged for Jay’s throat and they tumbled to the ground. This was fun and all, but you didn’t really sign up for this. “Jake, stop,” you said, mainly because you felt like you had to.

“He’s always saying vile shit about you,” Jake said, holding Jay’s arms above his head. “This isn’t the first time he’s said gross, fucked up shit like that.”

Jay kneed Jake in the ribs with a gleeful smile, causing Jake to momentarily let go of Jay’s hands. The thought of getting in there and trying to pry them apart seemed funny, but it also repulsed you greatly. You got to your feet, took your samosa, and walked away from the dining hall. Whatever history Jay and Jake had, it went beyond you. You felt like you were a pawn in someone else’s game. 

When you got to the doors of the dining hall, Riki was posed in front of them, recording the fight with his phone. He smiled at you, shut his phone off, and pocketed it. “Pretty cool, right?”

“You tricked me,” you said, pointing at him with your samosa. 

Riki took a bite out of your meal. “I told you,” he said through a garbled mouthful, “I love starting shit.”

You couldn’t deny that he was an honest liar. You tucked yourself into a corner and watched Jay and Jak attempt to maul each other. 

You ate your samosa while Riki spoke. “You didn’t try to break up the fight?”

“Why bother?”

Riki craned his head towards your pastry again, so you held it up to him. “They say that indifference is the greatest form of contempt.”

“Thanks for the life lesson, Girl Meets World,” you deadpanned.

He snorted and wiped crumbs from his mouth. “I think I’m starting to understand why Jay is so obsessed with you.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Riki looked down at you and gave you an odd, almost solemn smile. “I think you’re the only person who cares less about life than him.”

–

You needed a smoke. Badly. Ideally, you’d like to be put into a 3-day medically induced coma, but a smoke would suffice for now. 

Unfortunately, life wouldn’t award you that kindness. As you sat in your room, debating on just opening the window and having a sneaky cigarette inside, you heard a knock on the door. A groan slipped from your lips before you opened it.

There stood a battered Jake. Split lip, one puffy, red cheek, and an eye that was swelling. “Jay looks worse,” Jake said with a small laugh. You knew that wasn’t true. “Can I come in?”

You nodded and gestured for him to sit down. He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his jeans as he gathered his thoughts. You locked the door and sat next to him. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Jake said, licking the fresh wound on his lip. “I acted…I wasn’t acting like myself. I was just so angry that he said those things about you, and it just…”

“It’s fine,” you said, looking down at your hands. 

“Thanks,” he said, sounding relieved. Then he frowned again as he glanced around your room. “Listen, uh…you heard Giselle talk about the Mina thing, right?”

“Yeah,” you said carefully. “I don’t know what it is, though.” 

“Wow. Riki kept his mouth shut for once? Impressive. Well…I figure, if we’re going to be friends, I should be honest with you. This is gonna be kind of heavy, so you know, we can save this for another time, or something…”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “Go ahead.”

Jake cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling. “Well, last year I had a thing with this girl, Mina. She was…she was really shy. Cute. Artsy. She sort of reminds me of you, in some ways, but she wasn’t as mature as you are. Mina was kind of flighty, you know? She always did whatever she wanted.

“We had the same philosophy class, which is how we met. We sat next to each other, and we would talk during class. So we started hooking up, and you could say that we got pretty close. So, earlier this year, in April, I took her to this KC party. Mina wasn’t the biggest party girl, but she liked to take dabs and chill. The others didn’t mind me taking her, so she came with me.” Jake swallowed and glanced at you before returning his attention to the ceiling.

“We had both had a bit too much to drink, so I took her upstairs to my dorm room. And then…I suggested that we fool around a little. And, well, I got a little…I’m pretty rough. It’s not anything bad, it’s just how I like it. She liked it too. It was one of the reasons why we got along so well back then. So I was rough that night, but she liked it. She was definitely acting like she liked it. I don’t know what happened. The morning after, she was freaking out. She was pointing at all the bruises and calling me…she said that I…” Jake rubbed his chin harshly. “It was all bullshit. I don’t know why she didn’t just break up with me instead of trying to ruin my life like that. She spread that shit over the school, she tried…she tried to sue me. All because I wanted to have fun with my girlfriend.”

You waited for him to mention the suicide attempt, but he never did. Instead, Jake let the silence linger, and it was suffocating. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said, and to drive your point home, you gently touched his arm. Jake looked down at your hand and smiled. 

“I thought you should know,” he said softly. “I wanted you to know.” Jake leaned back on his hands and sighed. “Feels so great to get that off my chest.”

You nodded, rubbing his arm gently, mentally reviewing all of the information you knew. 

“You know what I love about you?” Jake said. “You’re such a good listener. I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“I’m glad,” you said.

“Hey.” Jake grasped the hand on his arm and squeezed it tightly. “I meant it, you know. I do like you, but I’m willing to wait, or even just be your friend. It’s all up to you.”

Jesus. How did regular people deal with this? You looked at your conjoined hands as you tried to come up with something to say. “I’ve never even had a friend,” you said slowly, “so this will take a while.”

“I’ll wait,” Jake said earnestly, his eyes glittering. 

“I’ll need those free smoothies first.”

He laughed. “Yeah, of course. Of course, I’ll hook you up. Let’s head to Stopkewich on Monday, yeah? After the library?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Jake reluctantly let go of your hand and stood up. “I’m gonna go to the health clinic,” he said, jerking his thumb at his eye. “Can’t have this ruining the masterpiece.”

“Be careful,” you said, walking him the short distance to the door. 

“Will do,” Jake said with a wide grin. “See you, Wednesday.” 

As soon as he left, you pulled out your phone and texted Riki.

You: I need Jay’s number.

Riki: why lol

You: It’ll be interesting. I might plant more seeds of strife between your two friends.

Riki: be careful w that

Riki: there’s a delicate balance to shit-stirring

Riki: u can’t do too much of KC will be ruined 

Riki: *or

Riki: like u can’t tell jay some shit that’ll make him hate jake 

Riki: they should hate each other but ntm yk?

You: You’re full of sage advice.

Riki: ikr 

Riki gave you Jay’s number, and you texted him: We need to talk.

Fifteen minutes later, he responded.

Jay: ask nicely.

You didn’t know why you bothered.

You: Never mind. 

Jay: you need to learn how to swallow your pride sometime, you know that?

Jay: thought you would have gotten humbled last night.

You: It wasn’t nearly that transformative an experience.

Jay: god, you’re a cunt. 

Jay: i hope you aren’t getting clingy on me 

Jay: hate it when girls do that

You: You don’t have to talk to me again after this.

Jay: now you’re being dramatic 

Jay: where did you want to meet? your room again? 

You: Rooftop of the library at 11.

Jay: you text like a hitman

Jay: see you then

–

You were on the rooftop at 10:50, finally enjoying your cigarette. You breathed in the smoke, enjoying the subtle burn, and sighed. The rooftop was damp, so you bunched your coat under your butt and sat on it. The air was chilly, but you didn’t mind. You were focused on getting answers.

Shortly after you had finished your first cigarette, Jay sat down next to you, under the awning of the rooftop. It was hard to see his face in the darkness, the only light source being the full, luminous moon. Judging from the little you could see, you could tell that Jay had gotten the upper hand in the fight. “I didn’t know you smoked,” Jay said. 

You stubbed your cigarette out on the roof and shrugged. 

“I could use a smoke,” Jay said. “What do you smoke?”

You pulled another cigarette out of the pack and placed it between your lips. “Marlboro Lights.”

“You smoke lights? You’re as pussy as your boyfriend,” he said, holding his hand out. “What are you staring at? Give me one.”

You handed him a cigarette and lit your own. Jay leaned towards you, cigarette hanging from his lips, so you lit his own as well. 

The both of you sat there, taking long, peaceful drags. You closed your eyes as you smoked, relishing in the quiet. Jay’s presence didn’t bother you, either.

“I take it you didn’t bring me here to smoke with you,” he said after a while. 

“No,” you said. “I want to know about Mina.”

Jay coughed before barking out a sarcastic laugh. “Mina?”

“Giselle mentioned her at the party last night,” you said, taking another drag. “Jake got weird when Giselle said her name…”

“Giselle has such a big mouth,” Jay said. “Don’t know why Heeseung keeps her around.” He took another hit from his cigarette and looked out at the skyline. “You wanna know what happened with Mina? I’ll tell you what happened with Mina.

“Jake doesn’t know how to pick a decent girl to fuck, that’s his problem. He’s obsessed with finding some girl with mental problems and rehabilitating her using the healing power of his 2 incher. So if you thought he liked you for your stunning personality, then I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. He likes you because he thinks you’re weak. Mina was even worse, though. She thought she was special because she liked listening to indie music and smoking weed and having crystals and taking Seroquel. Jake loved that shit, though.

“So we had this party in Sunoo’s room. His room is on the top floor, so everyone kind of just spreads out anyways, out into the halls…you don’t care about any of this. Anyways, it was a small party and Jake brought Mina. They fucked in his room and the next day she was saying that Jake raped her.”

“Did he?”

Jay scoffed. “Who knows? The point is that he freaked out at her. Jakey is really conscious about his image. He likes being ‘the nice one’, so he’s always pretending like he’s not as fucked as the rest of us. So he lost his shit, started spreading rumours, dragging her name through the mud. It was pretty funny, but like I said, she was already fucked in the head. 

“So she called Jake one night, like a month after the party, and she’s hollering, saying all kinds of crazy shit. She said…” Jay took a long drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. “That she was in the bathroom at her dorm, Fawcett. That she was going to take a shit ton of pills and kill herself and put him in her note, yada yada. I thought it was the usual borderline personality ‘please give me attention’ routine, so I was laughing about it, but Jake was tearing himself up. He was too pussy to go over there, so I had to do it.

“You ever seen someone overdose? Mina’s body was twitching and she was literally foaming at the mouth. I had to make sure that she didn’t knock her head against a sink and crack her skull open. I had to sit there and wait while Jake sat in his room with his thumbs stuck up his ass. She stopped breathing at one point, so I had to give her CPR. After that, she left the school.” 

You looked down at your hands. “What’d she overdose on?” 

Jay stared at you. “What, why does that matter? A girl almost died in front of me. Fuck, I was there when they had to give her naloxone. She probably overdosed on her stupid antipsychotics, who gives a shit?” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“Were you scared?”

“Scared? No, I wasn’t scared. I was just…pissed. Pissed that Jake sent me to clean up after his problem.”

You let out a long trail of smoke, and the two of you fell silent again. The air felt thick now, heavy with tension. 

“You know, I didn’t even like it,” Jay said after a while. 

“Like what?” You stubbed out your own cigarette and pulled another one out of your pack. You didn’t normally smoke this much, but you felt as though you were making up for the nights you had missed. 

“Pass me another cig?” Jay opened your mouth, so you put the cigarette in and lit it for him. “I didn’t like fucking you.” He let out a long trail of smoke and leaned his head against the wall. “Physically, it felt good, but I didn’t get what I wanted from it.”

“What did you want?”

Jay chuckled. “What did I want? What I wanted…I wanted to feel something different, besides the way I feel every single day.”

You blew smoke out of the corner of your mouth. “And how do you feel?”

“Nothing. I don’t feel a damn thing.”

“Maybe,” you began drolly, “you should try having sex with someone you like.”

“Won’t happen,” he said. “I don’t like anyone.”

“So what about Is-,”

Jake groaned and pointed his cigarette at you. “Isa, Isa, Isa. You know what her problem is? She thinks she can change me. I don’t get it. She gets with me, and then she’s like, ‘Jay, hold my hand in public!’ ‘Jay, can you text me good morning?’ ‘Jay, can you take me to Nobu?’ I hate that. All those bullshit romantic gestures. They’re not me, and I don’t know why she thinks I would change for her. I can’t change, and I won’t change for anyone.”

You didn’t speak, so Jay continued talking. “I don’t think people can change, you know. I think whatever you show is who you are. When people ‘change’ because they get a little money, that’s just them expressing what they couldn’t before. It’s not that rich guys are all pedophiles. Every poor family has an uncle that likes touching kids. It’s already in you, and it’s just a matter of whether or not you have the means to express it.”

“I don’t think so,” you said quietly. 

“No? Please, enlighten me with your personal philosophy, Ms. ‘I’ll Let My Boyfriend Get beat Up Cause I’m So Aloof.’”

You sucked in a breath of smoke and blew it out slowly, watching the delicate tendrils evaporate into the night air. “I think if a person no longer believes a fundamental truth, then they change. If a child no longer thinks that they’re safe in their house, then they’ll change their behavior.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, “but they still have the capacity to do so. It’s still in their ability to change.”

“Well, change is a conscious decision. You’re saying that people can’t change, I think they can.”

“Quite an optimistic take from the gloomiest bitch in Sad.”

You shrugged. “I never said people always changed for the better.”

“I guess not.” Jay smoked his cigarette quietly for a minute before saying, “You think your boyfriend changed, or do you think he always had it in him to drive a woman to suicide?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said. 

“Ooh,” Jay said mockingly, “what are you going to do if I call him your boyfriend?”

You held your cigarette up, grinning. “I’ll put this out on you.”

Only the faintest of Jay’s features were visible in the darkness, but you could see his lips contort into a slight smile. “I dare you.” He took his jacket off, tossing it to the side, and rolled up his thin long-sleeve. “Do it.”

“It’s too dark,” you said.

 In response, Jay took your hand and pressed it on a spot near his elbow. “Right here,” he whispered. “Right here.”

When had you ever denied Jay of a request? You took your dying cigarette from your mouth and ground it into his arm. At first, you did it slowly, but as he hissed, you twisted the cigarette in. If you listened closely, you could hear the flesh searing. A quiet moan escaped Jay’s lips, a sound that made you feel a familiar warmth. When the cigarette was all but ash, you flicked the remaining butt away. 

“My turn,” Jay whispered. Cigarette clamped between his lips, he reached out and zipped your jacket all the way down. You pulled it off yourself, placing it near his own. Jay gently pushed you onto the roof, so that you were staring up into the sky. With warm hands, he pulled your sweater up, exposing a strip of your bare, tender skin.  You lifted your head up so you could see his movements. One hand held your stomach, his thumb idly swiping at it. The other hand was lowering the cigarette onto your flesh. 

It stung and burnt. You felt no shame in letting out a yelp of pain, but Jay kept going. Good. You wanted him to burn you completely, to leave a scar. You felt that heat grow within you, spreading from your core to your heart to your neck. Jay dug the cigarette into your skin the same way you had done to him. He tossed the butt aside. Then he licked the wound, his cool tongue acting as a balm against the searing pain. Jay swirled his tongue around the circular scar, and you whimpered. 

“You like that?” Jay whispered, both hands running up and down the side of your body.

You hated to lie. “Yeah.”

“Then get to work.” He sat up, so that he was on his knees. You lifted yourself off of the ground as well. Your lips met his expectant mouth, and he tasted like ashes. Jay’s hands remained on your waist, stroking you lightly. It was the first real kiss you had ever initiated, and you weren’t entirely sure where to put your hands. Jay picked up on your apprehension and guided your hands down to his belt.

It was difficult, getting his belt off in the darkness, but you managed to figure it out. “Touch me,” Jay said. 

“How?” 

“Just…” Jay sighed. He placed one of his hands over yours and showed you how to rub him over his pants. “Like that. You don’t have to touch it directly right now.” With that, he resumed kissing you, leaving you to palm his crotch. It was fascinating, feeling his cock harden under your hand like that. You applied a little more pressure, and Jay groaned into your mouth. “Yeah, like that.”

You felt his fingers dance over your knees, along your thighs, and pause by your panties. “No one’s ever touched you here, right?” he asked, whispering against your ear. “Like this?”

“Just me,” you said quietly. 

“I didn’t think you fucked yourself,” Jay said quietly. “How often?”

“Depends…” As you talked, Jay had started to rub your engorged clit through your underwear. 

“Mm. What do you think about?”

“I don’t know,” you said. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton. 

“Keep rubbing me,” Jay whispered. “Don’t slack off, now. Tell me what you think about when you’re cumming your pretty little head off.”

“I read…erotica,” you admitted quietly.

Jay laughed, but it didn’t sound as cruel as it usually did. “Of course you do. You read those bodice-rippers where the innocent little maiden gets pounded by some asshole while she cries, ‘No, no!’, right?”

You bit your lip, and he stroked your clit faster. “Don’t get shy on me now,” Jay said, “we were really getting somewhere. So you fuck yourself to books like that? Do you imagine yourself as the innocent little maiden, is that it? Hoping someone will just push your legs apart and fuck you? Is that what the prude thinks about?”

You didn’t speak, so Jay removed his fingers. “Tell me,” he muttered. “Tell me and I’ll let you cum. Tell me the truth.”

Rationality had left you long ago. You used to look down upon people who would throw away their lives and relationships for quick pleasure, but now all you wanted was for Jay to drive you to the edge, make you cum. “If you’re really good,” Jay whispered, “I’ll fuck you slow this time. I’ll be real gentle.”

“I do,” you said, wincing at your own weakness. “I do imagine myself as her. I want someone to…”

Jay kissed your lips once, twice, three times. “Say it,” he said, two of his fingers stroking your clit at an excruciatingly close pace. 

“I want someone to fuck me,” you said finally. 

“Of course you do,” Jay said, still teasing you. “You liked it when I fucked you, right? You liked that I took what I wanted from you. Admit it.”

If Jay was right regarding his fatalistic theory about humanity’s inability to change, then you were fucked. You hated to believe that this simpering desperation had been inside of you the entire time. “I liked it,” you said, head bowed.”

Jay removed his fingers again, and you looked at him with wide, confused eyes. “You said you’d let me cum.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, lowering his jeans, “you’re going to cum on my dick, and you’ll like it. You loved it last time.”

You tugged your panties down, wincing at the wet, shlicking noise they made. “Just let me do everything,” he said. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. 

Once more, your back hit the cool cement of the rooftop. Jay pulled your panties off completely, tossed them aside, and parted your legs. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. 

His cock teased your entrance before he plunged himself inside. Jay fucked your pussy shallowly this time, allowing himself to enjoy it. “Fuck, fuck, that’s good.” It was so much better now that you were wet. Instead of a harsh intrusion, it was more like a pleasant, warm fullness. You ached for him to go deeper. 

“More,” you murmured, and you heard Jay laugh. 

“More? You don’t want me to be gentle? You don’t want me to treat you with kid gloves?” Jay pulled his dick out of you completely, and you shook your head. 

“No, no, I want more, I want it…please.”

“Please,” Jay said, like it was the first time he’d ever heard the word. “Please. You’re killing me.” 

Jay slammed his cock inside of you, hitting you at an angle that made you see stars.  He gathered your wrists in one hand and held them above your head; the other hand braced itself beside you. Every thrust made you gasp with pleasure.

“Jake would fucking…kill himself…if he saw this shit,” Jay grunted, rutting his hips against yours. He was rough, just like the first time. He could hardly talk, speaking through gritted teeth. “If he saw his little crush in a fucking, fucking mating press…fuck…” 

Your gasps had turned into moans as he thrusted inside of you. You wished you could cover your mouth, but Jay still had your wrists pressed against the concrete. You bit your lip instead, trembling as you felt Jay tease the hard muscle of your cervix. You had never managed to get a good look at his cock, but you figured it had to be big. From the way he made Isa choke, to the way he was close to bottoming out. 

Jay used his other hand to squeeze your face. “No, you don’t,” he heaved. “You’re gonna moan for me. Moan like…like a whore. Like a good fucking whore.” 

The second you opened your mouth, you let out another desperate cry. “You love this,” Jay said, under your sweater. He groped your tits painfully, squeezing them like they were inanimate objects. “You love being treated like this, don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasped out. “I like it, Jay.”

“You love it.” He let go of your wrists, grabbed your hips, and moved you up and down his cock himself. With your free hands, you braced yourself on the ground. You could barely take it, but you loved the feeling of being pushed to the edge. 

“Close,” you panted out.

“Fuck,” Jay said. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

Jay paused, ever so briefly, before laughing. It was the first time you had ever heard him genuinely laugh; he tossed his head back and let loose as he held your hips. “You goofy bitch,” he said, pulling out of you. “Nearly made me lose my orgasm.” You let out a nervous laugh, unsure of what to do next. 

He sank deeply inside of you again, but he couldn’t stop giggling. “Where,” Jay muttered. You couldn’t bear to have him tease you anymore, so you kissed him. He reciprocated, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Soon, Jay had built up the same speed, and his kisses moved to your neck. 

“Gonna cum,” he warned, “where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you said, reaching down to play with your clit. 

“Right answer,” Jay said. He drove his cock to the hilt, frantically chasing his orgasm. You weren’t far behind, chills dancing all over your body. “Fuck, fuck, yes, fuck, yes, yes, fuck!”

You came mere seconds after he did, your pussy gripping him tightly. Your back arched as you let out a series of moans. They echoed into the night sky; everyone in Stoker could probably hear you.  You shuddered as you felt yourself clench around his girth over and over again. His hot cum painted your walls, and when you opened your eyes you saw Jay jerking himself off inside you, draining his balls. 

Jay rolled away from you, gasping. “Jesus fuck. I haven’t had a nut like that in…months.”

You crawled over to your jacket and collapsed on top of it. Jay joined you soon after, lying down on his own coat. If you spoke, you felt like you would make everything real. You shivered, both from the lingering aftershocks and from the chill outside. You realized that you had spent the last 4 nights running around storms and hurricanes. It was a wonder you hadn’t come down with hypothermia. 

“Cold?” Jay asked. You nodded, and Jay put his arm around you loosely. He rubbed your arm noncommittally before simply resting his hand on your skin.  

You stared at the night sky; Sadame wasn’t in the country, but it was far enough from the major cities that you could see a decent amount of stars. 

“There’s the North Star,” Jay said, pointing. “And that’s the big Dipper.”

You shifted to look at him. “You like stargazing?”

“Used to,” he said, facing you. “When my parents would fight, I would leave the house….head to the park near my house and lie on a hill. I’d lie on the grass there and just stare at the stars for hours.”

“You never got scared?”

“Nah,” Jay said. “They were scarier than whatever was out there.”

“When my parents fought, I would just read books,” you said. “I got good at blocking them out.”

“Hm. Where are your cigs?”

“One second.” You rummaged through your jacket’s pocket and procured your cigarettes and lighter. Jay took a cigarette, put one in his mouth and one in yours. He took your lighter and gestured for you to lean in. Jay lit both of your cigarettes at once and tossed you the lighter. 

Jay took a long drag and blew the smoke into the air. “What kinds of books did you read?”

You didn't have to think. “Mm…I liked fantasy books. Sci-fi. Anything different from reality. I liked Animorphs, too, actually.”

Jay chuckled. “Really? Those books with the covers of the kids turning into antelopes and shit?”

“Yeah,” you said. “They were pretty good. I was so envious of them, especially Rachel. Imagine how cathartic it would be to be able to turn into an elephant and stomp around.”

“Was that a very common power fantasy for you?”

“It was.” You imitated the sound of an elephant, and Jay snorted.

“You’re doing it again,” he said quietly. 

The smile dropped off of your face. “Doing what?”

“Quit playing dumb,” Jay said. As if he had been shocked, Jay rose to his feet and hurriedly put his coat on. You couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that washed over you. So he was going to leave you alone again, even after that.

“It’s cold as hell out here,” he said in an irritated voice. “Put your coat on. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“My room,” Jay said, jerking his head in the direction of Stoker. “I have a bottle of jack in there, if you aren’t tired.” He held his hand out, waving it impatiently. “Hurry up.”

Tomorrow, you would have to text Isa back. Tomorrow, you’d have to talk to Jake. Maybe you’d see Lily, get a smoothie. You’d go do your homework. 

Tomorrow, you’d have to reconcile with Mina’s story and how that would affect your burgeoning friendship with Jake. You'd have to figure out if Riki could be trusted in any capacity. You’d have to figure out what you were to Jay, and who Jay was to you. If you should be something to each other at all.

For today, you simply took Jay’s hand.

[parmahamlarrie]

Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Exes to Lovers fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

where we landed || @blueskiesrry || 70.4k Exes to Lovers, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Hometowns, Teacher Louis, Kidfic, Cancer, Past Mpreg

I was yours (I wish you were mine) || @harruandlou || 56.2k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Dyslexia, Librarian Harry, Rock Star Louis, Summer

Too Young To Know || @2tiedships2 || 35.4k   Omegaverse, Exes to Lovers, Lou has a boyfriend, Fluff and Angst

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet Series || @allwaswell16 || 34.3k Exes to Lovers, Kidfic, Famous/Non Famous, Chicago, Song Fic

Sometimes You Just Know || @2tiedships2 || 33.8k  Omegaverse, Soulmates, Exes to Lovers, Nesting

Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) || @greenblueish || 28k Hospital AU, Doctor Harry, Nurse Louis, Exes to Lovers

Heartbreak Anniversary || @brightgolden || 24.6k GBBO, Famous/Famous AU, Exes to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending

you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)

Thrill You Tonight || @stylesthebrave || 10.7k Vampire Louis, Exes to Lovers

It’s Been So Long || @littleroverlouis|| 10.6k Girl Direction, Exes to Lovers, Older Harry and Louis

We Saw Ed in Berlin, and I Watched It Begin Again || LilyBlue28 || 6k ** Canon, Euro 24, Exes to Lovers, Open Ending

Why WAS There a Street Sign on the Floor || @parmahamlarrie || 5.7k Exes to Lovers, Porn with Plot

Sweet Mondays || sweetkalachurchi || 3.5k ** Canon, Euro 24, Exes to Lovers, One Bed, Happy Ending

'Tis the Damn Season || @zanniscaramouche || 2.8k  Christmas, Angst, Exes with Benefits

now I’m one step closer || @harrystinyshorts || 2.6k Exes to Lovers, Chance Meeting, Butterflies

and in those rare moments || @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed || 2.1k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Singer Harry, Journalist Louis, Unique Structure

[puck-luck]

New Beginnings Masterlist

Welcome to Litchton, North Carolina! Population: 2, 358 "North Carolina's own little slice of Heaven."

Trevor Zegras wants a boring, drama-free summer with his friends. He and his friends rent a house in Litchton for thirteen weeks and find themselves fascinated by the town and its inhabitants. After a chance meeting their first day in town, Trevor finds himself enchanted by a mysterious and beautiful townie named Honey. He'll do anything he can to win her over– and he will win her over, even if she acts like she couldn't care less about his existence.

As for Honey, she's got a past she'd rather not rehash. She's spent the past five years in Litchton, living in her parents' old vacation house. She's inserted herself into the community and made a home here, the only place where she's ever felt like she can truly be herself. The appearance of five new boys in Litchton throws everything awry, especially Trevor's persistent efforts to win Honey over.

(note: all this graphic does is depict Honey and Bea as i(!!!!!!) see them. if you want to envision yourself as honey, go for it! if you want bea to look like your best friend, good! i never actually describe their features in the fic, so use your imagination!)

MASTERLIST:

may 27 - june 2 (24.4k)

june 3 - june 9 (20.9k)

june 10 - june 16 (24.6k)

june 17 - june 23 (24.2k)

june 24 - june 30 (24.1k)

july 1 - july 7 (26.7k)

july 8 - july 14 (29.5k)

july 15 - july 21 (20.8k)

july 22 - july 28 (22.1k)

july 29 - august 4

august 5 - august 11

august 12 - august 18

august 19 - august 25

OTHER NEED-TO-KNOWS:

this is how i envision the boys' home for the summer. this is how i envision honey's place. this & this are how i envision bea's place.

BEAQUINN ADD-ONS:

pool table sex after the nhl awards

hammock hookup during national "get out of the dog house" day

[donationwayne]

DONATIONWAYNE BUDDIE FIC MASTERPOST

Title: Miles and Miles Pairing: Buddie || Words: 6.6k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags: Seal!Buck, Returning Home From Deployment, Secret Relationship, Established Buddie, Married Buddie, Buck as Chris' Dad, Comedy, Fluff Synopsis: Three years after moving to LA Buck decides to surprise Chris and Eddie at the end of his final tour. Of course nothing goes according to plan. The 118 have a lot of thoughts about the mysterious Eddie Diaz.

_____ Title: Response Time Pairing: Buddie || Words: 2k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags: Established Buddie, Married Buddie, Secret Relationship, Buck & Eddie know each other before the 118, Buck as Chris' Dad, Comedy, Fluff

Synopsis: The 118 respond to a call, which isn’t unusual in itself. But it might explain a lot to Probational Firefighter Evan Buckley’s new crew. Eddie tries to burn the kitchen down.

_____

Title: Blame Me (For Mistakes You've Made But You Can't Own) Pairing: Buddie || Words: 4.5k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags: Sick!Buck, The 118 as Family, Pre-Relationship Buddie, Fluff, Comedy, Angst, Casual Mentions of Childhood Neglect & Trauma, Maddie Buckley as Evan Buckley's Parental Figure Synopsis: Buck goes into work sick and the 118 take care of him. We delve into Buck's complicated relationship with illness, due to his parents relationship with ill children.

_____

Title: I'm Alone In The City (And Nobodies Coming For Me) Pairing: Buddie, Bobby & Buck || Words: 18.1k || Chapters: 12/12 || Main Tropes & Tags: Bobby as Buck's Dad, Buck!Whump, Buck's Loft Burns Down, Discussion regarding Eddie's Will, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Angst with a happy ending Synopsis: The one where I burn Buck's loft down with Buck inside! When Buck wakes up cold, scared, and alone all he wants is Bobby (his dad). Buck and Eddie finally get their shit together.

_____

Title: Feelin' Good (Could be Better) Pairing: Buddie || Words: 24.6k || Chapters: 10/10 || Main Tropes & Tags: Emotional Whump!Buck, Athena Grant and Bobby Nash are Evan "Buck" Buckley and Maddie Buckley's Parents, Angsty!Buck, Margaret Buckley is her own warning, angst with intermittent fluff, mutual pining, Protective Eddie Diaz, Outing, Margaret Buckley and Phillip Buckley Bashing

Synopsis: The Buckley parents arrive in LA, turning Buck's already shaky mental status from precarious to worse. Buck consents to join Maddie, Chimney, and his parents for dinner. Buck is super fine, he'll just bake about it. And think about kissing Eddie, obviously. Secrets are revealed, leaving the 118 reeling.

Authors note: **This fic deals with Margaret Buckley as a emotionally and physically abusive parent. (Trigger Warnings Available or msg me)

_____

Title: punch my face (do it because i like the pain) Pairing: Buddie || Words: 3.7k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags: Emo/Alternative Teenage Evan Buckley, Athena Grant and Bobby Nash are Evan "Buck" Buckley and Maddie Buckley's Parents, Evan "Buck" Buckley & May Grant are Siblings, Fluff, The 118 As Family, Mention of Eddie's Will,

Synopsis: When faced with a potentially abusive father on a call, Buck goads the man into punching him to keep the kids with their mother. The 118 learn a little bit about Buck as a teenager.

This is mostly fluff. Maddie and Buck make jokes at their own expense.

_____

Title: this could be a disaster Pairing: Buddie || Words: 15.9k || Chapters: 11/11 || Main Tropes & Tags: Wedding Fluff, Christopher Diaz is a Little Shit, Brief Tsunami Flashback, Canon Divergence, Clipboard!Evan Buckley, Groomzilla Evan Buckley, Everything That Could Go Wrong Does

Synopsis: Light hearted romcom about Buck and Eddie's wedding day, which was it turns out is a disaster. Nearly everything that could go wrong does go wrong. Chris is sarcastic about it. Maddie is going to kill them if they sneak off to see each other more time. Bobby and Athena are Buck's parents. The lesbians save the day. Business as usual.

_____

Title: obsessed with the things that you do, low-key I need you to move (in) Pairing: Buddie || Words: 27.8k || Chapters: 9/9 || Main Tropes & Tags: Teenage Chris, Canon Divergent Post-Season 6, Eddie Goes to Therapy, Eddie Adopts A Cat, Mutual Pining, Angst and Fluff, Coming Out, Gay Eddie Diaz, Bisexual Evan Buckley, Christopher Diaz is a little shit

Synopsis: Eddie adopts a cat while Chris is away summer camp. He goes to therapy and comes out to his parents. He continues navigating life post gay realization while being deeply and embarrassingly in love with his best friend.

Buck pines over Eddie.

Chris figures it only a matter of time before they finally get together.

_____

Title: come on, you can show yourself Pairing: Buddie || Words: 8.7k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags: Coming Out, Blow-Job Gone Wrong, Mutual Pining, Gay Eddie Diaz, Bisexual Evan Buckley, Eddie & HenRen bestieism, Getting Together, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Eddie tells HenRen about his Will, Eddie sees footage of Buck during the Well collapse

Synopsis: Eddie goes to a gay bar, says Buck's name during a hook up, curses Frank extensively, and comes out to Hen and Karen. They talk about the will and the well and the Buck of it all. Also Buck shows up.

_____

Title: Because Regardless Of How Soft The Touch, I Still Bruise Pairing: Pre-Relationship Buddie || Words: 3.3k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags:

Bobby Nash is Evan "Buck" Buckley's Parent, Worried Bobby Nash, Athena Grant is Evan "Buck" Buckley's Parent, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, past self-harm, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Margaret Buckley and Phillip Buckley Bashing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: After sustaining an injury on shift, Buck stays with Bobby and Athena while he recovers. They discover some hard truths about Buck's childhood.

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Title: Backtrack Pairing: Pre-Relationship Buddie || Words: 3.3k || Chapters: 1/1 || Main Tropes & Tags: 07x09 Spec, Implied Pre-Relationship Buddie, Worried Buck, Buck has a feeling realization, Angst, Divorce Era 2.0

Synopsis: Speculation about what could happen if Buck finds out about Kim (S7x09). Buck catches Eddie in public with Kim, he confronts Eddie about it. He also has some feelings about it.

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

It's that time of turning another year older. These days, I totally appreciate chill days. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to relax and enjoy the small things like a good cuppa, reading some comics or fic, poking at cute crochet things and having some delicious food.

Since it's become a tradition to share fic recs and my heart has been pretty gone on Stiles and Derek for a while, this year I'm sharing 14 Teen Wolf Sterek fic recs that I absolutely love reading again and again. Yes...that was very hard to narrow down out of my...who the hell knows how many bookmarks I have. 😂 Anyway, whether you need a pick-me-up, want something new to add to your TBR, or you really need your fix of our dumb boys, I've gotchu! Make sure to give these authors some kudos, comments and love! [P.S. If folks are looking for their fix of HP fics...I may swoop in a little later this month to make an HP summer reading list. Lmk if that's something y'all would like to see!] Happy reading, and enjoy!

🎈 heart-flower by hoars (T, 4.7k)- Flowers, Soul Manifestation, Flower Romance, Black Cat, mental health, allergic reactions, Suicidal Thoughts, Maiming, Car Accidents, Hallucinations, Courtship

Heart-flowers are a reflection of your heart, mind and soul, if you're a romantic. Scientists call them a reflection of mental and emotional health instead. As long as you're happy or content, the flower is healthy too. But if you're distraught the petals will close or brown. It depends person to person, emotion to emotion. When Derek tells Stiles to take care of it, he means, take care of me.

🎈 A Growl-to-English Dictionary by churkey | @churkey (T, 14.9k )- Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Derek Hale Leaves Beacon Hills, Derek Hale Leaves, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Darkness Around The Heart, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, He's a Failhuman, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Werewolf Mates, Mates, Werewolf Culture

In which Derek finds his words and Stiles learns to growl.

🎈 One Hundred Miles an Hour in Reverse by suburbanmotel (M, 24.6k)- Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Insomnia, Panic Attacks, Depression, Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Boys Kissing, Blood, Injury, Blood and Injury, Mental Health Issues, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Character Death

Stiles understands that leaving is hard. He understands because Stiles always understands. Leaving is hard, got it. Check. But late at night, alone in the dark in the quiet with the shadows, alone with his thoughts and his shallow, slightly panicked breathing, he also understands that it’s always harder for the people left behind. * Five years after everything, after everyone is gone, Stiles remains, because someone has to, right? He’s become good at staying, at being ok with staying, because he’s good at what he does and so many people need him here. So, he’s stayed and he does what he’s always done best: he figures things out. He figures things out and he makes lists, lists of spells, lists of magical herbs, lists of people who have left. He also makes lists about himself. Stiles is: the fixer, the writer, the librarian, the keeper of words and memories in Beacon Hills. He’s a healer, a helper and he remembers. He remembers everything.

🎈 Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup (G, 14.4k)- Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Meet-Cute, Meet Awkward, Professor Derek Hale, Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Romantic Comedy, alternate Derek Hale backstory, Stiles Wears Glasses, Derek Wears Glasses, Derek walks with a cane, Disabled Character, Fake/Pretend Relationship, With a twist!

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles…what are you doing right now?”

🎈 The Witching Hour by loserchildhotpants | @loserchildhotpants (T, 8.3k)- Radio, Romance, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Alternate Universe - Human, Music, Humor

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born [Or: A radio show brings Stiles and Derek together, even though they've never met before]

🎈 Windows by dr_girlfriend | @drgrlfriend (E, 83.3k)- AU, Disability, Disabled Character, Misunderstandings, Angst, Fluff, Blind Character, Blind Stiles, Eventual Smut, Derek is a creeper, derek has no social skills, In Other Words Canon!Derek, Epilepsy, seizure disorder, Panic Attack, Happy Ending, Alternate Universe, Slow Build, Pack Feels, Slow Burn, Communication, Ableist Language, Demisexuality, Demisexual Derek Hale, Families of Choice, Found Families, POV Derek Hale, Friends to Lovers, Body Dysphoria, Alpha Derek, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek is a socially awkward potato, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Good Pack Alpha Derek Hale

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking. * “You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails. “Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.” “Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered. “What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —” “Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.” “Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

🎈 Wolves in the Timber by adeepeningdig | @adeepeningdig (T, 17.2k)- Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feral Derek, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Dog Fighting, Rated For Violence, Full Shift Werewolves

Stiles had always thought that Derek would understand, maybe. If Derek had been around to talk about it. He would know what it was like to think that maybe it wasn’t a fluke, maybe there’s something in you, something twisted that pulls blood and betrayal and death to you, like a remnant of your mother’s disease, her monstrous confusion, still encoded in your genes. Stiles still dreams of that day in the loft, the water lapping at his ankles and the dirty light. Derek’s stricken face. He wonders if there are days when Derek wants to tear his own hands off too. But Derek wasn’t around, and now he’s a wolf. So. He’s 28 years old, it’s been years. He’s past all that. He should be past all that. There’s a black wolf panting on the floor of his apartment like an accusation. Stiles knows that there’s nothing that Lydia can say or do. He’s not projecting, it’s the truth, it’s the kinship he’s always felt with Derek, and if he could curl into his animal self, he would, and maybe he would stay there. It would be easier that way.

🎈 Way Back Home by matildajones | @matildajones (T, 14.2k)- Alternate Universe - Human, Kidnapping, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, PTSD Derek, Anxiety Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, End Sterek, We like Heather though, getting better

He wasn’t ever expecting to get out of that hellhole, and he always wondered about Stiles. He wondered – even hoped – that he would move on.

🎈 Bones Straining Under the Weight by weathervaanes (E, 15.6k) deaf!derek, Food Blogger!Derek, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe

One of Stiles' favorite things about life is Derek Hale's food blog. He never expects to meet the man in person. * “Derek,” he says again, and the name feels very strange on his tongue. “You don’t mean Derek Hale.” His professor’s eyebrows reach up, eyes widening. “You read his blog?” "Uh. Worship. Would be a better more descriptive word. That is Derek Hale?" Jimmy chuckles. "Good-looking guy, huh?" "You mean to tell me the Food Network hasn't snatched him up to dethrone everyone else from daytime TV." Jimmy smiles a small private smile. "I don't think TV is his medium." Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Shy?" The man laughs heartily at that. "No, I wouldn't say that. He just has particular forms of expression, like eyebrows and chili powder."

🎈 A Healing Silence by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | @insecure-neurotic-control-freak (Not Rated, 36.3k)- Depression, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Eichen | Echo House, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek Hale & Lydia Martin Friendship, Reunions

Stiles is slowly pushed out of the pack following his fight with Scott about Donovan's death. After receiving a phone number from an old friend, Stiles is surprised to find that it belongs to the one person who may be able to bring him back to himself.

🎈 36 Questions by Leslie_Knope (T, 8.1k)- POV Stiles, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, First Kiss, Talking, like a lot of talking, Emotions

“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.” “That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?” “Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.” “Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs. “Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”

🎈 like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me by allyasavedtheday (T, 8.4k)- Future Fic, Derek Comes Back, Fluff, Emotional Healing, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Derek Hale, Rebuilding the Hale House, (kind of), Hale Family Feels

Stiles is the only one who hasn’t spoken yet and when Derek looks away from Isaac he finds him appraising him, a look on his face like he’s cataloguing Derek for invisible injuries. (Or injuries that have long since healed, maybe.) He’s older now, obviously, but he’s never lost that shrewd ability to appear as if he’s picking Derek apart with just one look. Eventually though, a slow smile spreads across his face. “Good to see you again, big guy.” Derek huffs a laugh and then promptly bites back a smile when he sees Stiles’ eyes light up at the sound. “You too,” he replies, his voice that strange mixture of resigned and fond that only ever seems to come out when he’s talking to Stiles. * Derek comes back to Beacon Hills almost four years after he left it. Alternatively titled: Derek Hale finally finds some peace.

🎈 Days Like This by rlnerdgirl | @rlnerdgirl (M, 18.8k)- Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Derek Comes Back, Post-College AU, S3/S4 Divergent

Returning to Beacon Hills is a big step for Derek. He's starting his own business, rebuilding his old family home, and enjoying the feeling of being home. When he runs into the Sheriff and finds himself invited to a Stilinski family dinner, it's not nearly as strange as he would have expected, and when Stiles starts becoming a regular part of his new life, it only feels natural. * The first thing Derek notices is that Stiles is taller. The second is that he’s more filled out. This shouldn’t be a surprise. Not living in Beacon Hills doesn’t stop the machine of social media, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen pictures, but it’s different in person. Stiles, now Derek’s height, maybe an inch taller, still has the same wide smile and loose-limbness about him that he did when he was in high school. Between the height and the muscles though, this Stiles wouldn’t make anyone second guess that he played lacrosse. The only thing people would second guess about this Stiles is the fact that he was always on the bench.

🎈 Blind Date With A Book by thepsychicclam (M, 30.4k)- Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alive Hale Family, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Board Games, Meddling Hales, Human Hales, Slow Build

Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books. Derek didn't know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.

[imagine-that-100]

Chicken Shop Date | Part 3 |

By @imagine-that-100​​ and @alovesreading​​

Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.

Word Count: 24.6k

A/N: Bestiessss, we’re backkkk!!! And this new part is a good one, it might be my favourite. Me and A have become obsessed with Matty and Baby’s story (Yes, she got a cute nickname like Wheels and it stuck lol) and we can’t wait to share more. There’s going to be at least 6 parts to this story as we can’t stop writing. We really hope you enjoy this new part as much as we do and thank you so much for reading  x

| Part 1 | Part 2 | 

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

The day Being Funny dropped, you’re sure you listened to it through at least 30 times. Both listening to it completely transfixed like you were the first time, and having it on in the background when your best friend came around.

When Amelia came to yours, you got so deep into recounting the events of the night before that you didn’t realise what the time was when your phones started blowing up. Your storytelling had distracted you from realising the date and that your scheduled video of yours and Matty’s chicken shop date had been posted, it was finally out for everyone to see.

The both of you had to pause your story to post on all your social media platforms and when that was done, you sighed looking back up to your best friend who is already looking at you in desperate need for you to continue talking. When you finished telling her, she was gobsmacked at every little detail, from Matty phoning you to come back into the venue, to him kissing you outside your building and following you inside, to holding his hand during the album, to him climbing into your bed and the both of you sleeping beside each other.

She asked if you were going to message him, and you shook your head as you remembered he mentioned New Years before he left. It gave you that little bit of hope that he would want that second date. The last thing you want to do is message him and annoy him and blow your chance.

It was needless to say that yours and Matty’s chicken shop date blew up. The response from it ended up being fucking insane and obviously the fact that you kissed on camera had the fans going feral.

You were getting messages from everyone about it, endless people saying it was your best date yet. Even Amelia’s Mum texted her about the date, saying, She really hit the jackpot with this date but he’s definitely a heartbreaker 🥰🍾

It made you cackle when Amelia posted that on her instagram story and tagged you with a caption that read, Linda, so is she!!!!!!!

Despite the date blowing up, your hard work had been done after you posted everything on your socials and you posted the picture that you took of the cigarette that you stubbed out amongst your food and you tagged Matty, but other than that you hadn’t messaged him.

You didn’t think anything of tagging him, and you certainly didn’t expect a response as he should be partying again because it’s his album release day. But when you got into bed that night at about 1am you see that he’s replied to you.

Tasty x

In a little panic, you chose to not reply to him because honestly you really didn’t know what to say. It was definitely too late and you were too tired to be attempting to come up with a flirty response that probably wasn’t going to earn you a response.

The following day, you had a few things to do in the morning, but you had decided that early afternoon you’d wanted to go to The 1975 pop up shop on Brick Lane in Truman Brewery. A full shop filled with 1975 merch was actually a dream of yours and there is no way you wouldn’t be going.

You wanted to set off from your flat at midday, but Amelia phoned you to go over some details for an upcoming date she had and you ended up running ideas back and forth with each other for an hour. It was just after 1pm when you bid each other goodbye and you got your phone out to check train times on City Mapper to see when was best to head out as if you weren’t on the phone you would have most definitely been there by now.

However, when you were checking for when was best to leave your flat, you got an Instagram notification from a fan account - because yes, you follow those - and you see that all of the band have just rocked up at the pop up shop. You’re eternally grateful that Amelia phoned you now and delayed you because you can’t even begin to imagine the embarrassment you would have felt if Matty caught you at their pop up shop too.

When you eventually got to the pop up, it was thankfully a lot quieter than it was earlier. You decided to just give it a few more hours, knowing that the shop was open a little later than the others so you could just browse the merch to your heart's content when you got there.

There were only a few people in there beside you, and because you were taking your time pretty much picking up one of everything of the smaller items. You ended up getting yourself the distressed crewneck that Matty had been wearing quite a bit on his story too, as you quite like their new logo.

Your haul ended up with you getting that crewneck, ‘the band’ long sleeve top, a few logo stickers, badges, a few rolling papers, the zine, and a tote bag to put everything in. It was yet another day of being swindled of your money by your favourite band. But alas, you’d do it all again because the store was stunning.

There were big prints of the band on the wall, all of them glorious and like they deserve to be in a gallery. The merch was set out neatly with the car that is on the album in the centre of the room, looking absolutely glorious.

Because the store was closing up, the woman who was serving recognised you and the two of you started chatting for a little bit. She complimented you on how funny your date with Matty was and although the mere thought of the date still has your cheeks heating up, you thank her.

As she was so lovely, and because it was only you and one other person in the shop at that point, you asked her if she could possibly take a few pictures of you next to the car and thankfully she agreed.

The lovely woman even moved the barrier out of the way too so you could get a proper picture even though you told her it wasn’t necessary. She told you it was fine and if you took a few pics for her too she really didn’t mind which you agreed to.

Feeling a little childish about it actually being the car from the album cover, you posed like Matty does but you were standing beside the car instead of on top of it. You took a few of you smiling normally beside the car and smiling too and another of you crouching down pointing at La Poesie Est Dans La Rue that was written on the side in chalk.

When you got home around 8pm, you ended up posting the picture of you doing the same pose as Matty and you promised yourself that this will be the last time you tag him in anything. You really liked the picture because despite your hair being flicked over half of your face you could see your smile peaking out between your hair, so that had to be the one to post.

And you posted it with the caption:

Now the ruckus has gone… There’s something I've been meaning to say to you baby, but I just can’t do it… I’m too busy listening to the best album of 2022!

(until a different Car comes along next week anyway)

Stream Being Funny In A Foreign Language and @trumanblack, I think I did it better x

It was a little on the nose with the I’m In Love With You lyric, but the picture was cheesy too so your caption had to match. And that night, after you make and eat your dinner, you’re a little startled when you next pick up your phone and see that Mr Truman Black himself has messaged you again.

You little shit, you purposefully didn’t go when I was there today, didn't you? But yes I guess you did do it better x

Thanks for the free promo btw, now post the longer date x

The way you feel yourself blush at the messages is unlike the way you’ve ever reacted to

Electing to ignore the first half of his message, you just end up replying:

You gotta get number 1 first, now get to bed you have a signing tomorrow x

And the snarky but beautiful bastard ends up messaging you back and asking:

You coming to that too? xx

Snorting, you just giggle as you can hear the way he’s asking it. You give it a few minutes before opening the message and typing: You wish xx and you send it off to him without a second thought.

And Matty’s reply comes through just a minute later, and you leave it to sit in your DMs, unread, as you see he responds: I do xxx

Needless to say, you don’t end up going to their signing the day after, not that you were planning to anyway. Your schedule got quite busy after at the same time that the band was going on tour so there were no other interactions from then on.

Something which you don’t mind about, because the delusional hope you have for the New Years date happening really keeps you going. And your life somehow keeps getting more mind-bogglingly more star studded.

Of course, The 1975’s new album ended up reaching number 1 in the UK official charts, so as promised, you ended up posting the full version, which you titled, Matty Healy (The 1975) | Chicken Shop Date | Spicy Edition |

In this spicy edition of the date, you included everything. All the inappropriate jokes that were made with the additional awkward cuts added of the chicken shop you were in. And the reaction was feral.

Obviously, you confirmed with the band’s manager Jamie that this was okay to post, but you never expected it to blow up again. You were thankful that everyone seemed to enjoy it even more than the original and you were thankful for the silence on Matty’s end because watching the full thing back made you lose your mind all over again.

Thankfully, you had work to do to keep yourself from dying from second hand embarrassment eating you alive. Both you and Amelia were asked to be the hosts on the red carpet of the British GQ Awards which was so much fun for you.

You had been shaking and silently freaking out to each other as you got your makeup and hair done, thinking about who’d be there, but once at the red carpet you’d had to keep it cool and it was hard when you saw all the people approaching you.

Throughout the night you were doing tiny toasts on the carpet with willing participants who were the famous faces you were interviewing. Your favourite and most shocking of the night was talking to Andrew Garfield.

Neither you or Amelia could believe he knew who you were, let alone the fact that he commented on how much he appreciates your chicken shop date series. There was no doubt that when he said he would do one that you both jumped on it, agreeing immediately with dumbfounded looks on your faces.

He was your favourite though because he joined you in bullying Amelia for the rubber dress she was wearing and the fact that she liked Andrew’s armpits which came about from her saying he looked hot in that one specific photoshoot. He was so genuinely lovely that you really hope that date with him does come around because you’re sure your heart stopped the moment he came over and called the both of you beautiful. You will be fighting your best friend for that date.

On the carpet you greet other legends like Stormzy, Louis Theroux, and Sydney Sweeney. During Sydney’s interview you were trying not to combust because you fancy the woman so much and she looked incredible. It was hard not to fall to your knees for her when she commented on how much she loved your dress.

Paul Mescal came over to the both of you as well and you really had to bite your tongues with him because both he and the both of you know that his girlfriend Phoebe Bridgers was due to have her date with you soon. In the biggest whiplash, you go from having Paul beside you to Aitch, and whilst it wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t exactly the most fun of your interviews.

Well, it sort of was for you because you got to chuckle at the pair's half awkward interactions with each other. When him being on tour is mentioned, you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes because of how lads holiday it sounds, but he is a lovely person so you’re not too fussed. You just had to be grateful he didn’t string your best friend along.

The award for your most awkward interaction that night was with none other than Joseph Quinn. You adore him and lowkey fancy him too so you really tried to keep it as normal as the rest of your interviews.

Like with your chicken shop dates, you and your best friend have a little awkward undertone to your interviews this evening to maintain your ‘personas’. But it became quickly apparent by the end of your interview that Joe had no fucking clue who the two of you were or what you do for a living.

So when you asked if he preferred being the big spoon or a little spoon, and he replied with big spoon, you told him that you were a little spoon. Your ‘that works’ comment will definitely live to haunt you for the rest of your days, because he clearly didnt know that uncomfortable flirting is your literal job, and when he walked away after you wished him a great night there was a clear ‘what the fuck’ in his eyes.

And it haunted you so much that when you were inside at the awards and you saw him again after the ceremony, you had to go over and explain yourself and apologise. Bless the man, he was so lovely with you and he told you that he wasn’t freaked out by you at all and that he knew you were joking. He even apologised for making you feel like you’d offended him and you shook your head telling him that it really wasn’t his fault and that you were just worried.

It struck up a conversation about your chicken shop dates where he admitted he hadn’t actually watched any yet but he knew of them. It was a really nice conversation before he got pulled away to someone else wanting his attention, but you were just pleased that you got to tell him that you really appreciated his acting in both Stranger Things and the characters you’d seen him play in films beforehand and you each wished each other well before saying goodbye.

After the GQ Awards, both you and Amelia felt like you could take a breather. That was by far your most high profile job yet and you were so excited that 2023 was going to have even more on the cards for the both of you.

The rest of this year you’re ready to face in high spirits as there’s so much to look forward to. A Miu Miu party, various other amazing celebrity dates that you’re so beyond excited for, the fashion awards.

You’re so excited.

Happiness bubbles inside you when you’re in bed and ready to go to sleep, mindlessly scrolling through twitter when you find clips from the latest The 1975 show. You laugh at his antics when he plays with the crowd, saying funny shit in the TooTime autotune or plainly just messing about with the fans and their signs.

Your heart swells in your chest and with a sigh of content, you lock your phone and put it to charge to finally go to sleep.

Everything was looking up and you were truly convinced nothing could bring you down from the state of immense bliss you were currently in. But how little you thought about the fact that anything could happen on tour comes to bite you back later.

~*~*~*~ 26th November ~*~*~*~

Waking up on a Saturday morning after having a nice lie in was meant to be the best part of your week as it usually always was. With things only planned for around 2pm you knew you could laze about in bed all morning and not have to rush at all, you could stay on your phone and endlessly scroll to your heart's content.

However, that isn’t how this morning turned out for you.

After waking up properly when your eyes weren’t getting heavy again, you reached for your phone which you left on charge last night. And when you opened instagram, the first thing you saw was The 1975 tour content from their show in Vegas last night. When you started watching, it was wholesome, the band seemingly having a great time on stage, but then when the next video came on you felt something in your chest die a cold death.

You watched a 20 second video that changed your whole day for the worst.

Matty had pulled a fan on stage, a pretty girl, and he kissed her before the ‘now everybody’s dead’ line in Robbers and you genuinely think your heart breaks the tiniest bit.

You try to fool yourself that it isn’t that big of a deal, because it truly isn’t but when you masochistically watch it again, you feel your chest tightening even more and you just cannot bear to catch another glimpse of the moment.

It’s not even the fact that he’s kissed someone that makes you the most upset, it’s the fact Robbers is the song he was performing when he did it that does your heart in.

You’re so overwhelmed by the mix of feelings inside you at the moment: heartache because of course you fancy the man, you have since you were 19, jealousy because there isn’t an atom in you that doesn’t want to be that girl, and just plain pity for yourself because why are you feeling this much despair over it?

Trying to laugh it off, you just shake your head. “Pathetic.” You say to yourself under your breath, to slightly bully yourself into getting over it but as the day went on, you realise that was easier said than done.

Not when the internet had seemed to explode and you were mentioned in every social media platform under the video left, right and centre. You know Amelia has already seen it because she’s retweeted a Pop Craze tweet about it and added a comment that you don’t care to look at right this second.

But at least you don’t feel alone in your melancholy because along with you lots of other fans were reacting like you, which made you feel the tiniest bit better.

It hadn’t been enough, though, since your mood hadn’t picked up after that because you needed to go into central to get some Christmas shopping done but you were in no mood for it at all.

On top of your wonderful outlook on life today, the underground was fucking packed, leaving you in an even worst mood than when you left your flat. The journey was no better and the things that on any other day you wouldn’t bat an eyelid at, they really pissed you off.

People were being annoying, typical south London crackheads on the tube, but you thought that once you were off the trains you’d be alright, but no. Your chest has been feeling tight and incredibly heavy since you saw the videos but everything just seems to be out to get you today.

When you’re out shopping, you realise you’ve started your period which explains a lot of your feelings today but it didn’t help with anything, in fact the pain of the first day made everything worse. The main present you went out to get today for Amelia was out of stock and when they told you that they could order it to the store for you or you could order it to be delivered you really wanted to be a karen about it and tell them that you’d had a wasted trip out and that it was stupid that it still says it’s in stock online when it in fact isn’t.

To make the trip slightly more fulfilling, you shopped about for other people’s Christmas gifts but by the time you got anything decent, you needed to head to a different borough of London to go your Chicken Shop Offices as you and the team call them.

You had all of the promo content and the last of the editing to do for Amelia’s latest date with Meekz which was actually quite funny. But what wasn’t funny was everyone's faces as you walked into the office.

When you saw the text from Amelia earlier asking, Have you seen…????, you wanted to turn your phone off and not turn it back on. You blatantly ignored her like you did her earlier tweet, entirely not in the mood.

When you got to the office after your shopping trip, Amelia was already there and you could tell she was going to start joking around but you told her up front, “I’m really not in the mood so please just don’t.”

And before she can further try and joke like you know she’s about to, you explain yourself, “I know it's irrational and it’s stupid of me but please just don’t.”

She just puts her hands up, her lips pressed together as she tries to feign innocence and you sigh softly in relief when she keeps quiet as you put your stuff down.

Still, Amelia can only keep her mouth shut for a few minutes because when you have pulled out your laptop and opened the editing software to start importing the clips from the latest date, she just needs to take the piss out of you a little bit.

“What do you think about your man kissing a fan on stage?” Her playful smirk is radiating on her face, impossible to miss even when you’re just seeing her out of the corner of your eye.

You roll your eyes, entirely done with the topic and wanting to drop it already, “I think he can do whatever he wants, it’s none of my business.”

You see Amelia opening her mouth to say something else but before you find yourself in a situation where you’re snapping at her, you cut her advances, “Did we come here to chat about the 1975’s tour or did we come to edit a video?”

She freezes in her place for a quick second before answering with a slightly confused tone, “Editing, obviously.”

“Why don’t we get back to it then?” You give her a tight lip smile that is definitely forced and Amelia notes that, instantly knowing not to bring the conversation up again, at least not at the moment.

The team around both you and Amelia start giving you shit too, some of them even distracting you from the tasks at hand by calling you over for something to check on, making you believe it was about work when it was just the video again. You played the part and laughed at it, waving it off like you should be doing despite it feeling like a dagger going into your heart.

Another of your friends shouts over to you and tells you that you should call him for an explanation, to which you end up jokingly reminding them that your date with him wasn’t real and he can do whatever he likes. It gets worse when another member of your team finds the girl that he kissed’s twitter account and he reads her anecdote aloud.

You had it in you to chuckle a little when you hear that she held up her phone which read, ‘So we making out?’ and you can’t help but think how funny it is that he’s that easy to get when it means that it’ll get him a reaction.

And even though your colleague tells you that the girl is apparently married herself, it does nothing to ease the ache in your chest. It feels beyond foolish of you at this point but you guess you’re allowed to have a bad day every once in a while with no questions asked. It just so happens everyone around you knows what’s triggered this one.

Someone ends up joking, “They’re both cheaters, they deserve each other.” which does make you silently chuckle, but Amelia fully cackles at it. Her heart is bleeding for you as she can see how much you clearly don’t want to be here right now.

As soon as it hits 6pm, her arms fly around your neck as she tightly hugs you from behind and leans around you to kiss your cheek before whispering and asking if you’re alright. You lean into your best friend, truthfully needing the affection she’s giving you, but you’re pleased it’s not a proper hug because you genuinely believe you would just burst out into tears, and that’s the last thing you want to do.

Your best friend asks you if you want her to come to your flat and you thank her but decline her offer. You just explain that you want to get into bed and sleep because your period pain still hasn’t left despite the painkillers you’ve taken.

And that she understands entirely so after she hugs once again, you make sure all your work is saved and you wrap everything up in the office.

The fact that you’re now going back home has your mood lifting up a little bit, so you gather your shopping bags and wave everyone goodbye with a smile on your face.

As you’re walking to the tube station you go back on Twitter, your mentions are still blowing up as they have been all day and you’re faced once again with a tweet that you’d ignored since you got the notification.

Amelia had retweeted a celebrities update page, which had tweeted about the kiss, with a simple, Interesting that had lots of people asking about how you were doing in the comments.

It felt weird to think about that many people getting the tiniest bit of worry about you, even as a joke, over something so trivial but it was the attention you indirectly got from the moment that kept you feeling worse.

You know Amelia didn’t tweet that out to make your mood worse, you know her far too well to know that through jokes is the way that she copes and this could be a silent attempt of her for you to take it playfully so it wouldn’t bring you down so much.

That’s why to try and make yourself feel better, you bite the bullet and decide to join in on the jokes. You manage to quickly type, Ending the year with a bang! Getting (parasocially) cheated on 😍 before getting on the tube and it immediately blows up.

All the replies you were getting were making you silently laugh, some remarks even making you have to cover your mouth not to snort out loud for everyone around you to hear.

Once you’re out of the tube, with multiple shopping bags in hand you think it’s best if you order yourself an uber for the rest of the way home. In a matter of 2 minutes the driver has picked you up and you’re thankfully only less than 10 minutes home.

Your phone pings again with more notification flooding in. You read more funny replies when you get to someone’s tweet saying, Don’t bother me, listening to Phoebe Bridgers and crying myself to sleep, thanks.

That has an idea coming to your head, so to commit even more to the bit now, you rest your forehead against the taxi’s window and stare out to take a picture. It looks like a scene from a heartbreaking pop song music video from the early 2000s and that’s exactly what you’re aiming for.

With a small grin, you prepare your Instagram story which consists of the picture you just took and ‘Moon Song’ by Phoebe Bridgers playing in the background, purposely on the first verse so people can hear the verse ‘Stuck your tongue down the throat of somebody / Who loves you more / So I will wait for the next time you want me / Like a dog with a bird at your door’ to make it even more dramatic.

After uploading it, you lock your phone and watch the streets pass by as you get to your flat. It’s when you’ve finally gotten to unlock your door and you’re toeing your shoes off when Amelia texts you, I take it you’re feeling better then? and even though you do feel better, there’s still that nagging feeling deep in your chest that has you asking for more comfort to fully relax after such a day.

You quickly reply to Amelia before undressing and getting under the shower, knowing that every time you feel down, it only takes standing under the waterfall to have your spirits lifting up.

The rest of the day, you decide will be to just pamper yourself and so you put on a show as you make yourself tea, relishing in the calm you now feel within yourself.

In a different timezone, Matty wakes up when his alarm goes off at 2pm which was an hour and a half before he had to be leaving his hotel room.

As soon as every single one of the 16 people who are sleeping on the band’s bus got on board last night, they were back on the road and headed to San Diego where their gig the following day was. The aim being to get there in the early hours of the morning so they could all check into the hotel and have a decent night’s sleep as they had a late check out.

And when Matty crawled into the bed, he passed out rather quickly which was rather unlike him. But the strain the tour puts him under makes a real bed that bit more comfortable and had him passing out just after 3am.

Rubbing his eyes, the singer groans at the light seeping into his room as due to the late hour he crawled into the bed, he never shut his curtains. But at least the daylight woke him up a little more, so when he went to twitter to check for more memes to send to the bands group chat, he saw that he’d caused quite the stir with last nights show.

Yes he had kissed a girl during Robbers, and he’d done it to primarily be nostalgic towards when he used to do it years prior. But he also did it because this was the first time he’d been single whilst touring since 2014, so he gave the fans something nostalgic whilst he’s not tied to anyone.

The various cheating things he’d been tagged in made him laugh, but he continues aimlessly scrolling until one tweet crops up. He sees that Amelia has retweeted an article about the kiss with the simple but effective word Interesting, and Matty’s mind immediately then goes to you.

He quickly goes onto search and types in your name, and gets your account up. He smiles when he sees that the picture of the two of you sitting across from each other is still your pinned tweet but when he sees your latest one he finds himself laughing as he thinks your tweet is even better than Amelia’s.

Ending the year with a bang! Getting (parasocially) cheated on 😍

The singer chuckles a little, your humour shining through even in your tweets.

After gathering a few memes for the boys, Matty heads to Instagram to do the same thing. But obviously, he gets a little sidetracked looking through peoples stories after he can’t be bothered scrolling to find any funny content.

He bypasses the few that were about him from fan accounts that he follows, not even blinking an eye at what they had to say. But then when he swipes to see what other Instagram stories he fancies being nosy at and he sees the ring around your profile picture.

When he taps on you, he sees a picture of you that looks like it’s taken from a badly directed music video from the 2000s where you look heartbroken looking out of a car window. But what makes it worse is that you have maybe the most depressing Phoebe Bridgers lyrics from Moon Song playing over it.

And Matty knows just from, ‘Stuck your tongue down the throat of somebody / Who loves you more’ that you’ve posted this in reaction to last night's stage antics.

Without a second thought he’s going to his contacts to pull up your number and when he finds it, he instantly calls you.

You get startled by the loud ring of your phone and when you see his name on the screen, you silently panic. There’s no way you’re picking up because only the prospect of having a conversation with him today after everything that’s been going on online has you nervous.

But despite you having let the call go to voicemail, he calls you again and this time you just can’t keep ignoring him so you wait a few seconds before you pick up.

Matty doesn’t even say hi first because he needs to know if you’re actually serious about the whole thing and he wants to know, “Phoebe. Really? Are you kidding me?”

You have to swallow a chuckle so you can keep your act up, “I’m having a bad day, I needed the depressive state to hit hard. Can you blame me?”

He sighs loudly to dramatise it all even more, “But Phoebe? Especially that song… fucking hell.”

“Okay, let me be.” You joke with a stern tone but that flies over his head because now he doesn’t know if you’re properly upset by what he’s said.

So then you hear the characteristic sound of Facetime coming through, and it’s him trying to see your face.

You shuffle in your seat, quickly trying to brush the ends of your hair to look presentable without making too much noise because he can still hear you so when you accept the switch to Facetime, you give him a shy smile and a soft, “Hello.”

“Hey,” Matty says back, brushing his curls back with his hand and you can see he’s laying in bed as the sunlight comes into the room he’s in. “What you doing?”

You shrug, looking ahead to where your TV’s playing a rerun of Sherlock, “Not much, just watching telly.”

He hums, analysing intently every bit of your face and your tone, “You alright?”

“Yes.” You snort softly at his concern but you know Matty wants you to bring it up, but you won’t give it him that straight away.

Sincerely, you ask, “How’s tour going?”

“Yeah,” Matty nods, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he answers, “Good, thank you.”

Still not yet giving into him, you question, “How is it being called Maddy instead of Matty everywhere you go?”

The singer snorts at you taking a dig at the American accents he’s been hearing non-stop.

“Oh it’s a delight,” The singer lets sarcasm ring in his voice, but then he asks you, “How’s back home?” because he’s not bringing the kiss up first.  

“Wet and rainy, as per usual.” You sigh, “It’s meant to be getting colder though soon.”

“Lovely,” Matty smiles the tiniest bit, finding it silently funny how you’re both purposefully not addressing what he’s called about. “I’m glad I’m in a warm country then.”

“Yeah, how is America?” You keep the vaguely awkward conversation going.

“It’s alright, nothing much to rave about but the gigs are good.” Matty says before pressing his lips together as he’s got the conversation back to where he wanted it, not really leaving you with much choice but to bring it up now.

You say a small, “Good.” instead of going in straight away with what he’s baited you into bringing up.

You knew it would come around sooner or later and you know that’s why he has a smile playing on those lips of his. You just decide to draw it out like you would on one of your chicken shop dates to make it a little more awkward before the inevitable laughter.

“So…” You start.

Matty raises an eyebrow, “So?”

You just bite the bullet and ask, “Was it a good kiss?

Matty laughs loudly at the direct question and you really are silently battling between an awkward laugh yourself or keeping your unbothered facade up.

“Yeah, it was okay.” Matty chuckles as he watches your reaction intently.

Keeping a straight face, you hum like another wave of jealousy doesn’t hit you when his words hit your ears. But instead of wallowing like you know you shouldn’t, you say, “She was pretty.”

Matty smirks finally getting you where he wanted but he takes the opportunity to flirt with you instead, “To be honest, I’m thinking about how much I can’t wait for New Years.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a tinge of a smile breaking on your face for a second before falling back to a blank expression, “Yeah, seems so… Kissing other girls.”

Matty’s smirk grows bigger, reaching his eyes as he’s able to witness your humour again. “This is why I needed to see your face.” He starts and you’re about to ask why but he goes faster than you, being quick to explain his point. “‘Cause I can’t quite tell when you’re joking or not over the phone yet.”

You don’t really know what to say to that so you just laugh at his struggle and when a slightly awkward silence settles between you, he brings the incident back up but of course in a teasing manner. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, baby.”

“Right.” You say meekly, letting your facial expression stay stoic.

And that has Matty doubting your mood again, “Oh come on, you’re not really upset are you?” His eyebrows raise trying to tell if you’re putting up an act or not, so he continues to assure you, “I didn’t bring her with me, I promise.”

What you don’t expect is for him to raise his phone to show you the empty bed beside him and that would’ve been something you could’ve joked about if he wasn’t shirtless and you had a clear view of his Calvin Klein boxers barely covering his We Are Kings tattoo.

Your throat goes dry and all of your thoughts tangle, making you unable to form a sentence back. Your whole act has fallen now and it’s so clear to see how that has affected you so Matty smiles all smug to see he has that power over you.

“I’m excited for New Years.” He says again now that he’s got you back on his side.

But what Matty doesn’t expect is for you to only say, “That’s nice.” and not agree with him.

He pouts a little, “Why are you being like that?”

You simply shrug, “Because I’ve not been asked to do anything on New Years yet.” and you try to stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

And that’s when he realises the lack of a proper proposition from him to you for the holiday. “You’ll have to wait until I’m back off tour, love.” Matty says smugly, trying to get you to laugh.

When you reply, “So you can kiss more fit girls?” immediately, it’s him who’s laughing. It’s certainly very interesting seeing you looking green from jealousy.

“How do I make it up to you?”

Seeing him continuously try to explain himself and now this has you knowing you need to give him a break, so you chuckle your way out of your act. “I’m only joking, sorry. I’m just being pouty because I’m lonely and on my period.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to admit, but it’s the truth and you feel no need to lie to him.

Matty coos at you, “Awh, do you want a cuddle?”

You’re well aware he’s only teasing but at the memory of it, you’d love a cuddle from him right now so you barely have time to process it before you find yourself saying, “I wouldn’t turn one down.”

He laughs loudly, letting his head go back further into the pillows and the sound is so contagious you start giggling with him. You find yourself scooting down your bed so you can lie down a little bit so you can be comfy and do the same.

By now, Matty just wants to hear you talking about everything that has been going on for you. He’s seen things going around on social media about places you’ve been and very interesting people you’ve met and he just wants to hear all about it.

“How did Amelia's last date go?” He asks first, the latest teaser of the next date to be uploaded had showed up on his main page not long ago and that was the first thing to come to mind.

He watches as you smile at the memory of it, and you tell him, “It was quite funny actually considering he doesn’t show his face.”

“When's your next date?” Matty asks curiously.

He’s definitely going to be taking a mental note so he can message you and double check that his was still your favourite.

“I have Phoebe’s coming up and the next one is in two weeks I think.” Matty can see you thinking about it, but then your screen wobbles a little and he can see you’re searching for something on your phone so he knows you’re checking. You confirm, “Yeah, I’ve got Elijah from Inhaler in a fortnight so that should be an interesting one.”

Matty frowns a little, not really knowing any of the lads in Inhaler very well, “Which one’s Elijah?”

“Elijah-” You start but then you just say the name he will know for certain, “Bono’s son.”

“Bono?” Matty cackles, “Like from U2?”

“Yeah, I’m collecting nepo babies now.” You smirk, “Thought you’d realise since I started with you.”

Matty narrows his eyes and shakes his head at you then. All before he tells you, “Hope it goes terrible.”

You pout at that, calling him, “Nasty.”

But you realise he was just playfully saying it because he surprises you by admitting, “I want mine to be the best.”

Something about that makes your chest a lot less heavy than it has been all day. Whether he’s joking or not, which it really doesn’t seem like he is, it does wonders for your heart.

You feel like you’re melting as you admit, “It always will be to me. You don’t have competition there.”

The earnest admission makes the singer get a fuzzy feeling in his chest. But instead of addressing it, he just smiles as he watches you snuggle yourself in bed a little more, pulling the blanket you lent him up over a month ago now and you wrap it around your shoulders.

Matty hums, only half joking when he says, “Yeah, you’re only gonna be able to break the internet with me.”

“Seems like now I can’t escape you honestly,” You tell him, “Been tagged in shit all day.”

“Oh yeah, twitter has been fun hasn’t it?” Matty smiles back at you, thinking back to all the cheater comments.

You giggle a little, “So many Phoebe lyrics.”

Matty chuckles at that, but then he thinks back to the story you put on and jokes, “You know, Car Radio by Twenty One Pilots would have fitted that picture of you just as well.”

You snort before laughing, “You’re a dickhead.”

“But you love me still.” Matty smirks.

You hum to acknowledge what he said but you don’t give him a definitive answer. Instead, you end up yawning and you cover your mouth so he can’t see before rolling onto your side and snuggling properly into your pillow. You still hold your phone up so you can continue your conversation with the curly haired man.

The singer states, “It’s too early for you to be that tired.”

“I’ve had a long and hard day.” You lightheartedly chuckle, feeling so much better now than you did when you were last wrapped up in bed this morning.

“I promise you she’s not here, don’t go being upset.” Matty assures you and even offers you more proof, “I’ll show you the bathroom if you want.”

“No stop, I wasn't saying anything to make you feel bad,” You quickly tell him, not wanting to come across as needy or weird. It’s really the last thing you wanted to do as you were only joking. “It’s been a long day for a lot of reasons… I'm not being weirdly possessive when we’ve only kissed a few times. I-”

“No, but I’ve seen someone who I fancy kiss other people in front of me and it’s not the best feeling.” Matty interrupts you, feeling the need to stop you from spiralling like he knows you were definitely about it. He continues, “Especially when it’s being shoved down your throat like it probably has been for you today… Listen I’m not promising I’m not going to kiss anyone else, because I get carried away when performing and I definitely will. But I can promise you if it’s on stage or whilst I’m performing it doesn’t mean anything.”

Feeling the panic still in your chest though, you have to tell him, “You don’t have to explain yourself Matty.”

This was the exact reason why you didn’t want to message him in the first place. The last thing you wanted to do was give him the ick like you’re sure you are doing right now.

Matty is far from feeling that though. He just smiles as he tells you in a hopeful tone, “No, but there’s sort of a second date on the cards and I wanna make sure I'm still in your good books so I don’t get stood up.”

It's a little unbelievable to you that he’s talking about a second date still, especially after this last conversation. It definitely takes you back a little, but you sort of revert back to your default settings when you end up smiling and telling him, “I wouldn’t stand anyone up… I’m too much of a professional for that.”

Matty grins, seeing that you’ve calmed down now. But it doesn’t stop him from trying to make you blush, so he adds, “And you fancy me.”

He sees the embarrassment flood your face then, and you try to hide yourself into your pillow as you admit, “I don’t like that you know that I fancy you… You have a lot of cards in your hand.”

He chuckles at that, but he doesn’t hesitate to say, “Well I’ll return some cards, because I fancy you right back.”

You can feel your cheeks absolutely burning at this, and you instruct him, “Okay, stop trying to make me blush.”

Matty’s grin is huge, and you can’t help but think that his messy curls make him look all the more cute. It's a sight you would certainly love to wake up to every morning. You find yourself envying his past girlfriends even more than you already did.

“I’m being serious though.” Matty tells you, and you find your heart is beating erratically as you he’s basically just told you again that he fancies you.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever hear that.

“Stop it.” You whine as you fully hide into your pillow now.

The sight makes Matty laugh, but he keeps going. He rolls over on his side too, and it’s almost like you’re both in bed together again as you’re so invested in the sight of each other and this conversation.

Matty shamelessly flirts, “Your dress at the GQ Awards, I wanted to take it off you.”

Your heart stops hearing that, but you know why he’s said it when he continues, “Just like you wanted to take my suit off me on our date… Glad I finally know what you said in Spanish to me now.”

And he’s not even joking when he said he wanted to take the dress off you. You looked fucking stunning in the black sequin dress. The thigh slit that had your skin on show for all of your interviews had his dick twitching in his jeans when he saw the pictures you posted.

Your boobs looked fucking brilliant as well, and the fact you only had a thin gold necklace on left your neck looking bare and Matty wanted to mark it up. The memory of it has him aching, and if he was at the awards as well, there was no doubt he would have asked to take you home.

And seeing you blushing, looking all awkward and embarrassed at his admission through the phone has him smiling like a fool. Despite wanting to flirt more with you, he gives you a small break and asks you about that particular evening.

“Looks like both you and Amelia will be doing the Andrew Garfield date when you get it.” Matty smiles.  

You eyes go wide, “You saw that?”

“Course I did.” Matty nods, but he needs you to know he really wasn’t joking about the dress, “In all seriousness though, you looked gorgeous by the way.”

A shy and embarrassed smile finds its way onto your face as you tell him, “Thank you.”

Matty thinks back to your interview with the actor and he starts laughing, “Your faces when he knew who you were had me in stitches.”

His giggles have your heart warming, but you get all embarrassed again for different reasons.

“I couldn’t believe it, it was the weirdest moment of my life.” It still doesn’t feel real when it leaves your tongue, “Spider-Man knows who I am. It’s mental.”

The both of you end up laughing a little at that, and you talk a little more about it until the singer thinks back to another of your guests that you interviewed.

“Did you see the way Eddie from Stranger Things looked at you after you flirted with him?” Matty chuckles, remembering that one was funny too, “I was like he’s definitely not seen a Chicken Shop Date before.”

“Matty, I was so embarrassed.” You cover your eyes with your free hand then and Matty chuckles at your despair. “I went inside and found him and apologised and explained myself.”

He isn't surprised at all by this, as you seem like the people pleasing type, so he tries to make you feel better, “That’s on him, he should be watching your dates.”

You laugh at that, knowing he’s not entirely wrong, but Joe was so adorable, you have to defend him, “Leave him alone, he's so lovely.”

Matty hums before moving on to another part of the interviews that made him laugh, “Also never needed another sign that you’re bi. Your reaction to the girl from Euphoria was so funny... She nearly had you as flustered as I make you.”

“Stop it.” You gasp, once again mortified but this time a little giggle, “I was trying not to be obvious but did you see what she was wearing.”

“No,” Matty shakes his head and smiles, “I was too busy looking at you in that sparkly dress.”

Taking a deep breath, you elect to ignore the comment because your cheeks are already flaming and you don’t need another reason for him to direct you towards an early heart attack.

“See, I like it when you go all embarrassed on me.” Matty grins as you hide again, “I’m doing something right.”

You say more into your pillow than to him, just wanting to disappear, “I’m just British and can’t take a compliment.”

“And you fancy me,” Matty reminds you as if you didn’t already know, “So you’re blushing even more.”

At that you fully just move your phone so he can only see the ceiling of your room. His cackle echoes out of your speakers and you fully try and suffocate yourself in your pillow.

You really thought you were smooth with your flirting and being subtle about everything but you’re a full simp at this point. You just want to die from the embarrassment you feel.

“Stop hiding.” You hear Matty tell you, and he reiterates, “I fancy you too and I’m not hiding.”

Hearing that again makes you want to scream into your pillow.

He pleads, “Come back.” in a whiney voice and after you compose yourself for a second, you pick up your phone and see his adorable grin again.

He takes a moment to appreciate your flushed face and your embarrassed smile before he smiles, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You say softly back trying to get your emotions in order.

Matty points out as he grins at you, “You look tired.”

“I am.” You nod.

“Isn’t it like quarter to eleven over there?” Matty asks, checking if his maths is right.

You nod, confirming it is and you smile, “Like I said, long day… And I’m always sleepy, just so you know.”

“‘Course you are.” Matty chuckles, and he can see your eyes getting a little droopy, so he tells you, “I’ll let you go then, goodnight baby.”

Your heart melts hearing the pet name again, and you grin back, “Night Matty.”

“Miss you already.” He grins, his heart warm seeing you all cosy in bed. He can’t help but wish he was there with you.

You want to silently scream, but instead you just let him see your genuine big grin and you say back, “You too.”

Your heart skips a beat when he blows you kiss, before waving, “Night.”

“Night.” You hum and blow one back to him before pressing the red button to end the call.

~*~*~*~

Waking up the next morning is a rollercoaster of emotions because whilst you first get slapped awake by the memory of FaceTiming Matty, the second you unlock your phone you are met with yet another reminder of Matty antics during his gigs.

You smile this time, seeing that last night he brought a guy on stage and the way he’s beaming at Matty with his eyes almost sparkling at the sight of the singer in front of him. Matty sat him down on the settee that was on stage and sat on his lap as he performed and then, when the moment in Robbers happened, he pulled him in for a rather hot kiss.

Your cheeks find themselves heating up as you giggle watching it all on the screen of your phone, and you let out a little screech seeing how Matty went in for a second kiss before the lad was pulled off stage.

This time you have to admit it didn’t hurt as much as the Vegas kiss, and whilst your heart still felt like it had been poked with a needle, it was more bearable.

Scrolling through Twitter, you end up laughing at the different range of reactions from everyone and your laughter gets louder when you see the guy who had gotten the kiss explain what he had to do for it to happen with a simple screenshot of what he had typed on his phone as a sign for Matty to see.

The fact that the guy had only had to show his phone as it said ‘Give a guy a try’ and that was enough for Matty to pull him on stage had you creasing.

And it certainly made you take it all in a lighter way, letting the slight jealousy you felt inside die down.

To add some fuel to the fire, when you’re making yourself some breakfast a little bit later, you take a selfie and post it on your Instagram stories with Jealousy by Pale Waves playing in the background and simply writing, Tune of the day x

You know that everyone will know what you’re referring to as you can hear the first verse of the song ‘Jealousy is haunting me / So bad I'm biting my tongue / It gets so hard to breathe / Wish you were mine from day one / Don't mention any other name / That doesn't sound like mine, yeah’

You’re very glad to be in a different timezone to Matty because that assures you that he won’t get to see what you post about it all right away when you’re most vulnerable to overthink it and just delete your reactions.

And maybe it’s that thought that has you brave enough to post to your stories the picture you’ve just seen of them singing into the same microphone saying, @rass1975 I slept on you king, please go on a date with me? x

Adding another story a few minutes later, this time of a picture of Alex Turner and Miles Kane singing into the same microphone as well, Just had to post this one too because this scenario is speaking to me right now… (you guys think Amelia would mind if I asked to go on a date with 4 guys?)

You seriously forget about having posted that until you get a notification as you’re getting ready for bed. And it has you giggling when you see it’s Matty saying, Am I not enough for you? x but your breath hitches when he follows it up with, Greedy girl xx

You pretend to not see it until the next morning just to gather some courage to reply overnight but you can’t find it in yourself when you open it the next morning and all you can do is internally scream at the thought of hearing him saying that to you.

It’s certainly unfair the effect he has on you.

And you continue to be reminded of that when, as the days go by and the North American tour keeps rolling, you suffer heart palpitations over the things he does on stage. Especially all the variations of the Consumption interlude which gets you flustered and amazed at the same time.

The anticipation grows in the pit of your stomach as time goes by, being reminded constantly of the New Years promise every time you saw a video of the band performing Robbers or any time you caught a picture or a clip of Matty smirking at the camera, a facial expression of his that you had gotten to see many times before and that you missed a lot more than you wanted to admit.

Thankfully you have such a busy schedule during the end of the year that the wait for him to come back is easier to bear as you are booked and busy almost every other day.

Loads of events were coming up, with both you and Amelia invited, and it was beyond your understanding how you were attending all those fancy events and people coming up to you genuinely interested in your plans for the future of what you did and any other projects that you were planning.

Not only were you in the list at these events, you actually got to work with the brands and the one that had probably left you most speechless was the Miu Miu Party that you and Amelia got to attend.

You both had been dressed head to toe in the designer brand and you were feeling hot as fuck to say the least, in your mini skirt suit, with a cropped white shirt and a black tie around your neck.

Because of the recent robbers kisses, you decided to kiss your best friend as someone took your picture. It was great, iconic even, and it went on your Instagram as a post which you added the song in the background, the specific bit where Matty has started kissing people, and you wrote the caption, Two can play at that game baby x

The day after that particular event you had woken up to a tweet that you had been tagged in blowing up and you cackled seeing it, trying to ignore the butterflies in your tummy as you read, boyfriend and girlfriend over a picture of Matty in a black suit and you in your outfit from last night, looking like the opposite version of the other.

You know they were joking about it but seeing those words be used to refer to you and Matty made you so delusionally giddy, you had to pinch yourself after 5 minutes to remind yourself that was far from reality.

The kiss with Amelia was a bit of drunk fun and thankfully it all worked out well. You were a little surprised when you saw Matty had messaged you whilst you were asleep. But you expected him to message you something like, Game on, but instead he messaged you saying, Hot xxx and that had you flustered for at least an hour.

In a blink of an eye the whole tour had seemed to pass and it felt like a fever dream that only less than a week ago you were sobbing waking up to videos of Carly performing About You with the guys.

You hadn’t even been able to process that when you saw twitter flooding with pictures of the band at the airport on their way back to the UK and to be honest, you had no idea what to expect or if you should expect anything at all so you were nervous at every moment of the day when your mind wasn’t taken over by work.

Overly aware of every notification on your phone, the messages and any call that you got. And whilst many of them had gotten his name written atop of them, you just felt so ridiculous when you got disappointed at not seeing his name in every single one of them. So you forced yourself to fool yourself and downplay your expectations, basically gaslighting yourself for raising your hopes up this much up until the thought of the New Years promise was at the back of your mind.

A silent whisper that you could ignore during the day but came to steal your sleep like a mosquito buzzing in your ear at night.

~*~*~*~ 23rd December ~*~*~*~

Because of the date, of course that meant you’d had Being Funny on repeat. You had to listen to Wintering as many times as possible, it feels like a law you have to follow. And it’s really no hardship.

As it’s December 23rd, you’ve had so much shit to do today. You’d been so bad and only done the wrapping you had to, which was only your presents that you got your Chicken Shop Date team who you gifted all of those presents to a few days ago as they were all going home for Christmas.

Today you’d been wrapping your family's Christmas presents, along with those you’d got for your friends. You put the most care and effort into wrapping Amelia’s gifts because she really means the world to you, even though she did bully you earlier when you told her you had a full day of wrapping presents before you were both going home together tomorrow.

Thankfully, Amelia is driving the both of you home tomorrow so you can stay with your families, and you have no doubt you’ll spend time with her over the break you’re all having between Christmas and New Year.

You take a break from cutting wrapping paper to grab a drink so with one hand holding your can of Tango and the other scrolling through your phone, you walk back to your previous spot to continue with your chore but before you put your phone aside to forget about it for the next thirty minutes, you quickly go to Spotify to share Wintering on your stories.

@trumanblack Hope you made it home safe x

After you’ve thrown your phone somewhere behind you, you go back to wrapping more presents and time passes as you lose count of how many times you’ve sung loudly ‘I said ‘woman you are 64 years old!’’

You took another break from wrapping when you made your dinner, and all in all you took about an hour to cook and eat. Scorning yourself when you realise it’s already 9pm, you really wish you’d started wrapping earlier. You didn’t know you had this many presents.

This time, you just elect to listen to the song of the day on repeat while you concentrate on neatly folding the paper. However, about 15 minutes into your last bag of presents you had to wrap, there was a sudden loud ring of your doorbell which startled you.

You are fairly confused as you rest the sellotape beside the little box you’re wrapping, standing up quickly when a second ring echoes inside your flat, pausing the music first and when you finally go to open your front door, your face falls at the surprise.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Is the first thing you manage to say, very fucking confused and with a frown that has Matty thinking he’s just interrupted something very important for you to look at him that way.

He lets out a chuckle, “Hello to you too.”

His sarcasm gets you to snap out of your shock, “Sorry, hi. Come in.”

“Thank you.” Matty grins and steps around you and into your flat, dropping his tote on the ground.

“How did you get up here?” You swore you hadn’t heard your buzzer go so you got worried that you’d had the music too loud and made him wait far too long outside to get in.

“Someone was leaving as I was about to press your buzzer and they let me in.” You breathe in relief as he explains and his smile gets bigger when he recounts, “Made the surprise better.”

It certainly is a surprise because he really was the last person you were expecting to see today. You glance back at the time and see it’s 9:21pm and you’re so confused as to why he’s still in London.

“What are you doing here? You’re meant to be in Manchester.” You scorn because you have been singing the same line about him driving up on the 23rd over and over, and you felt the need to reprimand him as if he’s not kept a promise that was said in the song.

“Did you really think I plan when I'm driving home for Christmas that early in the year, baby?” Matty smirks as he watches you like he’s teasing you for being naive about it. “No, that was about last year's Christmas.”

“But you said your Mum was sixty four and that's how old she is this year.” You explain yourself, not wanting to lose this one argument.

But he has you choking on your spit when he nonchalantly says, “But I also mentioned my Grandad, and considering he died last year I don't think he would have been coming to this year's meal.”

You're speechless for a long few seconds and when you finally gather your thoughts again after such a turn of conversation, you clear your throat to say, “Okay, you didn’t have to make that depressing. Vin seemed like a hoot.”

Matty nods, “He would have loved our date, that’s for sure.” And then he quickly shrugs to turn the whole thing around again, “Anyway, hiya baby, how are you?”

He’s thrown that question into the air, though, because before you can answer he traps you in a kiss that screams just how much he’d missed the feeling of your lips from the way he’s holding you.

One of his hands has a tight grip on your waist as he pulls you into him and the other one cups your jaw delicately while his tongue is hungrily crashing against yours. Feeling and tasting him again makes you hum in delight, his lips feeling so soft against your own and being able to tangle your fingers in his curls ties it all up for you.

You make up for the time apart in that kiss, going for as long as your lungs allow you to deprive them of oxygen. When you part, Matty rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb and the touch is so soft that it has you leaning into the palm of his hand with a sweet smile which he returns.

Remembering what he had asked you, you quietly reply as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling his little curls in your fingers. “I'm good,” And he just can’t deal with the small distance between you anymore so he brings you in closer once more to crush you in a tight hug.

“I would have got the welcome home cheater sign out for you but I didn't know you were coming.” You joke breathlessly into his ear and you feel him let out a breathy laugh, the hot air hitting your neck making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Matty pulls back, shaking his head. “God, shut up.”

And once again he grabs a hold of your jaw, this time using both hands to cup your face, to bring you in for a hungry kiss. Your tongues meet almost instantly as if knowing that you can kiss each other again has you both unable to hold back anymore, but it gets increasingly hotter when you pull on his hair and he moans in your mouth.

Unable to find a way to catch his breath to continue the kiss, he has to pull back. Matty rests his forehead on yours with a sigh and closed eyes. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.” You reciprocate, leaving one last peck on his parted swollen lips which makes a smile tug at the corner of them. “Should I go get tested now? You’ve kissed a lot of mouths since you last kissed mine.”

Matty opens his eyes, standing back up straight to look at your face and when he sees your smirk, he warns, “Careful, your jealousy is showing.”

You laugh but it’s interrupted when he can’t hold back another kiss. You just looked so stunning in front of him, in such a mundane setting, joking around and after being deprived of your presence for far too long. It's a little overwhelming how you make him feel when he’s with you, it’s like he’s known of you and has been this close to you for a lot longer than he actually has. It’s so easy with you.  

The way he finds himself to be able to say all of this is through kisses and he truly doesn’t mind using that as his medium for communication. He just hopes that you feel the same way about him and that’s why you’re kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm.

He wishes human bodies had been designed better because he finds himself mentally cursing when you both need to break the kiss from lack of breath.

Once your hazy mind comes down from the multiple kisses you’ve just shared, there's a moment of realisation when you process all of this is really playing out in your flat. You’re confused to say the least so you repeat your earlier question.

“What are you doing here?” You have to ask, “You should be at home, I've been playing Wintering all day for nothing.”

Matty chuckles a little at that but he holds you close to him as he starts explaining himself.

“Well, a few things actually.” Matty starts revealing with ease, “Had to come and see you before I went home for a start.”

You nod slowly, not really able to really process how or why he’s made you one of his priorities at bloody Christmas time.

But all your efforts to truly grasp what’s going on fly out the window when he continues, “Second, I have to do this…” and suddenly he drops on one knee in front of you like he’s about to fucking propose. His grin is huge as he asks, “Y/N, will you please go on a date with me this New Years Eve?”

Your eyes go wide for a second, your blood running cold as your brain slowly catches up with what he’s said. When you realise it’s just Matty being Matty, you shake your head at him and raise an eyebrow to challenge his behaviour, “Has anyone ever told you you're dramatic?”

“Yes, someone does almost every day.” Matty nods almost proudly.

You scoff playfully at his self awareness, “Not surprised.”

Rolling his eyes as he fakes annoyance, Matty talks back, “Are you going to give me an answer or are you keeping me down here on purpose?”

“You look great on your knees.” You say suggestively, not really lying because he indeed looks very pretty from this angle.

But you’re the one who ends up receiving the teasing when he turns it around, “Somehow I imagine not as good as you do.”

You bite your tongue, trying hard not to blush to satisfy him. “Yes I’ll go out with you,” You act as if you’re defeated saying that and then wave your hands up, “Now stand up.”

Not even acknowledging your antics, Matty only rises to his feet with a beaming smile on his face and grabs a hold of your waist with both his hands to pull you into him. He’s grinning like a fool when he admits, “I already can’t wait.”

Your arms come to wrap around his shoulders and you allow yourself to show some affection by bringing one of your hands to scratch his scalp softly at the nape of his neck. “That's very cute of you.” You let your head tilt to the side and Matty melts inside seeing your eyes gleaming at him.

The singer then sees your eyes flick up to his hair though and he loves it when you smile and hum, “See, your hair looks so much better natural.”

You reach up and give his curls a little ruffle and you grin when he chuckles. You half style his unruly hair a little so it falls over his forehead slightly and when you lean back a little to admire your work, you hum in approval.

Matty just watches you, hands still on your hips holding you against him, but you reach up again to twist one specific ringlet round your finger a few times before you check him again, and nod, “There we go, perfect.” and you let your fingers root themselves back into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Thanks baby.” Matty grins and leans down to quickly catch your lips again, but you’re both too smiley for it to continue for too long.

Feeling the way your fingers are still playing with the ends of his hair though, Matty pulls away and softly says, “Don’t start playing with it because I won’t want you to stop.”

“Could just not be a pussy and ask me to play with it? I wouldn’t say no.” You grin, but let your hands fall back to his shoulders and Matty bites his tongue and shakes his head at your teasing.

You chuckle at his reaction before you ask another question.

“How was your tour? Were the Americans good to you?” It was a genuine question, having seen so many moments of him enjoying life on the road over there, especially during that livestream he’d done of him and George playing about in the lounge of the tour bus.

“They always are.” Is the short answer Matty gives you so you feel the need to tease some more things out of him.

“Believe you’re dating an influencer now.” You laugh a little, clearly knowing everything online was bullshit as he was messaging you a lot of the time.

“The fact anyone thinks I’d date a Republican is hilarious in itself.” Matty laughs humorlessly, being done with all the shit he’d heard and how it had gotten out of control when the girl had openly referred to him as her boyfriend. As if.  

“Not to mention I just got to my knees to ask you out.” He brings back around only to see you blush again and he’s pleased to see you averting your eyes from him as you flush again.

He gives you a small break and distracts you and asks, “What have you been up to today?”

“I’ve just been getting ready to go home.” You tell him honestly, “This morning I was packing my case and then spent most of the day cleaning. And I’ve almost finished my wrapping now.”

Glancing at that last bag of presents, you realise that is now the last thing you want to continue doing whilst you have company.

Matty asks, “When do you go?”

“Amelia’s coming to get me tomorrow morning.”

You watch as his face lights up then, and he smiles, “Amazing.”

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering what’s so amazing about you leaving tomorrow.

“Well, I can stay here tonight now.” Matty fully grins at you now and you scoff a little whilst you laugh.

You point a finger at his chest and tell him, “You’re cheeky.”

But he pulls you a little closer to him and he smirks, “Are you going to turn me away?” knowing the answer straight away before he even asked.

“No.” You playfully glare at him, trying not to get embarrassed. And after tapping his chest again, you educate him, like you would a small child, “But you shouldn't assume.”

“I didn’t,” Matty tells you honestly, “If you were going home, I would have just driven back tonight, was on my way when I stopped to come see you.”

“Don’t stay for me,” You say, feeling increasingly bad if you’re stopping him from going home. “You need to see your family.”

Matty just looks at you so sincerely, it melts your heart when he says, “But I want to see you.”

With an embarrassingly gooey feeling in your stomach, you press your lips together and pull out of his hold as you walk towards your kitchen and ask, “Can I make you a brew?”

Matty follows you saying, “I’d love one, please.” and you quickly fill up the kettle and flick the switch for it to boil.

As you get two mugs out and the teabags and sugar, you ask, “How’d you take it?”

Instantly, Matty smirks seeing his opportunity clear as day, “Shouldn’t it be me asking y-”

“Stop being crude,” You interrupt him as you put your fingers over his lips giving him knowing eyes. You repeat your question, asking seriously, “How do you want me to make your tea?”

Matty laughs beneath your fingers and you only remove them when he licks them to get you off him. You playfully glare at him before the singer tells you how he likes his drink and the both of you happily chat away as you make the brews.

The both of you stay in there talking about his tour for a little while and you make him give you the interesting details. You find it all mesmerising and you find yourself asking him even more questions about it, which leads to the both of you going back into your lounge and sitting down beside each other to chat.

That is until the both of you finish your brews and the singer catches sight of his tote bag that he put down earlier. “Oh!” Matty says as he gets up from his seat quickly to go and grab it.

You watch as he brings it back over and takes his seat again, closer to you this time though. His smile is so big as he looks back at you, “I got you these.” and out of his tote Matty hands you two messily wrapped gifts, the red and green striped paper makes you smile brightly at him. He puts them into your lap whilst saying a soft, “Merry Christmas baby.”

You bite your bottom lip looking down at the gifts and back up to him, letting your lip go to pout at him. “Matty, you really didn't have to do that... I didn’t think I was going to see you, I’ve not got you anything, fuck.”

God, you feel so fucking bad, but you never thought you would see Matty before Christmas and you’d convinced yourself you weren’t going to see him afterwards either so you didn’t get anything. Your brain is working a thousand miles per hour trying to figure out if there is anything that you could give him right here and now.

“I don't want anything. I just saw the smaller one whilst I was away and I thought of you so I bought it for you.” Matty stops your panic and over thinking at the same time he melts your heart. “The larger one is like our inside joke, but I don't want anything in return.”

His reassurance is cute but the fact that he was away and still thinking of you enough to buy you Christmas presents has your heart aching for him. You keep on looking at them in complete awe. Matty Healy got you Christmas presents.

Whilst you’re excited to see what he’s got you, you keep that underwraps like these presents won’t be the first ones you open Christmas morning. But the man beside you has other ideas.

“Are you going to sit there and stare at them or are you going to open them?” Matty looks at you expectantly.

You’re the tiniest bit hesitant and you stumble upon saying, “It’s not Christmas yet though.”

“Don’t be one of those.” Matty shakes his head and looks at you like a giddy child and says, “I’m telling you to open them now. I wanna see your reaction.”

“Which one should I open first?” You ask shyly, letting the excitement bubbling up inside you finally show.

Matty’s just beaming at your child-like giddiness, taking a mental picture of it. “Whichever you’d like, baby.”

You hum as you debate which one to do first and you decide to save the bigger one for last. So you grab the tiny little bag he’s made out of wrapping paper and internally coo at his attempts of keeping it neat with a lot of tape.

At first, you’re delicately trying to open it but he rolls his eyes and tells you to “Just rip it.” and you do just that.

On your lap falls a little chicken nugget keyring that makes you gasp loudly and when you pick it up you let out a loud, “Awh!”

That has Matty laughing softly, it was a small little thing that had reminded him of you and her you were clutching it to your chest like it was a diamond.

“I love it! Thank you Matty.” You quickly lean to the side and hug him as tight as you can from the position you’re in.

Matty’s arm, the one that’s not trapped against the back of the settee, wraps around your waist and he squeezes you gently, “Glad you like it baby.”

“Love it.” You correct and you decide to be a little selfish and stay in his hold a little longer.

With one last squeeze, you lean back into your spot and pick up the big box item to put it on your lap. You look down at it, staring at it really as if you could see through the paper.

Matty can’t help but encourage you like an impatient child, “Come on, open it.”

In your head, you’re trying to guess which inside joke it is that he was referring to earlier with this gift but your mind blanks. This time you’re faster at tearing the wrapping paper to find out what it is.

You let out a loud cackle when you see it’s a heated blanket, the memory from your joke about being cold on the date coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“Oh this is fucking brilliant, thank you so much.” You quickly say in between giggles.

But it’s the perfect opportunity for Matty to test the waters so he adds with a smirk, “That one’s a joint gift.”

You frown a little when he says that because you have no idea what he means and he can read it on your face so he continues, “With me.”

It’s truly a miracle you don’t burst out laughing at his suave way of flirting, putting up a questioning act by raising an eyebrow at him.

“Was thinking we could cuddle under it later.” Matty adds suggestively and that’s when you let out a snort of amusement.

You’re grinning like an idiot when you tease him, “You really are a cheeky bastard, aren’t you?”

It’s his turn to raise his eyebrows at you then, “Think you’re meant to say “thank you’.”

“I already did, dickhead.” You fail at not laughing, your amusement shining through and breaking your facade. Putting the box down, you pivot in your seat so you can lean over and hug him properly and it’s a tight hug where you tell him, “In all seriousness though, thank you so much.”

“Anytime baby.” Matty says as he hugs you back.

In his hold, you’re once again baffled by how surreal the situation is. You have Matty Healy in your flat, hugging you after he’s just given you Christmas presents. How the fuck did this happen?

You’d be even more thrown aback if you could read Matty’s thoughts which were all over the place, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to move to the big settee and use the blanket as an excuse to cuddle you again. He’s been thinking about it since he left you that morning.

His attempt to be casual about it prematurely dies when he just can’t hide the eagerness in his voice as he unwraps his arms from around you and asks, “Shall we get the blanket out now then?”

You’re blushing fast and easy under his stare but you act nonchalantly to appear like the suggestion hasn’t made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I need to finish wrapping before we cuddle, Mister Healy.” You did need to do it but it was more so you had more time to get your bearings together.

His face falls slightly, remembering he came unannounced. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Don’t apologise at all.” It’s a quick response because truly it was nothing. He had just made your day by dropping by and the fact that he wanted to stay had you giddy to see what could happen throughout the evening.

You and Matty laugh and talk about what your Christmases are usually like when you go back home as you sit on the floor just in front of him and finish wrapping. And you love that you both get on like a house on fire, you could honestly sit and chat to him for days on end and not get bored or annoyed by him.

Matty is keen to know a lot about you though, and you tell him anything he wants to know. Where you grew up, how you met Amelia, what your school was like for you, when did you move to London. And Matty loved listening to your anecdotes. He really wasn’t joking when he said that he would listen if you started a podcast. He loves the sound of your voice.

When you finish wrapping, you put all of the presents back into the bag so you can easily take them back into your room. You tell your guest that you’ll be just a minute and you walk back to your room and put the bag of presents beside the rest of them.

As you’re about to head back out to Matty though, you spot the big cardboard box in the corner of your room that hasn’t moved for months and it’s like a lightbulb goes off in your head. You rush over to it and open it and you praise the lord when you see everything’s still in there.

When you and Amelia first started doing chicken shop dates, you never thought that there would be a demand for merch to go alongside it. But now your current collections are entirely sold out on your website as you wait for new stock to come in. However, here in your room are the samples that were made and after stealing your own, you left the other ones in the box.

Quickly, you pull out a black one that has the chicken shop date logo in an arrow heart where the breast pocket would be on a shirt. It's a simple design but you absolutely love the hoodies as they’re so soft, you always have yours on.

You get a larger size out, recalling Matty’s instagram stories and how he’s always in baggy jumpers and you hope to god he likes it enough to accept as a very last minute present.

You’re about to step out of your room when you realise it’d be better if he closed his eyes so he could still be surprised as you can’t wrap it now. So you call out to him from your bedroom door, “Hold out your hands and close your eyes.”

He turns and frowns at your instructions, which makes you thankful you’d already hid the hoodie behind your back. Matty asks you, “Why?”

You plead, your voice soft and hopeful, “Please just do it...”

And just because of how you say it, he agrees to it with a simple, “Okay.”

You see him close his eyes and turn back around so he’s facing the right way again, and you quickly walk back around and stop in front of him. His hands are out waiting like you instructed him to and you hope to God he likes it.

“Okay open.” You instruct with excitement in your voice.

Matty opens his eyes right away and his jaw falls slightly, wanting to coo at the gift. “Oh my word, chicken shop date merch!”

The singer holds up the hoodie in front of him to check out the full thing and he genuinely loves it as he didn’t actually know you did merch. It’s a lovely surprise and he definitely will be wearing it. He feels like an excited child despite him playfully joking, “It's just what I wanted.” as he knows it’s a last minute present. But he doesn’t care, he’s over the moon.

Matty drops the hoodie to the side of his lap and he opens his arms to signal to you that he wants a hug. You giggle at him as you lean down and clutch him as tight as you can in the weird position of you standing and him sitting.

But Matty pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him for a moment so he can trap you in a crushing hug, “Thank you.”

His reaction to the hoodie is so cute to you and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. You say softly into his ear, “I will get you something better I promise, it's all I have here on short notice.”

But Matty shakes his head lightly before pulling back. He makes sure to put the hoodie on, over his shirt before he says, “Don't get me anything, this is all I need. This will be staying on for Christmas dinner.”

You giggle seeing him completely drown in the piece of clothing, the sleeves hiding half his hands so only his fingers are opting out of them. “I can get you a smaller one if you want it less baggy.”

“No, baggier the better.” Matty assures, “More cosy… Come here.”

He snakes his arm around your waist and brings you flush into his chest, leaving kisses all over your face in gratitude, finishing off by trapping your lips in a soft long kiss.

You both take advantage of the daze the kiss leaves you in so it’s no overthinking and no questions when you continue kissing for a little bit. You really wanted to keep them coming but you find yourself shying away as you overthink a little what’s happening.

So you lean back to look at him, all rosy cheeks, dishevelled hair and reddened lips, those brown eyes looking all around your face and his gaze is so intense that it has you needing to stand up from his lap and take a deep breath as you cover it by getting the heated blanket that was forgotten on the floor.

You slowly open the box, taking out the blanket and resting it on the arm of your bigger settee. And then you suddenly act all interested in wanting to read the instructions for it as if it took more than putting some batteries in and pushing a few buttons but it was just so you could ignore the way you felt he was staring at you.

With the way your hair had fallen to cover the sides of your face, you couldn’t see him but you just knew he was smirking watching you act like he wasn’t there just because you’d gotten flustered a minute ago on his lap.

“We’re finally gonna cuddle then?” Matty teases, making you roll your eyes from the way his voice made you feel.

You hum with your eyes swimming around the letters on the small piece of paper, not acknowledging nor putting together any of the sentences in your head because you were just fully distracted.

What had just happened had all gone to your head in thoughts that you can’t be having in front of him. Not yet anyway.

“Was thinking maybe we could watch a film and check if this works.” You finally turn around to see him then, he watches the way you take in a deep breath when you see him with legs spread wide as he’s lazily sitting on the other settee.

“I’ll just go get some batteries. Be right back.”

You escape to your room like a ghost was chasing you, and he laughs to himself taking in the ease he had to make you react. It made him feel gooey inside knowing that it was all genuine, having the first hand experience of the character you used for the videos and comparing it to how you were with him now.

It doesn’t take you long to come back and he watches you as you carefully put the batteries in and the huge smile on your face when you turn the heater on and the blanket starts warming under you hand.

Matty matches your grin, incapable of keeping it from reaching his eyes as they wrinkle at the edges from just watching you. “D’you like it?”

You look almost amazed at it and so you don’t hesitate to look at him and nod enthusiastically, “Love it.” The heat going up just makes you impatient to get under the blanket so you plop down on your big settee and quickly throw it over yourself.

Snuggling yourself into your settee and clutching the blanket tightly to yourself, you realise he’s still sitting where he had been the whole time.

You frown at him and sound almost annoyed when you think about having to lift the blanket back up after having gotten comfortable. “What are you still doing over there? Come here.” And the way you wave him to come over to you has him smirking.

His steps are slow to tease you and when he finally gets to the edge of the settee, he just stands there looking down at you with the smirk still on his face. “Where do you want me?”

Matty bites his tongue not to laugh when you sigh and roll your eyes with fake exasperation, “Just sit down here, you idiot.”

He makes a show out of getting under the blanket and snuggling up to you. His arm comes around your waist to bring you closer to his side and groans exaggeratedly in pleasure as he gets comfortable.

His lips brush against your temple when he says, “This is well nice.” It makes you shiver despite the growing warmth and he chuckles in your ear at that. “You okay?” His question is playful, trying to tease you but careful enough not to make you uncomfortable.

Shyly you mutter a, “Yes” that sounds more like a question and you pray that the films you’ve started to scroll past catches his eyes and he forgets every single of your telltale signs of just how much he affects you.

But he has this way of also settling your nerves down when he jokes, “How are you so nervous when you’ve literally had your tongue in my mouth?”

“Fuck off Matthew.” You push him away playfully, and the way he laughs at you so wholeheartedly makes you melt. That’s why when he pulls you back into him, you fully cuddle him and let yourself have that moment.

You’re scrolling for a very long minute and still can’t decide what to choose so you quietly ask, “Shall we go for a Christmassy one?”

“If you want to.” Matty hums.

In your heart, you really feel like it’s wrong for you not to choose a Christmas movie so you’re quick to look for the one that’s your go-to.

A chuckle leaves him when you click on ‘Nativity’ and it starts playing. So you turn slightly to look at him and frown as if he had just offended your choice. “What?”

He raises one hand and looks serious to play innocent, “Nothing.”

Your eyes narrow at him in an attempt to appear threatening but the expression falls off your face as soon as you hear the intro to the film.

For the next hour and a half Matty sees a different side of you that he just can’t help but smile permanently at. The way you laugh at the things Mr. Poppy pulls, how you seem so moved by Paul’s failed romance and your quiet singing along with the songs that the kids perform.

Matty had never seen something special about the film before but he reconsidered just because of how much you seemed to enjoy it.

The next film you watch is chosen by Matty, and it’s certainly a big contrast to what you’ve just watched because of course he’s picked ‘American Pie’. But you don’t complain though because you’ve not seen this movie in a while and you’ve forgotten how much it makes you laugh.

You only realise it’s late when the film has ended and you find yourself yawning, “I’m so tired.” Your words muffle as you cover your mouth to yawn.

Looking down at you over your shoulder, Matty’s a little surprised at how relatively early you get tired. 1:23am is not a time he finds himself wanting to go to bed anymore, especially after a spell of touring, so he has to ask, “How do you manage when you're on a night out?”

You freeze for a second knowing how much worse your answer is gonna make you look but you quietly admit, “I take a nap in advance.”

Matty chuckles at your answer, “You are…” he trails off not even managing to get exactly what to say because he just finds you so fucking adorable that he feels the urge to kiss you again.

His hand comes to wrap around your neck softly and turns your head to the side so that you can meet him in the middle. You feel his smile on your lips at first but since the angle is tricky for you to keep your direction, Matty ends up having to tighten his hold slightly and when you moan softly in response, he’s gone.

You feel something shift in the air when you twist towards him a little more so you can keep the kiss going. Matty deepens the kiss and it has your heart racing and chest aching with want. You want him so very badly.

When you need air, you pull back and with a spark of confidence, you turn back around to switch the blanket off before you lift it up and stand.

“Let’s go.” You stretch your hand out for him to take and seeing the shadow of mischief on your face, he smirks and reaches out for it.

Walking to your room, there’s that unspoken knowledge that something is about to happen and there’s a buzz in both of you that it’s so clear to see when you catch a glimpse of each other's eyes.

You walk through your bedroom door and the fact that you close it behind you has Matty smirking that you’ve already decided he’s staying in bed with you tonight. Again.

He takes off his shoes under your intent stare that tries to memorise every little thing he does as he moves.

You let your eyes wander around his back, the marked muscles showing through his white shirt, and when he comes to stand back up, you’re caught looking him up and down again.

“Like what you see?”

You shrug, “Meh, it’s alright.” It’s more than alright, way more, but he doesn’t need to know that.

His payback is to get you to show how your body reacts in a very different way to what you’ve just stated. Matty has you moaning just from the intensity he comes back to kiss you, a hand tightly gripping onto your hip and the other wrapped around your neck like he’s learning to know you like.

Matty’s tongue teases your lips open and you accept it eagerly, your hands coming up over his shoulders to sink into his hair. You pull on it as you taste him, swallowing the moan that he lets out. You hum in satisfaction as you note how much louder he’s been in comparison to you.

And Matty seems to know just what you want by the way you pull his hair. So he lets his hand drop slowly from your hip to cup your arse and pull you in firmly by it, pushing his hips forwards at the same time so the friction could get you both.

Your mouth hangs open at the action, exhaling shakily, so you stop the kiss and he smiles right over your lips.

“I thought we were going to bed?” Matty’s breathless words hit your face and the teasing doesn’t make you hide now, it only pushes you further.

“Oh we can go to bed.”

He’s not even sure if he’s heard you correctly when you grab his hand and guide him to your bed. Matty sits down at the edge of it, still taken aback by the switch in your behaviour but he quickly gets into your flow, grabbing a handful of your arse to pull you forward until your thighs hit his knees.

Your bottom lip is trapped in your teeth as you look down at him but your mouth hangs open when his hand drops to the back of your thigh and guides you to bring your knee up and rest it beside his hip.

Instantly, you catch the instruction and you bring your other leg up on bed to fully straddle him. And you don’t even get yourself settled before you meet again in a kiss that grows hungry with the way your hands wander.

One of your hands is tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck while the other is clutching at his shirt, right at where it’s open and showing his Annie tattoo.

Matty has one of his hands cupping your jaw, his thumb rubs softly on your cheek and it's so different to the tight hold he has on your left thigh which you’ll find later to have left the faint mark of his fingers.

It gets carried away, between kisses and shy touches under clothes until he has you flush against his lap and encourages you to move your hips.

You gasp, breaking the kiss and watch as he throws his head back slowly at the friction of your hips rolling slowly on his. Matty’s neck is on full show then and it’s so bare that you feel the urge to start kissing it.

That only has Matty, whose hands are tightly on your hips, helping you move faster in search of relief. He’s waited so long to feel you like this and it’s already driving him insane how much better it is than what he’d been picturing as his hands wandered into his boxers many evenings when he was away on tour.

He knew he’d wanted you ever since the date, but he’d promised himself it wouldn’t happen until New Years or after that. If he was lucky enough for you to want the same thing, that particular day could turn out to be the best new year's eve ever.

But here he is, unable to keep his hips still and his hands to himself. It’s a battle between his mind and his body, so loud in his head but his erratic heartbeat is louder and deafening - all Matty knows is that right now, he needs relief.

So he continues encouraging you, but now he’s also rolling his hips up into you and it’s quickly that he feels himself getting harder beneath you.

You moan into his mouth, loving his hands on you but the friction of the both of your jeans has you really want to get things moving. Suddenly, you break the kiss and push hard on Matty’s chest so his back hits the bed.

It has the singer dizzy but excited and he almost groans seeing you hover over him with a filthy grin on your face before you trap him in another searing kiss. Matty pulls on your waist so you’re flush against him with one hand as the other he continues to encourage your hips to grind against his.

When Matty lets out a long groan, you quickly kiss down his jaw and you move down his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses until you reach the tattoo on his chest. The way his hand roots in your hair has you understanding his silent instructions, he encourages you back up and you only let him feel the brush of your lips and your hot breath as you do.

You can see the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down before he takes a shaky breath. When you reach just under his ear, you leave one last hot kiss to his skin and continue to bite on his ear lobe, pulling on it slowly.

His loud moan makes you let go and pull back with a big smirk, and just because you love seeing him so desperate under you, you look down at him only to roll your hips more intently.

The singer pulls you into another kiss, this one has more urgency than the others though and the tug on your hair makes you whine. Pleased he has some payback, his hand pulls on your waist again, needing you as close as possible. When his hips start bucking up into yours again, like he does in his consumption interlude, all sane thinking on your part dies with the loud moan you let out.

It has Matty smirking and he breaks the kiss so he can kiss your neck like you just did to him. He wants to hear all of the noises he can pull from those pretty lips of yours.  

You’re growing too hot in your clothes as his kisses trail down your skin. You need them off urgently so you can feel his lips move lower than your collarbone. And after another long kiss, you are about to take your top off when he suddenly makes your hips stop at the same time he does.

“I'm gonna need you to stop doing that because I don’t want to shag you tonight.” Matty says breathlessly after he snaps back into himself. Something about the way you looked so sure about this whole thing happening right now was what had him realising he needed to stop if he was to keep his promise.

“Not tonight?” You laugh a little, trying to calm yourself down.

It doesn’t feel necessarily like rejection because you can see the lust in his eyes and how his grip on you is still tight, but it does sting a little that after all that he ‘doesn’t want to shag you tonight’.

Only tonight? You ask in your head, thinking back to see if there was anything you might’ve missed or done that had him decided on not tonight.

But soon you’re brought back out of your thoughts when you sit still on his lap and he shifts under you for a second, a pained frown on his face. You can’t believe you’ve got Matty Healy under you, and you can feel you’ve made him hard. What the fuck. It’s a little difficult to process that it is your reality but thankfully he distracts you again.

“No,” Matty starts still trying to catch his breath but he doesn’t waste more time to explain, he pushes himself up so he’s upright again as he says, “Don’t get me wrong. I want to, but the thought of New Years has been keeping me going Y/N/N, can’t mess with everything I’m hoping for it to be.”

That blows the slight sting away and you’re back to your teasing self again, “Presumptuous of you.” Both your hands come up to fix the collar of his shirt, “Who told you I shag on the first date?”

“Not our first,” Matty corrects you with a raised brow, “And I’ve been here twice before so it's going to basically be our fourth.” Then he brings back your own words to go against you, “And you practically told me on our date that you would shag on the first date too.”

He takes the silence you give him as you’ve been caught between your own words to continue, though this time there’s a smirk on his face. “Besides presumptuous? You were just fucking grinding on me, baby.”

“Well who was encouraging me to?” You just end up laughing at him and he giggles too.

Both of you silently smile at each other for a few seconds then. Just happy in each other's company and being so close, or that is until Matty speaks back up.

“I’m sorry.” Matty says, genuinely feeling bad because of how far he let the both of you get into it and you do look a tad disappointed.  

“Why are you apologising? Don't apologise.” You shake your head and assure him, “It’s fine,” To show your sincerity you peck his lips once more, “More than fine.”

Seeing you smile at him like that has his heart melting. He really likes you, and he can’t wait to take you out on this date next week.

Matty leans in to quickly kiss you again before he brings his jokey nature back. He looks all cute but smug when he says, “We can start the new year off with a bang.”

Whilst that excites you to no end, you have to shake your head, hating how cringe that was. You warn him, “Not if you keep them Dad jokes coming.”

“Yeah, don’t call me daddy.” Matty quite seriously begs.  

“Don’t worry.” You promise him. “I definitely won’t.”  

“Come on,” Matty presses another kiss to your lips and encourages, “Let's get ready for bed.”

“M’kay.” You hum, getting off his lap and turning around to grab some clothes to sleep in.

You’re not even a step away from him when he slaps your arse making you let out a little gasp and to that he only giggles. You can feel how hard he’s smirking so pleased with himself.

Opening your wardrobe, you pick your pyjamas and smile seeing your ‘lol ur not Matt Healy’ top be revealed folded under the top you’re about to put on.

Not wanting to appear like a prude, you take off your top in front of him, letting him see you in your bra and you don’t mind the way his eyes linger on you as excess confidence from earlier is still running through you.

You were about to ask him if he likes what he sees as payback for his earlier question but instead you watch as he groans, “Oh fuck me.”

“I was about to, but you wanted to stop.” You raise your eyebrows at him, loving that you can tease him with that and you grab your pyjama top and let it cover you up.

Matty looks like he’s calling himself an idiot in his head which makes you giggle a little as you undo your jeans and take them off. Despite the eyes on you, the adrenaline from before stops you getting flustered under his gaze and Matty groans at you as you take your bra off under your top and you throw it at him before you head to your ensuite.

Giggling to yourself at his reaction, you let yourself take a breather as you get yourself ready for bed. You’re not surprised that you seem a little flushed as you see yourself in the mirror, but you like the way you look, you look happy.

That’s why when you head back to your bedroom after barely 5 minutes since you unconsciously rushed through your bedtime routine, you have a bright smile on your face that grows bigger when you see Matty already under your covers, shirtless and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Pulling back the covers, you try not to visibly choke when you see he’s just in his black Calvins. You once again have to push back the pure and utter filth that enters your mind as you settle into bed beside him.

Trying your best not to appear awkward as fuck, you shuffle down and get comfy, and even turn towards him after you put your phone on charge. Matty locks his phone after a few seconds, putting it on your other bedside table before he turns back and smiles at you.

“Come here.” Matty says, raising his arm up so you can shuffle closer to him, and you do but you’re not the most confident about it.

You tuck your shoulder under his, so your head can rest on him and you feel his arm go around your back and pull you into him that bit closer. You’ve reverted back to being a little shy and you’re awkwardly wondering where you should put your arm. You don’t know whether to place it on his chest or keep it tucked into yourself and Matty is watching your brain tick over, so he helps you out a little.

“Cuddle me, woman.” Matty instructs, and he teases you, “You weren’t shy ten minutes ago.”

You feel your face flame at the reminder, but you do as you’re told. Your hand ends up resting just at the bottom of the tattoo on his chest and to avoid further embarrassment you take a deep breath to try and make yourself relax a bit more as you snuggle into him, tangling your legs with his.

This has the singer grinning like a fucking idiot. He’s been wanting this since the last time he fell asleep beside you. For months he’s been wanting to hold you through the night again and he silently applauds himself again for restraining from going further with you before because at one point he’d thrown everything he wanted for New Years out the window.

He’s beyond happy he didn’t though. The anticipation of New Years had been eating away at him, made him extremely excited at the mere thought of seeing you again, even more so because of the small amount you’d actually been messaging each other in between. It definitely made things more exciting for him, and he can’t wait for next week already.

Matty pulls you into him a little more, and he kisses the top of your head, smiling as he says, “No tears tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” You laugh knowing he’s teasing you for last time, when you were listening to About You instead of going to sleep. You tell him, “I’ll just cry when I finally hear it live.”

“When are you coming?” Matty asks you, genuinely curious, “O2 shows?”

“Yeah I got tickets for London, Manchester, Newcastle,” You tell him, trying your best not to sound like a massive fucking stalker, and you almost hate it when you add, “And persuaded Amelia to come with me to Belfast even though it’s on her birthday.”

Matty asks, “You’re not coming to the first one in Brighton?”

“I want to be, but I unfortunately can’t.” You sigh, “I won't be in the country.”

Matty leans down to look at you curiously then, “What?”

“It's top secret.” You say seriously, as you’ll get in trouble if the news gets out early, “You can’t tell anyone if I tell you.”

“I swear, I won't.” Matty offers you his little finger and you smile, happily hooking yours around it to seal the deal.

“Me and Amelia have been asked to be the official red carpet hosts at the Golden Globes.”

Mattys jaw drops then and you chuckle as it still really doesn’t even feel real coming out of your own mouth.

“Y/N/N!” Matty suddenly shifts then so your head falls off his arm and he’s hovering next to you so he can see your face properly. He looks so excited for you as he says, “That’s fucking insane!”

“I know.” You grin up at him.

“Tell me everything!” Matty isn’t even joking. He wants to hear how it all happened, and you have no issue with telling him.

You explain how you and Amelia were contacted, the meetings you’ve already had, the research you’ve had to do, the endless films and shows you’ve had to watch and take notes on. And you find yourself being unable to stop smiling, half because what you’re saying still feels so unreal to you, and half because of the way Matty can’t stop grinning down at you.

After him telling you that he’s happy for you and proud of you, you had to sweetly kiss him one last time before you snuggled into him again before going to sleep. Both clutching each other, with huge smiles on your faces.

~*~*~*~

Waking up beside Matty is honestly one of the best mornings of your life. It’s still a little surreal to you that you’d gone from one of your silly interview dates to him now lying in bed next to you, cuddling you as he sleeps.

Despite it being an ungodly hour in the morning - that no one on Christmas Eve should wake up at - you are thankful that you’ve woken up before your alarm went off. Purely because you get to see Matty like this.

There’s no stress or worries that plague him like you’re sure he must go through. He’s not trying to make you blush, tease, or show himself off to you. He’s just simply himself and he’s beautiful.

With that soft pout and his cheek pressed on the pillow, his curls unruly like a halo around his head and you find it so fitting because he truly looks angelic like this.

You’re staring at him and you lose track of time, all your focus on memorising every little detail on his face and really holding yourself back from touching his features delicately like he could break under your fingers.

And as you have an internal debate within yourself about how good of an idea it would be to softly brush Matty’s curls back and out of his forehead and let you fingers trace the outline of his face, you are startled by his voice.

“S’rude to stare.”

You freeze in your spot, drawing your eyes from him to the walls of your bedroom and his chest vibrates next to you when he laughs seeing you blush as he finally opens his eyes.

But then he says, “Good morning baby,” in that low raspy morning voice of his, that almost makes your eyes roll back because you just can’t cope, but then he’s nuzzling into your neck to leave a few kisses on it and you’re blushing even harder.

“Oh she’s shy again now?” Matty teases, watching you get flustered from up close, “Need I remind you what was going on last night?”

“I don’t think that’s gonna help your situation.” You clearly nod to his case of blue balls that he gave himself last night.

“Right,” He accepts the counter argument but when his lips twist in that mischievous smirk of his you know what he’s gonna say next will have you either breathless or laughing at his antics. Turns out is the first, when he continues with, “But who doesn’t enjoy a bit of edging, huh?”

You lick your lips, with a wicked smile of your own from receiving such a valuable piece of information. “Oh, that’s good to know.”

“You’re already making plans in that head of yours?” Matty’s finger comes to poke your temple to which you glare at him.

“I believe you’ve beat me to them actually.” Your eyebrows raise, remembering the mention of how he’s got some expectations set for next week’s events.

“That’s right.” Matty nods, his finger drawing softly down your face until it reaches your jaw and he’s cupping it with his hand, pulling you in to kiss you sweetly.

You’re sure you have ascended because this whole scene sounds so incredibly insane to you that you subtly come to pinch your thigh to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

His hand lowers from your jaw to meet the one over your thigh and it’s then when it all starts getting heated again. Your tongues meet and his touch on your leg leaves a trail of fire under your skin that has you squirming in your place.

But then you remember what happened last night and why you’d stopped so, getting excited over the same prospect of waiting until New Years, you break the kiss.

Your chests meet as they heave in search for oxygen, and you’re so distraught you have no idea what to say so you bring what first comes to mind.

“How’s a Full English sound right now?” You suggest, getting a hold of his hand that was still on your thigh to intertwine your fingers and bring it up to rest on his bare chest.

Matty seems to have loved the idea because he whistles lowly at the thought of food, “Fucking phenomenal.”

You giggle and nod, propping up on your elbows and dropping his hand to get out of bed. “Okay, let’s go sous chef.” Your feet touch the ground and are already taking you to your bedroom door when you turn around to look at him because he lets out a dramatic groan.

You smirk, watching his sluggish movements as he gets out from under the covers and it’s then that you remember he’s only wearing his black Calvins. He stretches and seeing all his back muscles flexing in all of their glory for you makes your mouth water and your thighs clench.

He crouches down to pick up his trousers and right when he’s about to turn to accuse you of staring again, you turn around the quickest you could and leave the room in what you thought was a subtle haste but it really wasn’t. Matty has to bite his tongue not to laugh loudly at your reactions, loving the effect he has on you.

It’s hard focusing on cooking when you have him this close around you in only pants that are purposely hanging low to drive you even more insane, but you manage when you basically challenge him to prove his skills in the kitchen, which end up being none as he only helps you passing you stuff but it was enough for you.

It was either that or having him tease you the whole time while you were trying to make breakfast and that would’ve been incredibly distracting and messy.

Once you’re all done serving your food on two different plates, you both take a seat at your little dining table and it’s a comfortable silence that surrounds you.

“When are you leaving for Los Angeles?” Matty inquires after taking a quick bite of fried egg and toast.

You pause with your fork hovering in the air, almost mid bite, thinking about the endless calls and emails you’d sent and received for this all to happen. "Flying so we arrive the day before," You take your bite of food and quickly eat it as you run through your schedule in your mind. "Flight is the evening of the eighth."

He hums with a cheeky smile on his face, “Okay.”

“What?” You can’t help but ask because why is he asking that and then acting like he’s meaning to cause trouble.

“You know what that means.” He lets himself trail off to bait you into his vagueness, really hoping you’d catch what he means but when your frown grows deeper on your face, he clears it up for you. “We’ve gotta make the most out of the first week of the year.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting but that was certainly not it. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest at the suggestiveness of it and you try to play it cool but you fail at finding any words to get him back so you sigh defeatedly, “I can’t stand you.”

Matty knows you well enough already to know you’re just holding back, so he teases you further knowing he’s right in this. “Sure you can’t, baby.”

After that the rest of breakfast is spent between chatter and soon enough you’re done and helping each other put everything in the dishwasher to go back to bed.

Both of you silently wanted to spend as much time as you could with each other today, knowing that after this it was a week long wait for something you’ve been looking forward to for a while.

So you settle back in bed, hearing the thumping of his heart where your head lays over his chest and one of his arms around your shoulders keeping you flush against his side. You have your remote in hand, scrolling through films to watch and you’re about to intertwine your legs with his when your phone starts ringing.

You both take a little to react to the device, waiting for it to suddenly stop so that you’d feel okay with ignoring it but after it dies down and rings again, you’re groaning about having to peel yourself away from Matty.

The singer hears you swear under your breath when you see your screen and he’s about to ask if everything’s okay when you answer the phone with a very not enthusiastic, “Hi Ames.”

You put the phone on speaker and place your finger over your lip instructing him to stay silent. Matty has the half mind to actually say hello to your best friend as well but he figured he’d give you peace just this one time.

“Are you really still in bed knowing that I’m going over to pick you up in twenty minutes?” Amelia scorns through the phone, and you can hear the sound of a door closing and the jingle of her keys from her side.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” You apologise half heartedly which makes Amelia chuckle in response.

“Got distracted with what?” She challenges you, “With a dream about Matty?”

Your whole face heats up and you wanna die from the way Matty has just raised his eyebrows at you with the biggest grin on his face.

You let your eyes close and take a deep breath before you’re saying, “Jesus Christ Amelia! Shut up!” through your teeth.

“What?” She chuckles loudly at hearing you so worked up about it, “He’s back here I think, you don’t have to dream about it anymore, you can just go shag him if you stop being a pussy and just text him.”

Matty is holding his loud laugh next to you, cheeks blown up from the air he’s holding in not to give away his presence but his face is getting redder by the second from how hard he’s trying not to laugh so you quickly end the call with a “See you later, Ames.”

Right after you’ve pressed the red button to hang up, Matty explodes in laughter and you hide your face in your hands.

“She’s such a bitch.” You whine in your hands and his laughter continues as you hide away mortified.

When his laughter dies down, Matty loops his arms around your waist to pull you back into him with a massive smirk on his face, “Oh baby, now I really want to know what dreams she’s referring to.”

You refuse to let yourself show your face because your cheeks feel like they’re on fire and you just can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes after that.

So he starts tickling you and nuzzling into your neck to have you drop your hands from your face. “Come on, tell me.”

You start giggling at the tickling and eventually drop your hands to hold his hands and stop him from continuing, “There’s nothing to tell, she’s just being a dickhead.” Your eyes only manage a few seconds looking at him before you’re averting your gaze to look somewhere else.

But Matty doesn’t buy it, “Are you sure?” he asks just to see if you’d maybe break but you keep your mouth shut and that makes him leave kisses on your neck to try and get the information out of you that way.

That only gets you flustered so, rather quickly you say, “Yes, very.” and you’re patting his arms for him to let go of you, needing to get ready to leave with your best friend. “I need to shower and get ready.”

You can feel Matty’s pout on your neck but he doesn’t move so you pinch his waist and laugh when he jumps, “Come on, time’s ticking and she hates it when I’m unpunctual.”

Matty groans when you manage to free yourself from his touch and watches as you grab yourself some clothes to lock yourself away in the bathroom.

He doesn’t move from his spot for the whole time, hearing the waterfall for a few minutes before it goes rather silent until you come back out fully dressed with just your hair damp on your shoulders.

When you walk out, you see him smiling at you with his head resting on a pillow, drifting in and out of sleep. You walk up to the bed and brush his hair back, adoring how mundane the setting is. You think how unreal it is that this is your Christmas Eve morning.

Just because you can, you lean down and peck those pillowy lips of his and the smile you receive in return will definitely stay with you forever. Once you quickly ask if it’s okay if you disturb him and dry your hair and he says it’s okay, the buzzing of the hair dryer fills the room.

In your mirror, you can see that Matty is still all cosy in your bed watching you dry your hair. And he stays like that until you’re finished, a smile on his lips, his hair a mess, looking stunning in the simplest of ways.

After you finish drying your hair, you move back over to him and sit down beside him this time. Your hand root back into the untamed curls of his as you grin at each other and he motions for you to kiss him again, which you do so quickly because you know you’re running out of time.

“Get yourself ready, she’s gonna get here any second and I need to lock up.” Your fingers sink deeper into his locks and scratch his scalp slowly, making Matty moan lowly in response.

A smirk breaks on his face immediately after, because he knows that he’s gotten you with that noise and you pull on his hair because the way your stomach flipped at that was not funny. It just reminded you of how down bad you are for him and you swear in your head at it not being New Years already.

Only a week, only 7 days.

With another tug of his hair, he laughs and gets up. Putting his clothes on as you make the bed, he watches the way you fluff your pillows as he buttons his shirt up - his new Chicken Shop Date hoodie going over it. Soon enough, your phone vibrates on your bedside table and it’s a text from Amelia saying she’s outside.

After grabbing his belongings, putting them in the pockets of his coat, Matty turns to see you getting your keys and struggling to hold the bags of gifts you’re taking with you.

The singer finishes getting his shoes on and walks up to take most of the bags from your hands, “Let me help take stuff down and then I’ll leave you to it and drive home.”

“Thank you.” Your smile is sweet as you look at him, but you selfishly don’t want the moment to end like this, so thinking ahead, you instruct him to, “Put them down for a minute.”

Matty frowns at the sudden order, “What?”

“Just do it, don’t ask questions.” You say again and smile harder when he obeys, slowly putting them down on the floor.

You take a step forwards to him, dropping the bags you were carrying without really caring about the damage to them, and cup his jaw with both your hands to pull him into a long kiss.

It’s gentle but determined, taking in every second of it because you know this is the last one until you see him again next week. He goes to deepen it, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tight against him. You hum in satisfaction when your tongues meet, tangling one of your hands in his hair to pull on it but only a little later you’re breaking it just so you don’t get carried away.

Still, you feel like it wasn’t enough so you steal a peck before leaning back and brush his hair back as you stare at him.

You’re both catching your breath when he curiously asks, “What was that for?”

You bite your bottom lip, recoiling into yourself a little bit with a faint tint to your cheeks, “A goodbye kiss because I’m not kissing you in front of Amelia.”

Matty holds his breath for a few seconds and then sighs, “Fucking hell, debating not letting you go home and we pretend it’s New Years now.” You note how he looks down to your lips and then up to meet your gaze again with a hungry look.

Shaking your head, you giggle, “Amelia would batter you, we have a party tonight.”

“Where’s my invite?” Matty jokingly frowns making it sound like it’s the rudest thing you’re not taking him to said party with you.

But you scorn him rather fast, reminding him he’s meant to be somewhere else, “You’re going back to Manchester. You’re already a day late.”

Matty’s smiling hard at you then, just really enjoying the way you make him feel inside. It’s hard to ignore, especially when he’s only felt this way a few times before in his life.

So with giddiness bubbling up inside him just from thinking about what the future could hold, he reminds you, “I'm excited for New Years.”

“Me too.” You admit with the same sparkle in your eyes as he has, and it’s a silent understanding then between you that you’re both on the same page about what you expect to come in the future.

It’s impossible for Matty not to peck your lips one last time as you reach for the door, which makes you stay still for a few seconds after his lips have left yours. You give yourself that brief amount of time to try and process it all but when you realise you might as well go insane trying to, you just grab your bags back up and open the front door to start your walk downstairs.

As you’re locking up, he notes that most of the bags hanging in his hands are full of gifts. The singer debates taking them outside for you first but he quickly realised he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, so he waits with you instead.

Matty walks behind you but since his hands are full, you open the main door of your building for him before you just check your post box one last time.

The singer sees Amelia standing there with her back to him, tapping her foot impatiently on the pavement as she scrolls through her phone. And he can’t wait to see her reaction to his presence.  

“Took you long enough.” Amelia scorns before she turns around and she’s met with someone who is definitely not you.

“Hello Amelia.” Matty’s smirks seeing your best friend's face fall in shock. “Where would you like me to put her presents?”

The singer knows his hair is unruly and he doesn’t care in the slightest, but he can already imagine the things Amelia must be thinking.

“In the boot please.” Her words are slow and her eyes scream just how surprised she is but Matty doesn’t do anything but smile and do as he’s asked.

Amelia however, looks to the door of your building which has just now opened again and has you walking out with the last of your bags. As soon as you look at your best friend your cheeks flush, her shocked yet amused yet knowingexpression has you wanting to go back up to your flat and hide inside there for the rest of the holiday season.

“Hey Ames.” You try to be as normal as possible despite wanting the ground to swallow you whole.

“Hi Y/N. Hi Matthew Healy.” Amelia says loud enough for the singer to hear but she looks to you and you alone with wide, shocked eyes.

You can almost hear her silently screaming, What the fuck did you two get up to last night? Already, you’re nervous for the journey home with her because you’re going to get hounded.

“Thank you for coming getting me.” You smile before looking to the ground so you don’t combust and you put your bags in the boot of the car beside the ones Matty just placed for you.

The singer is trying not to cackle at your reaction to being caught with him. He can guess you’re feeling like a teenager who’s just been caught with a boy in her bedroom by the way you’re shying away from Amelia. Never in a million years did he ever expect you’d get this embarrassed, but he can’t help but find it cute.

“That’s alright.” You hear your best friend tell you, but you just make sure everything is in place before you shut the boot of the car.

Thankfully, Matty saves you from any awkwardness just yet as he comes back to Amelia and embraces her in a big hug, “Dimz, I’ve missed you. You excited for Christmas?”

Amelia smiles and hugs him back, raising her eyebrows at you over his shoulder though and you just press your lips together and shake your head. You know exactly what she’s thinking, but you quickly answer that question for her.

“I am, first time I’ve felt Christmassy for a long time.” Your best friend barely has the brain to answer that because her head is filled with so many questions.

“Good, I’m glad.” Matty smiles, “Please make sure you have a good one. Hope your party goes well tonight.”

Amelia can’t really grasp his well wishes because she just really needs to start asking some things. “I’m sorry, shouldn't you be in Manchester right now? Didn't you write a whole song about that which I’ve been forced to listen tomultiple times?”

Matty rolls his eyes at her playfully, “I'm about to drive back. Had things to do first.”

“Things,” Amelia raises her eyebrows, “Or someone?”

Matty smirks then, deciding he’s giving absolutely nothing away. He just grins like he knows something she doesn’t and winks, “I’ll let your best friend tell you about that.”

Whilst your face fucking flames once again, Amelia and Matty share a look before the singer tells her, “I’m going to say goodbye to her now if I can steal her for a few more minutes.”

Amelia grins and nods, “Please do.”

“Bring it in Dimz.” Matty opens his arms to her for another hug and she happily gives him a hug as they wish each other a Merry Christmas.

But then Matty turns towards you, and he’s still smiling when he gently grabs your hand and pulls you over to his car. It’s a very short silent walk that you both purposely elongate and Amelia would tell you to hurry up but she just wants to witness whatever is about to happen because this was something she was not expecting to see today.

When you get to stand beside Matty’s car, you let your gaze take in your surroundings instead of meeting his eyes because you just don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

It’s all written on your face, really, so he assures you of his plans for the upcoming week. “I’m gonna see you on New Year's Eve. I’m going to Facetime you before then, though, so we can sort out where we’re going.”

“Can’t believe it’s finally a week away.” You breathlessly confess, throwing out of the window any need to act cool about it.

It makes his stomach flip to see how much you mean that, so Matty smiles brightly at you and reciprocates the feeling of impatience, “Better be the fastest week of my life.” And he only makes your heart go even faster when grabs your hands and rubs his thumbs over them to say, “I hope you have the best Christmas.”

You pout at him because of how cute he is, you really can't help it. “You too, please send my love to your family.”

Matty’s soft giggles evaporate in the air before he quickly shakes his head, “No, because my Mum will FaceTime you and she won't leave you alone.”

You frown playfully at him talking about it like it’s a bad thing and scoff, “I’ll be besties with Denise.”

He narrows his eyes at you like saying you’re not sure what you’re really talking about, “I’ll protect you from that for a bit longer.”

You chuckle at him, “Thank you, I think.” Your grin is huge when you say, “Thank you again for my presents.”

“Thank you for mine.” It surprises you that he’s actually enjoyed your last minute gift so you let your eyes drop down to catch the little Chicken Shop Date logo on the left side of his chest and grin brightly at him.

It makes you so happy that Matty likes it but you want to get him something better so you promise, “I’ll get you something better.”

Matty has a massive smirk on his face then, letting his hands drop yours to hold onto your hips, “Got everything I wanted last night.”

That makes your breath hitch in your throat, your brain short circuiting for a few seconds too long before you’re able to get your act together again, “Is your aim to make me die of embarrassment before we get to our date?”

“Sorry, I'll fix it.” He says with apparent honesty but you should know better than to trust the menace of a man because all you feel then is your back getting pressed against the side of his car and his head dipping down to catch your lips in his.

You’re fairly surprised and whilst you’re very aware of Amelia standing there watching this all unfold in front of her eyes, when Matty’s lips are on yours and your tongues meet, you’re completely drunk on him.

His hips press into yours making you let out a small gasp that makes him smirk but you’re both so desperate to keep the moment going for as long as it can last and enjoy every second of it that you don’t break it.

Your fingers are tangled in his curls, tugging on them with an increasing force from how mischievous this all feels.

It’s only when you’re both sure you’re gonna start hurting from the lack of oxygen that you separate and that’s when it also hits you what he’s just done so you narrow your eyes at him with intentions of scorning him.

“You-”

“Cheeky, I know.” Matty grins with trouble written all over his face, but his expression then falls soft to tell you sincerely, “I’ll miss you.”

You swear that if you weren’t trapped between him and his car, your legs would have failed you from hearing that. “I’ll miss you too.” It’s entirely sincere because it is insane the way he’s made you feel in such little time, it all hitting you even harder in the 12 hours you’ve just spent together.

“New years?” You ask and hold your pinky up in front of him.

Matty nods, linking his finger and kissing the end of the promise for you. “New year's, baby. See you then.”

You blush at his actions, completely overcome by how adorable he could be. Unfortunately, you know this is the end of your time with him for now, so you take a step back onto the curb, walking the small distance to Amelia and, once beside her, you watch as he unlocks his car.

As soon as Matty gets into his car, Amelia tells you, “I just took a picture of that and I’m going to show your whole family.”

“Bitch.” You shake your head at her before walking round her car to the passenger side, not letting her taunt you as you want the butterflies in your stomach to last as long as possible.

Just before you get into the passenger seat of Amelia’s car, you look back at Matty’s and you see he’s already looking at you with a huge grin on his face. The singer makes your heart melt once again though when he blows a big kiss at you.

This time you don’t hide how big your smile gets. Instead, you blow him a kiss right back which makes him give you a toothy grin. He gives you a wave as he starts up his car and you don't hesitate to wave back before you tear your eyes away from him.

Getting into Amelia’s car, you can wholeheartedly say you drive home for Christmas feeling the happiest you have in a long long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: We’re just edging everyone at this point hahaha, hope you enjoyed the new Part! The next will be posted on @alovesreading​ account again x

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[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

Chapter 49 Part 2: A Touch Too Far

A/N: We are back at it again, with a new chapter! As an added bonus I will be uploading a teaser for the next chapter, and when I tell you shit will hit the fan… Will y/n fall into temptation, and her defiance be broken, has she finally met her match, will Sanji give into temptation, and sucumb to weakness. Thank you guys for liking and following, along with reblogging my posts! In this chapter we have Sanji POV… Y/N POV… a flashback memory, sparring match between Judge and y/n, Nami POV… Reiju moments and more! This chapter I went back and forth originally. This is also one of my longest word counts, and there is some teasing and light smut. And with out further ado, let the adventure begin!

Word Count: 24.6K

Judge's footsteps echoed through the grand hall, his back stiff and rigid with irritation, as if my defiance had rubbed him the wrong way—though I couldn’t deny the slight hint of curiosity in his eyes. His authority was clearly shaken, even if he refused to show it. Big Mom’s laughter still reverberated in my mind, but her amused gaze shifted to Judge, as if silently enjoying the unfolding drama. She didn’t make a move to stop me; rather, she seemed content to watch the spectacle.

As we moved through the palace, the air felt charged with a certain electricity, the space around us thick with anticipation. My steps were light but purposeful, my heels clicking sharply on the stone floor as I followed behind him. I wasn’t afraid—far from it. If anything, I was eager, ready to finally release the pent-up frustration that had been building within me.

Judge led me outside, into a large training yard surrounded by high stone walls. It was deserted, save for the occasional breeze rustling through the trees, the stillness only adding to the tension in the air. The yard was perfect for what I had in mind—a place where I could finally test my limits, both physically and mentally. The stone ground beneath our feet was firm, offering a steady foundation for a fight, and the walls, imposing and high, held the noise in, amplifying every movement, every sound.

Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji stood off to the side, watching the unfolding scene. Their eyes were intense, but I could see the intrigue in their gazes, each one reacting to the tension that was rapidly building. Reiju, however, was nowhere to be seen—likely busy elsewhere or keeping her distance from the confrontation. But I didn’t mind. This was about me and Judge, and I had no intention of letting anyone else dictate how this would go.

Big Mom, standing off to the side, was grinning widely, her sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. She didn’t speak, but I could tell from her posture that she was more than enjoying the spectacle. It was rare for her to watch a fight so closely, but something told me she saw potential in this sparring match—or perhaps she was simply curious to see how it would unfold.

I grabbed the sword I had chosen for this fight—nothing like the hidden blades or my own sword King had given me, but it would have to do. The weight was slightly off, the hilt not quite as comfortable as my usual weapons, but it would serve its purpose. With a quick flick of my wrist, I inspected the blade, watching the sunlight glint off of it. My heart raced with anticipation, the thrill of the fight already coursing through me.

"Before we start," I said, my voice sharp and focused. "Let me do one final test on the blade."

I turned towards a couple of nearby trees and walked a few steps ahead. I raised the sword, testing its sharpness by slicing through the air in a clean arc, the blade effortlessly cutting into the bark of the tree in front of me. A soft shhk rang out as the bark was sliced through, the precision of my movement satisfying. The sword was ready.

Judge’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of approval passing through them despite the cold exterior. He knew this would be no easy fight, especially when I wasn’t holding back.

"Very well, Y/N," Judge said, his voice low, almost mocking. "Let’s see if your swordplay matches your attitude."

Without warning, he charged forward, his powerful form moving with controlled speed. I could feel the intensity of his presence, the force of his strikes before he even reached me. His first swing was fast and direct, a powerful slash aimed straight at my midsection.

I barely avoided it, ducking under the blow and sidestepping just in time. The momentum of his attack carried him forward, and I quickly darted in, spinning low to the ground and cutting through the air with my blade. I aimed for his shoulder, but Judge reacted faster than I anticipated, his body twisting with surprising agility for someone of his size.

He countered with a swift roundhouse kick, aiming for my head. I narrowly blocked it, the force behind his leg rattling through my core. I stepped back, raising my sword defensively. But Judge wasn’t giving me any time to recover. His strikes came one after another, relentless and fierce—he was testing my limits, trying to break through my defenses.

I managed to dodge another strike, but the force of his swing created a shockwave, pushing me back a few steps. It was then I decided to show him just what I was made of. I performed a quick back handspring, flipping backwards and landing smoothly into a low slide, my feet skimming across the stone. The momentum of the move carried me into a perfect position to strike again.

Judge lunged toward me with another vicious strike, his strike aimed straight at my arm. But I anticipated it. With fluid motion, I pivoted on my back foot, my blade flashing as I swiped it across his clothes. The cut was clean, and I could see the fabric of his shirt tear from the force of my strike. It wasn’t deep, but the message was clear—I wasn’t holding back anymore.

Judge growled, his eyes now burning with frustration. The soft rip of his clothes only fueled his anger, but he didn’t pause for a second. He swung again, even faster this time, trying to land a decisive blow. Strike after strike came, and each time I dodged or blocked, using my agility to stay just out of his range.

I executed a back handspring again, this time landing in a crouch before I pushed off the ground and slid across the yard with a burst of speed. The sharp click of my heels echoed in the air as I closed the distance between us.

"Not bad," Judge sneered, sweat now dotting his forehead. "But you’re not fast enough."

"I’m fast enough to keep you on your toes," I shot back, my grin widening as I felt the fight heating up.

Judge’s frustration only seemed to drive him harder, each movement sharper, more brutal. He came at me once more, but I was already anticipating his next move. I could feel the rhythm of the fight now, every movement flowing into the next, my body moving with instinct and precision.

The yard was alive with the sound of clashing blows, my blade flashing as I parried, blocked, and attacked, Judge’s powerful strikes coming at me like a storm. But I wasn’t just defending—I was finding my openings, striking with calculated precision, just enough to keep him on edge, to make him doubt his own control.

Big Mom’s laughter echoed in the background as the fight grew more intense, but she remained silent, clearly enjoying every moment. "Looks like you're giving him a challenge, Y/N," she chuckled.

The force of Judge's strike landed with a thundering crash, his fist slamming into the ground so hard that it created a visible dent in the stone. The shockwave from the impact rippled through the air, and I felt the ground tremble beneath my feet. But instead of stumbling back, I clenched my left fist, the surge of adrenaline making my body react before my mind had even processed the next move.

I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand.

In one fluid motion, I spun into the air, my body twisting with practiced grace as I propelled myself off the ground. The wind rushed past me, and I could hear the faint whistle of air as my body flipped, my feet tracing an arc toward Judge’s exposed back. I landed silently behind him, crouched low to the ground, my feet firmly planted.

Without hesitation, I swept my sword forward in a precise arc, aiming for his side. The sharp sound of metal cutting through the air rang out as the blade made contact with Judge’s clothing. The strike was clean and swift—his shirt ripped, and a small gash appeared along his side.

Judge’s eyes widened for a brief second, the realization of my speed dawning on him. His body tensed, his muscles shifting as he immediately spun around, aiming to retaliate. But I was already a step ahead. I could see the anger building in his eyes, his hands clenching into fists. His movements were faster now, more unpredictable.

He launched forward again, his strikes faster and more powerful, each one aimed at my head, my chest, my legs, trying to break my rhythm. But I danced around each blow, my movements fluid and instinctive, reacting faster than I thought I could.

"I can do this all day, Judge," I taunted, narrowly dodging another strike, spinning out of the way with a backflip that sent me skimming across the stone. I landed smoothly, turning to face him once more, my sword raised and ready.

Judge’s frustration was now palpable. His attacks were becoming more desperate, more forceful. I could see the veins in his neck pulsing, his jaw clenched as he let out a roar of frustration. His next strike was wild, an overhead swing that came down like a hammer.

I didn’t flinch. I sidestepped just in time, spinning on my heel, my sword coming up to strike. The blade cut through the air, landing another shallow but deliberate cut along Judge's arm.

“You’re getting sloppy,” I smirked, stepping back to avoid another retaliatory strike. Judge’s anger was fueling him now, but his focus was starting to fray.

Big Mom’s laughter rang out from the sidelines, her gleaming eyes following every move. She clearly enjoyed watching this, her monstrous grin never fading. “Ha! Judge, you might want to take a page from Y/N’s book—speed’s your weakness!” she chuckled, her voice carrying across the yard.

Judge, barely holding onto his composure, let out a sharp breath, his glare burning into me. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he growled, but his voice was starting to lose its edge, the tension in it shifting.

I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Every movement felt sharper now, more focused. I was pushing myself beyond what I thought I could do. This wasn’t just a sparring match anymore—it was a test of wills, and I wasn’t going to let Judge’s pride crush mine.

I darted in again, striking with my sword at a quick pace, landing another series of hits that made him flinch. With every blow, I could feel the balance of the fight tipping in my favor. Judge’s movements were slowing, his breathing more labored. He was tiring, and I could tell it was only a matter of time before I would land the final blow.

As the fight raged on, the intensity in the air only grew. The sharp sound of metal clashing against metal echoed in the yard, a testament to the raw power of our movements. Judge’s attacks were relentless, and as I continued to dodge and strike, I could feel the strain in my muscles, my body pushing itself to its limits. Every move was calculated, every attack I made aimed at testing the boundaries of both our skills.

But it wasn’t just the clash of our bodies and weapons that filled the space; the voices of Judge’s sons rang out from the sidelines, cutting through the tension.

“Go, Dad! Show her what you’re made of!” Niji yelled, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and confidence. His gaze was sharp, watching every movement, ready to cheer on his father at every opportunity.

“Yeah, pop! Don’t let her get the best of you!” Yonji added, his voice high with enthusiasm. It was clear that despite their earlier teasing and rivalry, they had their father’s back in this moment. Their cheers echoed through the yard, urging Judge to push even harder.

I gritted my teeth, knowing I couldn’t let these distractions break my focus. With a swift step back, I spun to avoid another strike from Judge, but his speed had picked up once more, and I felt the sharp sting of his blade catch me across my left thigh. The cut was shallow, but it was enough to make me pause for just a split second, the pain of it burning through my leg.

“Damn…” I muttered, gritting my teeth and clenching my fist in frustration. My sword tightened in my grip as I steadied myself, but just as I was about to move again, something caught my eye.

From the corner of the yard, I noticed a familiar figure—Reiju, her signature cool demeanor as composed as ever. But it wasn’t just her I saw behind her; there, stepping into the training yard, was Sanji.

“Sanji?” I muttered under my breath, the surprise making my heart skip a beat. There he was, standing beside Reiju, his eyes locked on mine. A mix of emotions flickered across his face—concern, confusion, and maybe… relief? It was hard to tell from this distance, but his presence in the midst of this tension felt like a stark contrast.

I barely had time to process the sight of him before Judge’s next strike came crashing down, a brutal swipe aimed directly at my arm. I quickly ducked and spun away, narrowly avoiding the blow. But as I did, I couldn’t shake the thought of Sanji, standing there with Reiju.

“What the hell are you doing here, Sanji?” I muttered to myself, focusing on the fight once more. My mind raced—his sudden appearance was no coincidence. Had he been watching the fight the entire time? Or was he here for something else?

Judge, seeing my distraction, seized the opportunity. He launched a flurry of attacks, his eyes gleaming with determination, trying to catch me off guard.

“You should be paying attention to the fight, Y/N,” Judge spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You’re losing focus."

I barely dodged the next strike, hearing the whoosh of air as his strike grazed my cheek, the force of it just missing.

“I’m not losing focus, Judge,” I shot back, my voice steady despite the burn in my muscles. “I’ve just got more on my mind than you think.”

But before I could retaliate, Sanji’s voice, clear and full of concern, broke through the tension, reaching me from the sidelines.

“Y/N, be careful!” he called, his tone not like the usual teasing but something more genuine. "Don't push yourself too hard!" His eyes were filled with worry, and for a moment, I found myself distracted once again.

Judge, sensing the opening, took another strike at me, this time landing a deeper cut along my side. I gasped, stumbling back just a step, the wound throbbing.

“Damn it!” I cursed, holding my side, the pain intensifying as the blood began to seep through my clothes. But even as I staggered back, I knew I couldn’t let this stop me. Not now.

“Get out of my head, Sanji…” I muttered to myself, taking a deep breath and stepping forward once again, determined not to let the distraction cost me.

The fight had reached its breaking point. Judge, seeing his chance to end it, tried to land a final, devastating blow with his sword, his expression one of pure focus and intensity. His attack came down with a deadly precision, the blade slicing through the air toward me.

But I was ready. In an instant, I flipped backward into a handstand, using my arms to push myself up just enough to avoid the sword’s deadly arc. As I twisted my body in the air, my legs shot out, and with a swift move, I grabbed the hilt of Judge’s sword with my feet. The momentum from the spin allowed me to whip the blade out of his grip and send it hurtling to the side.

Judge stumbled, his feet unable to catch up with the unexpected move, and he crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, creating a small dent in the stone yard beneath him.

In that moment, I seized my opportunity. With fluid grace, I dropped down on top of him, landing lightly on his chest, my sword now pointed directly at his throat. The silence that followed was almost deafening, the tension in the air thick enough to cut through.

I smirked down at him, my breath steady despite the adrenaline rushing through me. “I win,” I said with a calm confidence, not giving him the chance to retaliate. The finality of the words hung in the air, a sharp contrast to the flurry of motions we’d just gone through.

Ichiji, who had been standing off to the side, watching the fight intently, couldn't contain himself any longer. He let out a loud cheer, his voice ringing with pride and something else—satisfaction, perhaps. “That's my girl!” he shouted, clapping his hands in admiration.

I turned my gaze to Judge, still on the ground beneath me, his eyes burning with frustration and something darker. “Next time, don’t call me a distraction,” I said coldly, my tone sharp as I dropped my sword to the side. I clenched my left fist, the force of it sending a small shiver through my arm, before I gracefully leaped off him, landing beside him with perfect balance.

I took a step away, ready to walk off with the fight over, but just as I was about to turn, I heard the distinct sound of Judge’s movement behind me. He was up again, grabbing his sword in a swift, angry motion, his intentions clear. He was going to try to attack me from behind.

I didn’t even need to look. With a quick, practiced movement, I spun on my right leg and executed a roundhouse kick, the impact sharp and clean. My foot connected with Judge’s chest with a force that sent him flying past me, his body skidding along the ground before crashing into a stone pillar.

The force of the kick left Judge sprawled on the ground, panting heavily. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with fury and disbelief, but he said nothing.

I watched as he struggled to stand, but I didn’t give him a chance to recover. Instead, I casually brushed my hands off and walked toward the sidelines, ignoring the heavy stares from his sons.

“Don’t come after me again,” I muttered, turning just enough to make my voice heard by him, though my back was turned. “You’re not my equal.” Judge growled in frustration, his fists clenching at his sides as he slowly stood, still nursing the wound to his pride. "How did you know..." His voice was thick with disbelief and irritation.

I paused, turning just enough to meet his gaze, my expression cool and calculated. "I trained for two years, day and night, pushing myself past normal limits," I said, my tone sharp. I felt a subtle hum in the air, a faint glow emanating from my hidden blade—a reminder of the power I carried, hidden but always present. "Sneak attacks? They're my forte. The man who trained me taught me everything I know in the game of battle. And I don’t just fight with strength—I fight with strategy."

Judge's eyes flickered with a mix of resentment and understanding. He knew all too well the value of training, the cost of pushing oneself beyond what was expected. But what he didn’t know was the level I had reached, nor the tools I had learned to use in the heat of battle.

As I turned to walk away, ready to leave the yard and the confrontation behind, I noticed something unsettling: Sanji was gone. My heart skipped a beat, confusion and concern mingling as I scanned the area.

Reiju, ever the enigmatic presence, stood off to the side, a playful gleam in her eyes as she watched me. Her gaze was teasing, but there was something more beneath it—perhaps a hint of amusement or perhaps something deeper, a quiet understanding.

Before I could respond, a guard rushed in, interrupting the moment. “Big Mom! One of the guards has been knocked out, and the prisoners have arrived!” His voice was breathless, and panic flickered in his eyes.

“How was he knocked out?!” Big Mom demanded, her tone sharp and dangerous.

“I—I don’t know, but there’s cream everywhere!” the guard stammered, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.

"Hmm, so they finally found him," I thought to myself, my gaze flicking over to Big Mom in the courtyard as she observed the commotion. I tilted my head, allowing my curiosity to build as I turned toward her.

"Oh my, is everything alright?" I asked sweetly, my voice dripping with feigned concern. It was a game I played well, using my charm to disarm and deceive those around me.

Big Mom gave me a measured glance, but her expression softened as she responded. "It is, my dear. Why don’t you all make yourselves at home, and I’ll deal with this matter personally." With a nod, she followed the guard toward the source of the disturbance.

Just as the guard turned to lead Big Mom out, his eyes briefly landed on me, suspicion flashing across his face. The tension in the air was palpable, but before he could act on his instincts, I quickly clenched my right hand. I pointed discreetly at him, sending a small burst of electricity crackling from my fingers. It hit him just hard enough to make him stumble, throwing him off balance.

“Are you alright?” Big Mom asked, raising an eyebrow at the guard, her tone still calm but sharp.

“Y-Yes, just slipped!” he muttered, shaking his head to rid himself of the disorientation. His unease was obvious, but he quickly masked it, moving to follow Big Mom without a second glance in my direction. I smirked to myself, feeling a small thrill run through me. The guard wouldn't remember what had really happened, and I had left my mark—if only subtly.

Niji, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t contain his amusement. He let out a low whistle as he made his way toward me, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "My, my dear sister-in-law, who knew you had it in you..." He smirked, clearly entertained. "I gotta say, watching that sparring match up close was a real treat."

I raised an eyebrow at him, my tone playful yet teasing. "Glad you enjoyed the show," I replied, letting the words hang between us. I clenched my fists and gave them a quick roll, feeling the satisfying release of tension in my muscles. "Man, I needed that... Thanks for the sparring match, Judge!" I called out with a smirk, I turned my gaze to see Yonji helping Judge to his feet. The older man's pride was clearly bruised, but his posture remained as stiff and regal as ever. They made their way toward us, though I could tell Judge’s thoughts were simmering with frustration.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to get patched up, maybe grab some breakfast from outside, take a shower, and rest once all that’s done,” I said, my voice softening as I felt the exhaustion finally start to settle in. The adrenaline was quickly wearing off, and the fight had taken its toll. My body was sore, my mind a little fuzzy from the intensity of everything. It wasn’t often I pushed myself like that, but the feeling of victory was worth the aches that were now setting in.

Before I could take another step, Ichiji grabbed my wrist, his grip firm, but his expression was a mix of amusement and something more possessive. He held me in place, his smirk never faltering. “Going somewhere, darling?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, the playful undertone carrying just enough command to make me hesitate.

I tilted my head back and forced a tired yawn, trying to play it off. “Just getting patched up,” I replied nonchalantly. “Then I’ll grab something to eat, shower, and probably take a rest. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.” I made sure my words were casual, but there was an underlying truth in them. Kicking ass sure can tire a girl out, I thought to myself.

Ichiji’s eyes glinted with something deeper, a hunger that didn’t have anything to do with food. “Let’s go to my room, then,” he suggested, his voice dropping a few octaves as he moved in closer. “I’ll help you patch that up. Then you can shower, and afterward, we can grab breakfast together. How does that sound?” His tone was suggestive, the kind of offer that made me pause, knowing exactly what he was implying.

Before I could protest, Yonji and Niji appeared out of nowhere, both of them smirking and clearly eager to make a comment on the situation.

“Oh? Playing nurse now, Ichiji?” Yonji teased, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” Niji added, his grin widening with every word.

Ichiji shot them both a venomous look, his jaw tightening as he glared at his younger brothers. “Shut up, both of you,” he snapped, but the edge in his voice only made their grins widen even more. There was something amusing about seeing Ichiji, usually so composed, visibly rattled by his brothers' playful jabs. But I wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed with them or with the fact that he hadn’t gotten his way yet.

As if on cue, Reiju stepped in smoothly, her calm voice cutting through the tension. “I’ll be helping her patch up her wounds, so don’t worry,” she said, her eyes flicking between me and Ichiji. Her calm, no-nonsense demeanor seemed to settle the atmosphere, and I felt a small sense of relief wash over me. She didn’t need to say more; the reassurance was in the way she spoke. I could tell Ichiji didn’t mind her stepping in, but it definitely ruined his plans for a one-on-one session.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, turning toward Reiju with a small smile. “Thanks, Reiju,” I said, grateful for her timely intervention. Ichiji loosened his grip on my wrist, though his gaze remained on me, intense and lingering. He looked like he was about to say something, but I beat him to it.

With a casual glance, I leaned forward and planted a kiss on Ichiji’s cheek. The gesture was brief but intentional, just enough to leave a lingering warmth that made his eyes go wide behind his shades. For a split second, he looked stunned, and I couldn’t help but find it amusing. A small, playful smile tugged at my lips as I watched the effect I had on him.

Judge, who had been standing off to the side, clearly observing everything, stood stock-still as he witnessed the scene. His eyes narrowed, and I could practically feel the annoyance rolling off him in waves. “Really?” he muttered under his breath, his voice tight with disdain. “This childish display is unnecessary.” 

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the intensity of Judge’s glare behind me as his frustration simmered. I didn’t let his words faze me. Instead, I turned back toward him, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Don’t worry, Judge,” I said in a cool, mocking tone, my voice dripping with sweet sarcasm. “I’m just showing some affection to my soon-to-be husband. Is that ever so wrong?”

The words hung in the air, a teasing challenge, as I made sure to get under his skin as much as possible. I could feel the shift in the atmosphere as his face contorted with distaste, and the tension between us tightened.

Judge’s nostrils flared, his grip tightening on the sword at his side, but he didn’t move. He simply stood there, fuming. “You’re playing with fire, girl,” he growled, his voice low and seething with anger.

“Well, it’s a good thing,” I said with a wicked smirk, clenching my left hand, a flame flickering to life in my palm. “I enjoy the heat,” I added, casually uncurling my fingers and letting the flame die down. My eyes locked onto Ichiji’s. “And besides, Ichiji doesn’t seem to mind... do you?” I teased, my voice carrying a playful yet daring edge.

Ichiji blinked, a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes before a smirk tugged at his lips. “Not at all, darling,” he replied smoothly, his voice laced with amusement, though there was a possessive edge there as well. "You're... full of surprises."

Reiju, still standing beside me, gave a small nod of reassurance. I appreciated her steady presence, especially when dealing with the chaos that seemed to surround Ichiji and his brothers. Her calm demeanor helped keep me grounded, even in the midst of Judge’s frustration.

Without another word, I turned to leave, feeling the weight of Judge’s lingering stare at my back. I could almost feel the heat of his anger radiating toward me, but I was too satisfied with the moment to care. The small, victorious grin that pulled at my lips only grew wider as I stepped outside the training yard. One more victory under my belt.

But as I walked away, I could hear Judge’s voice rise behind me, sharp and full of frustration. “This isn’t over.”

I smirked without looking back, raising my hand and making an ‘OK’ gesture in the air with my fingers. “We’ll see about that,” I muttered under my breath, my tone light and dismissive, before turning back to Reiju and continuing on my way.

The sound of Judge’s frustrated growls faded as I walked with Reiju toward the medical ward of Big Mom’s château.

Nami's POV...

“At least Y/N finally has her blade back,” I muttered, looking around at our situation, "Now all we need to do is bust out of here!" Before I could catch my breath, more enemies began pouring in— the same ones who had defeated us earlier.

"What happened here? And where’s the blade you kept for Mama?" Mondour’s voice boomed as he surveyed the scene.

"I... I..." the Cream guy stammered, clearly shaken.

"Never mind that," Mondour snapped, his focus shifting back to us.

With defiance in my voice, I spoke up. "How long are you going to keep us like this? Let me take a shower at least! I'm covered in syrup—it's disgusting!"

Perospero smirked, licking his lips in that eerie way of his. "That sounds lickety sweet, candy girl. But you can complain to Mama."

He set a transponder snail down in front of us, and soon enough, Big Mom’s voice crackled through. "Well, hello there, Strawhat. It’s been a little while, but I commend you for making it this far."

I could see Luffy's expression shift, anger boiling over. "Is this Big Mom?! Let me out now! I have to save Y/N! And wait for Sanji! I will wreck this whole damn island if I have to!"

"Ma-ma-Ma-ma," Big Mom’s laughter rang in our ears, chilling us to the core. "My, my, such spirit. I was disappointed you didn’t bring your whole crew, Strawhat. You had some bold choice of words back on Fishman Island."

"Yeah, I’m still going to kick your ass someday, but right now, I’m only here to stop Y/N’s wedding and get Sanji back!" Luffy’s voice was sharp with determination.

Big Mom didn’t miss a beat. "I’ve heard enough of your bluff. You’re trapped in my book, and that’s where you’ll spend the rest of your meaningless life. Don’t you get it, Strawhat? The battle is over—you lost."

"I’ll fight you right here, right now!" Luffy’s voice roared through the snail, filled with rage. "Hey, are you scared? Come face me! I’m ready for a fight!"

Big Mom's laughter echoed again, a low, mocking sound. "Don’t press your luck. You’re just a rookie, Strawhat. Besides, my officers are more than capable of killing you. But let's make a deal. I’m willing to let you walk out of here with your life���but you have to forget both Sanji and that princess."

"Go to hell!" Luffy yelled, struggling against his restraints, every ounce of fury directed toward her.

Big Mom's tone grew even darker. "Sanji and Pudding’s wedding must run smoothly—they’re important to me. As for that princess, and the Vinsmokes, well... they’re important to me too. I will not have you ruin this. Once we’re having fun, I’ll see what happens then." Her voice dripped with malice.

Luffy's determination never wavered as he shouted back, "You won't have fun at all! I’m taking Sanji and Y/N back!"

"Better yet," Luffy added, his voice growing more intense, "I want to talk to Pudding! She’s my friend, and she helped my crew!"

Before Luffy could get another word in, Perospero struck him, sending him crashing back with a cruel laugh. "You don’t get to make demands here, Strawhat."

And then, Big Mom’s voice cut through the air like a knife, laced with accusation. "Speaking of which, young lady," her attention shifted toward me, "I heard you killed my daughter, Lola."

My heart dropped. "What are you talking about? Lola and I were friends! Lola told me if I was ever in trouble, you would help me!"

Big Mom’s laughter echoed through the transponder snail, but this time it was cold, heartless. "I would do no such damn thing! I want her dead!" Her voice thundered with hatred, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"What…?" I gasped in shock, unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"She’ll pay!" Big Mom continued, her voice filled with wrath. "Mark my words, I want her dead for disobeying me!"

Luffy, still struggling to his feet, shouted back, "You’re making stupid excuses, Big Mom! Lola didn’t get married, and that’s on her! You haven’t become King of the Pirates, and that’s on you! Nothing else to it! Now, get over here and fight me! I’m taking my crew back, and I’ll make you sorry!"

Luffy's resolve was unwavering, his words hitting harder than any attack. The tension in the air was thick, and I could feel the weight of Big Mom’s fury mounting. 

Sanji POV… 

I stormed into my room, slamming the door behind me, the walls rattling from the force. My blood was boiling, my mind racing. I couldn’t believe she’d been out there sparring with that bastard Judge, willingly stepping into his twisted game. The second I saw her getting distracted, struggling to dodge him as well as I knew she could, and that slight wound on her thigh… I knew I had to leave. If I stayed, I might’ve done something reckless. But it gnawed at me—she wouldn’t have gotten injured like that if I’d been there. My chest felt tight as the frustration surged, and I felt like punching a hole through the wall.

I took another drag, letting the smoke settle in my lungs, but it did nothing to steady the turmoil raging inside me. My mind was spinning with images of her fighting Judge, enduring wounds she never should have taken. The sound of her voice echoed in my mind, clear as day, and the thought of her struggling out there alone—it drove me mad. She’d always been strong, fierce enough to face anything head-on, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d let her down.

“Damn it!” I growled, kicking a chair across the room with a force that splintered the wood. The room was quiet, save for the crackling of the burning cigarette and my own rapid breaths. How did it come to this? How had I let things slip so far out of control? All my efforts to protect her, to keep her out of this Vinsmoke mess, had led her right into the eye of it. And now, she was paying for my failures.

The biting thought cut through, dark and unrelenting: Why do you care so much? You walked away, remember? I clenched my jaw, hating the truth of it. You left her, I repeated to myself. You left her to deal with all of this alone. My chest felt tight as I whispered, “I’ll always care about her… doesn’t matter what happens.”

It wasn’t just guilt—it ran deeper than that. She had always meant more to me than anyone else. More than I’d ever admitted. She was more than a friend, more than just another person I wanted to protect. She’d been the one person who saw past all the armor I put up, the only one who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. And now, I wasn’t there to protect her. Not like I should’ve been.

My mind drifted back to the day we first met. It felt like a lifetime ago, in a world that seemed simpler. 

Flashback:

Luffy was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement, oblivious to anything but his mission to get Y/N on the crew. The way he offered an invitation was as if we’d all known each other for years. And Y/N—she was standing there, clearly amused by his enthusiasm but holding her own, not so easily swayed.

“Are you sure?” she asked, tilting her head with a grin as she gave us all a once-over. The look in her eyes was sharp, assessing, like she was measuring us up, one by one. But there was something else too, something softer, like she was considering that maybe, just maybe, we were worth her time.

“Of course!” Luffy replied, that unstoppable grin stretching across his face. “If I’m going to be King of the Pirates, I need the best crew out there! And you’re one of them! Besides, you saved me back there in Alabasta, remember?”

She laughed a little at that, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t going to let a marine like Smoker lay a hand on you or anyone else for that matter. Vice Admiral or not.” Her voice held a fierce determination, a quiet strength that I found myself admiring.

When her gaze swept across the deck and landed on me, my heart did a somersault. Her eyes were captivating—sharp, confident, but playful. In that split second, I felt my breath catch, my pulse speeding up in a way I couldn’t control.

“Sure, why not,” she said finally, stepping onto the ship with that teasing smirk that I was already beginning to love.

Zoro was there in a flash, extending a hand in welcome. “Guess I’m the first to greet you officially. Zoro,” he said with a cocky grin.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused. “I know you—Pirate Hunter Zoro,” she replied, a hint of mischief in her voice. “I must say, you look better in person than on your wanted poster.”

Zoro chuckled, taking the compliment with a bit more swagger than usual. She noticed the swords strapped to his side and gave an appreciative nod, her eyes sparkling. “Three swords—that’s a unique style. Impressive.”

Zoro seemed to bask in the attention, nodding. “I don’t mind showing you a few moves sometime,” he said, flashing her a rare smile.

She laughed again, and this time, I caught myself just watching, drawn in. That laugh was something else—light and genuine, like she was already starting to feel at home here.

“Well, then,” she turned to Zoro, still grinning, “you’ll be the first I call on when I need a sparring partner.”

“Don’t get too close to him; he’s not the best with directions,” Nami chimed in, making her way over to greet Y/N. "Hi, my name is Nami."

Y/N smiled warmly at Nami as she extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Nami. I’ll make sure to keep Zoro on track,” she said with a wink. “If I get lost too, I’ll just follow the mapmaker.”

Nami laughed, patting Y/N’s shoulder. “Good luck with that. Keeping this crew on course is a full-time job.”

Y/N chuckled before looking down at Chopper, who was practically glowing with excitement. She scooped him up, hugging him close. “Well, aren’t you the cutest reindeer I’ve ever met?” she said, causing Chopper to squirm and blush, his little hooves waving in the air.

“I-I’m not cute! You’re just flattering me!” he stammered, but his eyes sparkled, betraying his delight.

Then Usopp stepped forward, looking a bit uneasy. “Uh, hi! I’m Usopp!” He fidgeted, glancing between Y/N and the rest of the crew. “I’m…uh…the legendary sniper of this crew!” he added, trying to sound impressive despite the tremor in his voice.

Y/N grinned, crossing her arms. “A legendary sniper, huh?” she echoed with a playful smirk. “I guess I better stay on your good side then, huh?”

Usopp straightened, his confidence bolstered by her reaction. “Exactly! With me around, you’ll be safe from anything!” he said proudly, puffing out his chest. “I mean, I’ve faced giant sea monsters and taken down entire armies!” He hesitated, realizing he might be overdoing it, but Y/N’s encouraging nod kept him going.

“That sounds amazing, Usopp!” she said, her eyes wide with mock awe. “With skills like that, I’m lucky to be joining such a strong crew.”

Luffy laughed, patting Usopp on the back. “See, Usopp? She knows greatness when she sees it!”

As she continued to explore the ship, taking in every detail with keen interest, Luffy couldn’t help but beam with pride. "So, what do you think?" he asked, grinning widely.

"I like it," she said, glancing around, clearly impressed. 

But before I could bask in her approval any longer, she turned to Ace, flashing him a grin that made my stomach twist. "Now who might you be?" she asked, clearly intrigued. "Love the hat, by the way. Are you always this shirtless?"

Ace stepped forward with his usual swagger, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm not in the crew. I'm part of a different crew, pretty sure you may have heard of them—Whitebeard Pirates."

The moment he spoke those words, my blood ran cold. But I forced myself to keep it together. I had no right to be jealous—right?

Y/N tilted her head, her grin growing wider. "Oh, I’ve heard of them. And I know you guys call Whitebeard 'pops.'"

My jaw tightened, and my eyes narrowed as I watched the exchange. There she was, completely at ease, teasing him, her playful tone ringing in my ears.

“How do you know my captain?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Ace’s grin turned a little cocky. "I'm his older brother," he said, flexing his arms like he was trying to show off. "I'm also the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates."

I couldn't help it. My hand clenched into a fist, and I scowled.

That damn swagger of his…

There was no doubt in my mind that Ace was enjoying every moment of Y/N’s attention, and I couldn't stand it. My gaze shifted between them, and I felt a deep, burning frustration that I wasn’t getting her undivided attention. She was so captivating, and now Ace was getting a taste of it too.

I had to keep my cool. After all, I was Sanji—the cook, the ladies’ man. But it didn't stop the annoying knot in my stomach.

"Second division commander, huh?" Y/N said, her voice teasing yet full of admiration. "Impressive, Ace. Looks like you’ve got some stories to tell."

He flexed again, clearly basking in her attention. "I’ve got plenty," he said with a wink, before giving a mock bow.

Luffy burst out laughing, slapping Usopp on the back. "See, I told you she'd be perfect!"

Y/N laughed along with him, clearly enjoying herself. "Well, I do owe Ace here a bit of thanks," she said, turning to face him. "When I was fighting those marines, saving Luffy, Ace helped me out as well."

To my horror—and Ace’s surprise—she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, a soft, genuine gesture of gratitude. "And for that, I'm thankful," she said, her smile warm and sincere.

Ace’s face instantly turned red, and I couldn’t stop the annoyance from bubbling up inside me.

"Ace! You're blushing!" teased Luffy, who was practically rolling on the ground laughing. "I knew it! She’s got you!"

I seethed quietly, my fists clenched at my sides. This was too much. Was I really going to let this happen?

That’s when I decided it was time for my grand entrance.

I strutted into the room dramatically, carrying a small slice of dessert on a delicate plate and a cup of tea in my hand.

"Ohhh, my sweet, thank you, dear ocean, for bestowing this beauty upon us," I declared, my voice dripping with flair as I approached Y/N.

She looked pleasantly surprised, her eyes lighting up as she took in my theatrics. "Why, that’s very kind of you. Thank you!" she replied, her smile brightening the atmosphere around us like the sun breaking through clouds.

"Actually," she continued, her voice a little hesitant, "I was wondering if you might have a different choice of drink—perhaps wine or sake?" she asked, almost apologetically, as though she feared she was asking too much.

Before I could respond, ready to swoop in with my own offer, Zoro stepped forward, a smirk on his face.

"I could show you where we keep the good stuff," he said, his usual gruffness tinged with an unexpected hint of charm.

My eye twitched. Was this guy really trying to put the moves on her? Of course, I couldn’t just stand there and let him steal my moment. Not happening.

"Not bad, Zoro," I thought, suppressing a chuckle as I watched him try to outshine me. But deep down, I felt a flicker of annoyance. Why did he think he could impress her just by offering her drinks?

Y/N glanced at Zoro, an amused expression tugging at her lips. "I appreciate that, but I might need a guide who won’t get lost on the way," she teased, raising an eyebrow. I couldn’t help but admire her sharp wit—that’s my girl.

Zoro shrugged, unfazed, but I could tell his confidence had taken a small hit. "I won’t get lost. Just follow me," he said, crossing his arms like he was still in control.

"All right, lead the way, swordsman," she said with a smile, her playful attitude sparking a competitive fire between us.

As they walked off, I stood there for a moment, trying to push the annoyance down. What was it about her that made everyone want to impress her? She had this magnetic pull, this undeniable charm that made even the toughest of us—Zoro included—act like fools.

But then, just as Y/N was about to follow Zoro, she paused. My heart skipped a beat when she glanced back at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I didn’t know what she was up to, but the playful grin on her face sent a rush of warmth through me.

Without warning, she leaned in, and before I could even react, her lips brushed against my cheek in the softest kiss. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped several beats. The touch of her lips was a fleeting moment, but it felt like an eternity in the best way.

"Thanks for the dessert," she said, her voice light and sweet, her smile radiant as she pulled away and continued after Zoro.

I stood there, frozen for a moment, still feeling the tingling warmth where her lips had touched my skin. Did she just—?

“Anytime, my beloved!” I yelled, swooning dramatically as I placed a hand to my chest. My voice cracked slightly with excitement, but I didn’t care. She kissed me. She kissed me!

My heart soared as I watched her walk away, her eyes glancing back at me one more time, the sparkle of mischief still dancing in them. It was all I needed to see.

Flashback Over… 

That was just one of many memories I had with Y/N. The more I paced back and forth, the more my mind kept racing. “It’s fine, it’s fine, damn it," I muttered, trying to reassure myself. "Luffy and the others won’t get hurt, and the Baratie will be saved too." I clenched my fists, knowing full well that there was one thing still gnawing at me. Y/N’s wedding.

“I can’t let that bastard do something to her,” I gritted my teeth, picturing Ichiji standing next to Y/N, having his moment with her soon. The thought alone made my blood boil.

"I shouldn’t keep thinking about Y/N,” I thought, trying to push her out of my head. “I’m getting married tomorrow, and so is she." The words tasted bitter in my mouth. "Why can’t I be grateful? Pudding’s all I got, and who could hurt a sweet girl like her? I must be some kind of monster…”

Suddenly, a soft knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Yes?” I called out, but there was no answer. Confused, I opened the door to find Pudding standing there, looking hesitant.

“Pudding? Is everything alright…?” I asked, concern lacing my voice.

Without a word, she stepped inside and pulled me into a tight embrace, catching me completely off guard.

“Sanji… is it alright if I stay with you tonight?” she asked, her voice soft, almost vulnerable.

“Pudding… but why would you—" Before I could finish, she silenced me with a kiss. My entire body froze, not expecting it, but soon after, I felt her warmth, and instinctively, I kissed her back. Was it like Y/N? No. But I wasn’t going to push Pudding away now.

After a few moments, she pulled back, her eyes wide and unsure. "Oh my… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

This time, it was me who cut her off with a kiss. I was lost in the moment. Maybe it was the pressure of tomorrow’s wedding, or maybe I was trying to distract myself from the chaos in my heart, but for now, I let myself get lost in the comfort of the moment. "I won’t let you down, Pudding... I’ll shower you with love,” I said, trying to sound as genuine as I could, swooning at the thought. But no matter how hard I tried, that nagging feeling in the back of my head wouldn’t go away.

Y/N.

Her image flashed across my mind, even as I held Pudding close. I pulled back slightly, gazing down at her, and smiled, trying to shake off the unease. “Let’s take a nap,” I suggested softly, “it’s been a long day for both of us.”

Pudding nodded with a small, content smile and cuddled up against me, resting her head on my chest. I could feel her breath, steady and warm, as she relaxed into me. My heart started racing, but not just because of her.

As I laid there, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressed down on me. Y/N’s wedding tomorrow. Mine too. My mind was a whirlwind, filled with conflicting emotions. I was about to marry a sweet girl who loved me, but why did it feel so wrong? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about Y/N?

I let out a sigh, careful not to disturb Pudding, but I couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at me. No matter what happens tomorrow… things will never be the same. 

Y/N POV… 

"I don't know, Reiju... I have doubts about Pudding," I muttered as she carefully bandaged up my wounds, making sure it was tight but not too constricting.

Reiju’s eyebrow lifted, her curiosity piqued. "What makes you say that?"

I sighed, trying to put my thoughts into words. "Call it a woman’s intuition, but I think she’s hiding something. I don’t know, I just... feel weird about her. No one’s that sweet and nice all the time."

Reiju hummed thoughtfully as she continued tending to my injuries. "And?"

"Well," I continued, "it’s not just that. She gets on my nerves too, but that’s more of a personal issue than anything. Still, something about her doesn't sit right with me."

Reiju nodded as if she understood more than she let on, her voice lowering to a near-whisper. “You’re not the only one…”

I was about to press her for more details when a sudden knock on the door interrupted the moment. My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t expecting anyone—and I really wasn’t in the mood for interruptions.

The door swung open, and Ichiji stepped inside, his usual confident smirk plastered on his face. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, a gesture that somehow felt more like a trap than a mere action.

"Ichiji, what are you doing here?" Reiju asked, her voice laced with a mixture of suspicion and annoyance. She didn’t seem thrilled by his sudden appearance, and frankly, neither was I.

Ichiji didn’t flinch, his gaze turning to me, where my injuries—bandaged fist, left thigh wrapped, side wrapped, and the corset with a small hole—were plainly visible. His smirk grew wider as he made his way toward me.

"I came to see how my fiancée is doing," he said, his tone almost mocking, as though I were just another trophy he was trying to showcase. I could feel the tension rising, but I kept my gaze steady, not allowing him to get under my skin.

"Reiju, can you please leave my fiancée and I alone?" Ichiji's words were firm, the command unmistakable. His tone brooked no argument, as if my personal space and privacy meant nothing.

Reiju, caught in her own internal conflict, sighed deeply before reluctantly nodding. She glanced at me, her eyes betraying her concern, but she didn’t say a word. The click of the door locking behind her seemed to echo in the silence that followed. I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, knowing Reiju was still nearby, and that she didn’t like this arrangement any more than I did.

Ichiji’s eyes locked onto mine, and I immediately noticed the way he moved closer. The space between us felt too small, too suffocating.

"Let’s go to Germa, for breakfast," he said casually, as though the suggestion were the most normal thing in the world.

I froze, blinking in disbelief. "That’s as far ass ride?!" I blurted out, taken aback. I didn’t want to go to Germa. I didn’t want to leave here, especially not with Luffy and Nami still being held captive. The thought of being so far from them was unbearable.

Ichiji’s smile didn’t waver as he leaned in slightly, his words cutting through the air. "Too bad, the Calicoat is outside waiting."

I couldn’t hide my confusion. "The Calicoat?" I repeated, my voice laced with uncertainty.

Without another word, Ichiji placed his head on my chest, his action so intimate, so invasive, that I couldn’t help but recoil slightly. "Let’s not waste any more time, my dear," he said, his voice lower now, almost as if he were trying to soften his words to draw me in.

Before I could respond, his lips brushed against my skin, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of my chest. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped my lips. I immediately regretted it, but his smirk grew even wider as he felt the reaction. He seemed to savor it, his lips trailing down further, as if he were marking his territory.

Ichiji pulled away just as I was about to protest, his eyes dark with satisfaction. "Let’s get some breakfast," he said with an amused tone, clearly enjoying the way my body had responded, even if I was not thrilled about it.

Before I could react, he yanked my arm with surprising force, pulling me to my feet. I stumbled, but he didn’t let go, his grip unyielding. "Can I at least shower and change...?" I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper, but full of frustration. The idea of facing the day in these clothes was unbearable.

"Nope," Ichiji replied smoothly, his smirk never faltering. "You can do that when we’re in Germa."

"Damn it, Ichiji!" I growled under my breath, frustration building inside me. With all my strength, I tried to yank my hand free, but his grip was ironclad. I tried to punch him, aiming for his side, but it was useless. He was faster, and before I knew it, he effortlessly lifted me up and placed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down!" I shouted, kicking and hitting him with everything I had, but he didn’t budge. His shoulder felt like a stone, his movements calm as he adjusted me slightly, clearly unaffected by my struggles.

I continued to squirm, but my attempts to break free only seemed to amuse him more. "You’re not going anywhere until I say so," he said, his voice almost smug.

Every inch of my body screamed in defiance, but Ichiji was too strong, and I was left helpless against his grip. Despite my best efforts to break free, all I could do was watch as we exited the medical wing of Big Mom’s chateau and headed for the unknown, my heart pounding with frustration and anger. I hated feeling this powerless.

.

.

.

After a few minutes of struggling, we reached the Calicoat, a grand, horse-drawn carriage with intricate designs etched into the wood. The horses stood patiently, their reins held by a soldier who was clearly waiting for us to board. Ichiji gave the soldier a brief order to head toward Germa, and the vehicle started rolling as we climbed inside.

I crossed my arms tightly in front of me, glaring at Ichiji from the other side of the carriage. My mind raced with thoughts of escape. If I didn’t have these damn bracelets, I thought bitterly, eyeing the cuffs on my wrists. Ichiji had locked them on, ensuring I couldn’t slip away. Another damn claim on me.

Ichiji seemed unfazed by my anger. He leaned back in his seat, his expression smug as always, and casually called over to me, "Come on, fiancée."

The word felt like a slap across my face, mocking me, a reminder of how helpless I was in this situation.

I shot him a venomous look from across the carriage but kept my mouth shut. Ichiji wasn’t bothered by my silence. In fact, his smirk only widened as he leaned forward, the same cocky gleam in his eyes that I had come to hate.

"I still have that hostage of yours," he said, his voice low, filled with that familiar arrogance. "So, I suggest you do as I say."

His words were meant to remind me of the leverage he held over me. Another thought came to mind as I sat there, fuming yet trapped in this situation. I have to play along, I reminded myself. King’s life is in jeopardy, which meant I couldn’t afford to make any wrong moves. I needed to act dumb, feign submission, and keep Ichiji from suspecting anything while I figured out my next move.

With a heavy sigh, I turned toward Ichiji. I knew it would make me feel sick to do it, but it was the only option for now. Slowly, I shifted and laid my head down on his lap, forcing a smile onto my face.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice dripping with false sweetness, barely able to hold back the bile rising in my throat. "I guess with this whole wedding fiasco, me not eating, and the sparring match, it made me a bit cranky. I’m sorry, tiger."

The words felt like poison slipping off my tongue, but I pushed through the act, pretending to be docile and apologetic. The sheer sweetness of my apology was enough to make me want to gag, but it was the only way to keep Ichiji distracted and off guard. His smug grin only grew wider, seemingly pleased by my so-called "change of heart."

Ichiji ran a hand through my hair, his voice softer, almost satisfied. "It’s alright, fiancée. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately. Just relax, and I’ll take care of everything."

As I forced myself to lie there, pretending to be the dutiful fiancée, my mind raced. I knew I couldn’t let my guard down completely, not with King’s life hanging in the balance, but for now, I had to keep up the charade. I had to bide my time, play the part, and wait for an opening.

We finally arrived in Germa, and as the Calicoat came to a stop, the Germa soldiers began to cheer for Ichiji’s arrival. Their voices echoed with excitement and anticipation as they recognized his arrival.

"Master Ichiji is here!" one of them yelled, his voice full of reverence.

"His wife as well, it looks like she may have been injured," another soldier commented, his tone laced with concern.

"Ohhh no, I hope she is doing alright? Get better soon, Mrs. Vinsmoke!" one soldier yelled, causing me to falter for a brief moment. The idea of being called that sent a sickening wave through my chest, but I pushed it down and maintained my composure.

Ichiji stepped out of the Calicoat, his usual smug grin plastered across his face. He extended his hand toward me, and reluctantly, I took it. With my other hand clutching my side, I made my way down the steps, walking hand in hand with him, my every movement calculated to keep up the facade.

"Princess! I hope you feel better!" one soldier shouted, his voice full of exaggerated sympathy.

"Just look at the young master, he is being so careful with his fiancée," another soldier said, shedding a small tear. What the hell... I thought, gritting my teeth. I had to smile and play along, my stomach twisting at the sight of these people idolizing this twisted arrangement.

"Thank you all for your well wishes, I just had a small accident," I said, offering them a forced, pained smile. The crowd cheered louder, their adoration growing with every word I spoke.

"Thank you all for your concerns, we will be heading to get breakfast and then be back to the château for our wedding," Ichiji said with a smirk, his hand still holding mine as we moved through the crowd. The soldiers cheered even louder, their enthusiasm infectious, but I couldn’t let it fool me. This is all part of the show. Just keep playing along, I thought.

Ichiji, suddenly full of theatrics, scooped me up bridal style, his grip firm and possessive. I felt my body tense, but I didn't fight it. My heart raced, both from frustration and from something I couldn't quite pinpoint yet. 

"Look at that! They’re so in love!" one soldier yelled, his voice filled with excitement.

The cheering and whistling grew louder, and I could feel the eyes of the entire Germa army on us. As Ichiji carried me in his arms, I rested my head on his shoulder, my eyes scanning the crowd. If I have to endure this, I’ll be sure to get Ichiji to crack, I thought, my mind beginning to hatch a plan.

At that moment, I leaned up and kissed Ichiji’s neck, my lips pressing lightly against his skin. He stiffened for a second, but quickly relaxed into my touch, a pleased smirk crossing his face. The soldiers erupted into whistles and cheers, louder than before. I could feel the heat of their gaze, but it didn’t matter. I had a plan, and I was playing my part to perfection.

We finally reached the steps of the kingdom, and the grand doors opened before us. The servants and maids inside began to bustle, a few of them immediately noticing Ichiji and me. One maid caught my eye—her look lingering on Ichiji was unmistakable, almost hungry. Wouldn’t be surprised if they hooked up, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

One of the maids I recognized approached. "Anne!" I called out, making my way toward her. As soon as she saw me, she smiled widely and then, to my surprise, her eyes widened in recognition, and she quickly bowed.

"My lady, it’s so wonderful to see you," she said with a soft voice.

I reached down and gently raised her head. "You will not bow for me. I won’t allow it," I said firmly. Her eyes flickered in surprise but she didn’t resist.

As I turned to face the rest of the room, I looked at all the other maids, standing there awkwardly. "Whatever my fiancé’s rules are, that’s on him, but no one will bow. Understood?" I added, my voice unwavering. There was a moment of hesitation in the room, the air thick with uncertainty.

One of the maids, who seemed to be trying too hard to win Ichiji’s favor, spoke up. "As if we would listen to you when Master Ichiji is standing there," she said with an air of bravado. Her eyes kept darting to Ichiji, practically fawning over him.

I turned my gaze to her, arching an eyebrow. "You must be..." I began, but the maid quickly interjected.

"My name is—"

"Irrelevant," I cut her off, my tone sharp. "As I suspected, you must have slept with my fiancé, haven’t you? You carry yourself like you’ve earned that bravado of yours." I smirked, my words dripping with disdain as I saw the color drain from her face.

The maid’s face flushed bright red. "I would do no such thing!" she stammered, her words defensive but her body language betrayed her. The way her hands shook slightly, her stance faltering—it was all too clear.

"Why so nervous?" I asked, a mocking smile pulling at my lips. "If what you say is the truth, then you shouldn’t falter at all, should you?" I leaned in slightly, making sure my gaze was locked with hers.

She stuttered again, trying to regain her composure, but I saw it—her guilt, her discomfort. Gotcha. I knew I had her rattled now.

I turned to Anne, forcing a smile that was as sweet as poison. "Anne, would you be a dear and take me to my shared quarters? I’d like to take a bath before breakfast," I said, my tone deliberately polite. "Better yet," I added with a sudden mischievous grin, turning back to Ichiji, "Tiger, would you like to share a bath with me?"

For a split second, Ichiji’s eyes flickered with something dangerous. He stiffened, and the hand he had resting on my shoulder tightened slightly, almost possessively. "Watch yourself, Y/N," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and threatening, but his words were laced with a possessiveness I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a reminder of who he thought I belonged to. "I’m not going to let you embarrass me."

I raised an eyebrow, my smile not faltering. "I’m just asking if my fiancé would like to partake," I said sweetly, letting my words linger with a teasing edge. "But if he doesn’t want to join me, then don’t be surprised when the door is locked and I entertain myself."

The tension between us thickened, and I could feel his grip on my shoulder tightening even more as if he were holding me back from doing something he didn’t like. But I wasn’t about to let his jealousy control me.

With that, I turned toward Anne and took a step away from Ichiji, deliberately leaving a small but noticeable distance between us. "Please lead the way, my dear," I said, my voice dripping with sweet but venomous politeness.

As I walked past the other soldiers and maids, I threw a final glance over my shoulder at Ichiji. "Oh, and as for the rest of you," I said, my tone still cheerful, "great meeting you all. I’m sure my fiancé would like to spend time with you all as well." I couldn’t help but add a final touch of sarcasm, "Wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, now, would we?"

My platform heels clicked sharply on the stone floor, each step punctuating my words and solidifying my authority in this little game we were playing. I could almost feel Ichiji’s eyes on my back, burning with a mixture of frustration and possessiveness. It was a look I had seen too many times before—he didn’t like losing control, and he certainly didn’t like when I had the upper hand.

As Anne led me to my shared quarters, I could feel Ichiji’s eyes burning into my back, though I didn’t acknowledge him directly. His presence was a constant weight, a reminder of the power he thought he had over me. But I wasn’t going to break that easily.

"My lady, are you alright?" Anne asked with a concerned tone, making me laugh softly in response.

"Oh, I'm more than alright, Anne. I won't back down that easy," I said, my smile feigning confidence, though my mind was still racing.

Anne led me to the room I was assigned to when Ichiji first brought me here—his room. It wasn’t lost on me that it was also where he expected me to stay now that our “wedding” was drawing near. We walked inside, and as Anne shut the door behind us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in a gilded cage.

"Would you like me to run your bath, my lady?" Anne asked, a soft offer that I gratefully accepted.

"Yes, please," I replied, my voice softer now, though my mind was still sharp, calculating. Anne moved swiftly, preparing the bath in the large marble tub. It was the kind of bath you’d expect in a palace—luxurious, with gleaming marble walls and a tub large enough for someone to lose themselves in. There were large windows, tinted just enough to shield me from the outside world but still letting the sun’s light filter in, casting a soft glow over the room.

As Anne prepared the bath, I started to undo the layers of my attire. My corset came first, followed by my heels. The last pieces were my skirt, thigh halter, and hidden blades. As I slid the thigh halter off, my hidden blades remained firmly tucked in, ready for whatever came next.

"Your bath is ready, my lady," Anne said, turning toward me.

I smiled, a little relieved by the chance to unwind, even if just for a moment. "Thank you, Anne."

I then turned to her with a smile, catching her gaze. "Anne, what did I tell you when we first met?"

Anne blushed, her face turning a shade of pink. "Call me Y/N," she said softly, smiling in return.

"Exactly," I replied, a playful tone in my voice. "You can call me Y/N, no need for formalities."

"Yes, my... Y/N," she said, smiling warmly as she exited the room, leaving me alone to reflect in the stillness.

With the door now shut, I took a deep breath, letting the tension slip away, if only for a moment. The sun was high, casting light on the bathroom through the tinted windows. I made my way toward the tub, dipping one hand into the water, testing its warmth. It was perfect—comfortable, soothing. I moved slowly, a hand covering my chest as I lowered myself into the tub, feeling the heat of the water seep into my muscles. The tension of the day began to melt away as I relaxed, even if just slightly.

Once I was comfortable, I removed the last of my garments—the skirt, the thigh halter with the hidden blade—placing them carefully beside the tub.The warm water eased the tension in my muscles, and I began to relax, letting the day’s stress melt away. But just as I was about to truly unwind, the door slammed open with force.

And here he comes, I thought, my eyes flicking to the entrance.

Ichiji stormed in, his boots making a heavy sound against the floor as he quickly locked the door behind him. His eyes were dark, narrowed, and something unreadable flickered in them, his posture rigid and controlled. The air between us thickened immediately.

"Finally decided to join me, tiger?" I teased, shifting slightly in the tub to move closer to the bubbles that covered my body. I gave him a playful smile, my voice light and confident, as if this was nothing more than a casual exchange.

Ichiji didn’t respond right away. His eyes scanned me—no doubt taking in the sight of my exposed form, though I made sure the bubbles hid enough to keep him on edge. But even as I moved closer, the tension between us was palpable. His jaw clenched, his body taut with something dangerous.

"The water’s nice and warm…" I said, my voice deliberately slow and teasing, watching his every move as he stood there, unmoving. I could feel his gaze lingering on me, burning through the air between us.

His lips parted for a brief moment, a flicker of frustration crossing his features, but it was quickly replaced by a hardened resolve. He stepped closer, the energy shifting with every step, as if he were trying to tame the storm inside himself. The possessiveness was there—raw, intense—but so was something darker, something like control slipping away.

"Do you think you can get away with this?" Ichiji growled, his voice low and laced with both warning and desire. His eyes narrowed, still glaring at me like a predator stalking its prey. "You think you can tease me, make me wait while you’re in here, like some prize I can’t have?"

I smirked, leaning back into the warmth of the water. "I’m just enjoying myself, Ichiji," I said, making sure my tone sounded innocent, even though my body was clearly pushing all his buttons. "Isn’t that what you wanted me to do? Be good for you?" I moved my hand under the water, letting the bubbles swirl around it in a slow motion.

"Stop playing games with me, Y/N," he snapped, stepping forward so that his body was just inches from the edge of the tub. His fingers flexed at his sides, the air thick with his possessiveness. "You know I could take you right here. But you want to play this little game, don’t you? Keep me hanging on, testing my patience."

I moaned softly, closing my eyes as I let his words settle in my mind. "I just had a vision of how that would look, tiger," I whispered, as I let the image linger in the air. A low hum escaped Ichiji’s lips as I moved toward the middle of the tub, my fingers trailing through the water and stirring up small waves that rippled outward. I leaned back, resting my head on the edge of the tub, allowing my eyes to close as I painted the image with my words, letting the scene unfold in both our minds.

“Picture this,” I murmured, voice thick with a tempting softness, “you in here with me… the water splashing, the sound filling the room… echoes of breaths, teasing touches that linger just long enough to make you wonder what’s coming next…”

The tension in the room grew heavier, almost tangible. I could hear the slight hitch in his breathing, the way his gaze darkened as he watched me, captivated by the picture I was painting. His usual icy control was starting to melt away under the heat of my words.

“Just imagine,” I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur, “your hands on me, tracing over every curve… the water amplifying every movement, every touch…”

Ichiji's eyes glinted with a dangerous fire as he took a step closer to the tub, drawn in by the vivid scene I was crafting. His lips twisted into a smirk, but I could tell he was affected, his calm composure slipping just a little. "Ichiji, I’m bored. Come play with me."

My voice was laced with an innocent tease, but I knew it was pushing him farther. I could feel his eyes burning into me, his restraint slipping by the second.

"In fact..." I said, the challenge clear in my voice, as I slowly stood up from the water, letting it cascade off my body in a slow, sensual flow. "I’ll start."

I began to unbutton his shirt, my fingers grazing his chest with a teasing slowness, keeping my gaze locked on his, savoring every moment. But before I could reach the final button, Ichiji’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a firm, almost bruising grip, stopping me in my tracks.

His eyes were dark with a dangerous intensity, his breath ragged as he looked down at me. His body was so close now I could feel the heat radiating off him. "You don’t get to make the rules here, Y/N," he growled low, his voice heavy with possessiveness and frustration. His grip on my wrist tightened slightly, sending a wave of heat through me.

"Not this time." His voice was almost a warning now. His eyes searched mine, weighing his next move carefully. "You want to keep playing? Then play by my rules."

The intensity in Ichiji's eyes made my breath catch in my throat. His hand held my wrist with such authority, as if he were marking me, staking his claim. His lips were just inches from my ear as he leaned in closer, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down my spine.

"You're testing me, Y/N," he murmured, his grip tightening ever so slightly, just enough to make sure I felt every inch of his control. "And I don’t like being tested."

I raised my eyes to meet his, a smirk playing at the corner of my lips. "I didn’t think you’d be so easily distracted, Ichiji," I teased, pushing against his grip just enough to remind him that, for a moment, I still held some power here.

But Ichiji wasn’t about to let me get away with it. With a swift movement, he pulled me forward, his other hand gripping my chin to force me to look up at him. His expression was dark, unreadable, yet there was an undeniable hunger in his eyes. "You don’t get to play this game, Y/N. Not when you’re the one who’s always pushing my buttons."

He let go of my wrist, but only to bring his hand to my cheek, gently caressing the skin with his thumb before his fingers trailed down to my neck, applying the faintest pressure as if to remind me of the power he wielded over me. My heart raced, and I could feel my body betraying me, reacting to his every move despite my attempts to maintain control. His grip on my neck tightened just enough to send a surge of heat rushing through me, making my breath catch. "You’ll find out soon enough." His lips hovered above mine, teasing me with the proximity, yet pulling away just as quickly, leaving me hanging. 

I leaned in slightly, my lips brushing his, but he was quicker, capturing my mouth in a heated kiss. It was raw, desperate, with a need that mirrored my own, but even in the intensity of the kiss, I could feel the underlying control he had over me, his every move reminding me who was really in charge.

The water rippled as I sank back deeper into the marble tub, the remnants of our kiss still lingering on my lips, leaving me breathless. The air between us crackled with an electric tension, and Ichiji’s smirk only fueled the heat building inside me.

His gaze was dark and calculated as he crouched beside the tub, his eyes never leaving mine. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeve, his arm muscles flexing with the movement as he tested the temperature of the water, but it was clear he wasn’t focused on the bath at all. The subtle shift of his body, the way his gaze flickered to my exposed skin, told me everything I needed to know.

“I won’t join you for a bath,” he said, his voice low and controlled, laced with something dangerously possessive. “There will be a time for that after. But I will, however, wait for you in my bed, while you finish getting changed, so we may eat breakfast.”

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of both frustration and excitement. His words were deliberate, a clear reminder that while I was playing my game, he had already set the rules for the next round.

Before I could respond, Ichiji’s fingers brushed lightly against my thigh beneath the water. The touch was teasing, a mere graze of his hand, but it sent a shock of heat straight to my core. I couldn’t move—couldn’t tear my eyes away from his—each second stretching on as if the world had stopped, leaving just the two of us, locked in this power struggle.

“You like that, don’t you?” Ichiji murmured, his voice taking on a more dangerous edge. His hand lingered, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of my thigh, making it impossible to ignore the effect he was having on me.

I swallowed hard, my body betraying me even as I tried to maintain my composure. “You’re bold,” I said, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, even as my breath hitched at his touch.

He leaned closer, his face now mere inches from mine, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You haven’t seen bold yet.”

I inhaled sharply, his words sending a shiver down my spine. I knew exactly what he meant, and the thought of it made my pulse race.

“Enjoy your bath,” Ichiji continued, pulling away slowly, his hand reluctantly leaving my thigh. “I’ll be waiting.”

As he turned to leave, I could feel the weight of his presence still pressing down on me, a lingering reminder that no matter how much I tried to push his buttons, Ichiji was always one step ahead, controlling every move I made.

I watched him walk toward the door, my body still aching for more, the room feeling colder without him so close. The tension, thick and palpable, was only just beginning, and I knew there was no going back from this game we were playing.

With a final glance over his shoulder, Ichiji smirked, “Don’t take too long, Y/N.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the bath, the quiet sound of the water lapping against the sides of the tub the only noise. I leaned back, sinking deeper into the water, the heat from earlier still lingering in my body. My mind was racing—what had just happened? I had tested him, but I knew I was in dangerous territory now.

I couldn’t help but scream into the water, frustration and heat building inside me. "Bastard really knows his stuff," I muttered, a mix of irritation and admiration in my voice. He had me tangled up in his games, and I was beginning to wonder if I was going to lose this round.

Stepping out of the tub, I wrapped myself in a towel, feeling the sharp chill of the air on my skin—a striking contrast to the warmth that lingered from the bath. The room felt different now, quieter somehow, as if absorbing the echoes of what had just happened. I let the water drain, the sound filling the silence and grounding me.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror, and my attention fell on the faint marks from recent battles. The injuries from my sparring session with Judge had nearly vanished, and I couldn't help but marvel. My left thigh, which had taken a harsh hit, was smooth again, and the bruise along my side had faded completely. The scrape on my right hand, my last reminder of a skirmish with one of Big Mom’s children to retrieve my weapon, had also disappeared.

"Reiju’s work, no doubt," I mused to myself, impressed by her medical skills. Whatever she’d used had sped up my recovery dramatically. It was strange to see myself so healed, but I could already feel my strength returning—a welcome relief.  I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself before I stepped out of the bathroom.

I opened the door, stepping into the room, only to see Ichiji lying casually on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head, a smirk already plastered across his face.

"How was the bath?" he teased, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker.

I flicked him off, not bothering to hide the playfulness in my actions. "You’re unbelievable," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, though the tension between us was far from gone.

Ichiji just laughed, a sound that felt like a challenge. "You’re one to talk," he replied, his smirk widening as he sat up on the bed, clearly enjoying this little back-and-forth. "But we both know you’re not really mad at me."

I didn’t respond right away, simply letting the silence hang in the air as I slowly made my way over to the dresser to find something to wear. The game was far from over, and now, more than ever, I couldn’t wait for what would come next. I moved towards the closet, my fingers lightly grazing over the fabric of the outfits hanging neatly inside.

Ichiji’s eyes never left me as I sorted through the clothes, his smirk still evident on his face. I could feel his gaze, heavy and possessive, following every movement I made. It was both infuriating and thrilling, knowing that he was waiting for me to make my next move, knowing that I had a certain power over him now, but still unsure of what he might do next.

As I flicked through the outfits, I could feel a heat rise within me again. Every choice I picked up felt like part of a new round in our game. I was testing boundaries, pushing buttons, seeing how far I could go before one of us cracked. And right now, it seemed like we were both dancing along that thin line.

Finally, I picked out an outfit—a tight, short, dark red dress that hugged my figure in all the right places. I didn’t give him any indication of how I was feeling. Instead, I just turned towards him, my eyes meeting his as I slipped the dress from the hanger.

“You’ve been watching me long enough, Ichiji,” I said, my tone just as teasing as his had been. “Don’t you have anything to say? Or are you just going to stare?”

Ichiji’s lips curled into a grin, the air around us charged with anticipation. "You know," he said, his voice low, "I don’t think I’ve had enough of this little game yet."

I smirked in response, knowing he was just as drawn to this as I was. The tension between us was palpable, and neither of us was willing to back down. I grabbed my heels and secured my thigh halter and hidden blade onto my right thigh, then swept my hair into a messy bun, leaving a few pieces out to frame my face.

Just then, the door flew open, and in strutted the maid from before, acting as if she owned the place. “Ichi!” she whined, her voice dripping with familiarity. I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Ichiji, who still lounged on the bed with his arms behind his head. "Yeah, they definitely slept together," I thought, moving toward the large mirror Ichiji had positioned across from his bed.

"When are you coming?” she whined, her gaze fixed on him, seemingly oblivious to my presence. Ichiji only smirked, not moving an inch.

I turned to face her, crossing my arms. “You are quite audacious to barge into shared quarters that belong to my fiancé and me,” I said, my tone icy. I took a step closer, making sure she understood the message. “Now answer me this: why did you just barge right in?”

She gave a smug smirk, unphased. “Ichiji asked me to come...” She leaned in, eyes narrowing. “If you ask me, my lady, it seems you’re not satisfying him enough.” Her gaze flicked over me dismissively, clearly trying to provoke a reaction.

I glanced back at Ichiji, who was watching this unfold with a faint smirk. I narrowed my eyes, but decided to keep my composure. “I will deal with my fiancé later,” I replied, not sparing him another glance. I let a knowing smile slip as I turned back to her. “And as for satisfying him…” I said, running my gaze over Ichiji. “He’s all yours.”

Ichiji’s expression faltered slightly as he took his hands down from behind his head, his smirk disappearing. “You’re really going to just leave like that?” he challenged, his tone almost demanding.

“Enjoy your company,” I replied coolly, brushing past the maid as I made my way to the door. I swayed my hips, knowing Ichiji’s eyes would be fixed on me, my red dress moving with calculated seduction.

The moment I stepped out, I saw Anne walking by. “Anne,” I smiled, “I’m ready for some breakfast.”

“Yes, Y/N. Our head chef prepares an excellent meal,” she replied, returning my smile.

“Wonderful. I would love to have a bite.” I said, linking arms with her as we started down the hallway.

Just then, I heard Ichiji’s frustrated voice from within the room. “Y/N!” His tone was sharp, as if not expecting me to brush him off so easily.

I couldn’t help but smile, keeping my head held high as I ignored his call. The game wasn’t over, and I’d made my next move.

Anne led me to a grand dining hall with ornate décor, high ceilings, and an air of strict order. “Here we are, Y/N. Your meal will be brought out by our head chef.”

“Thank you, Anne. So this is where Germa dines?” I asked, taking in the layout. There was a large throne in one corner and several numbered seats around the table.

“Yes, ma’am,” Anne replied. “The numbers represent each of Master Judge’s children.”

I scanned the seats, each one meticulously positioned, the order so precise it felt stifling. “Well, I’ll be sure to sit far away from one,” I said with a sly smile, which earned a small chuckle from Anne. She gave a polite nod. "Your meal will be right out," she said, before turning and heading to the kitchen.

As I made my way to the table, the air in the room felt almost chilling, a rigid, imposing atmosphere that screamed of Judge’s ironclad rule. Every corner of the room was adorned with Germa 66 emblems, as if the family’s legacy was something one could never escape from. Even the polished marble floor, reflective and cold, seemed to reinforce that this place wasn’t designed for comfort or warmth. It was built for power, for status—like Judge himself.

I let my fingers drift over the table's surface as I walked, tracing patterns in the smooth, dark wood before taking my seat in the number 3 chair. Sitting there, I felt the weight of the room’s history bearing down on me. It was the same chair Ichiji would sit in, which seemed to carry an air of restrained violence, just like him. Even in his absence, I could feel his presence here—the domineering energy he wielded, the cool command that seemed ingrained in everything Germa.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a sharp creak, and in he strode, his expression dark and thunderous. Ichiji’s eyes landed on me immediately, a glint of barely-restrained anger simmering beneath his gaze. He crossed the room with quick, purposeful steps, each one landing heavily on the marble floor.

“You really thought it was a good idea to just walk out?” he demanded, his voice low but tense, as if each word was laced with the bite he was holding back. He barely glanced at the maid who’d followed him, looking flustered and red-faced as she tried to keep up with his stride.

I leaned back in my seat, meeting his glare with a slight smirk. “Didn’t realize I needed permission, tiger,” I replied coolly, emphasizing the nickname just to see the reaction flicker in his eyes. "Besides, it seemed you were otherwise... preoccupied."

His jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides as if he was barely resisting the urge to do something about my tone. “You left me in there with her on purpose, didn’t you?” he growled, his gaze narrowing as he took another step toward me, ignoring the maid entirely now.

I shrugged, letting the silence hang between us for a moment before answering, “Can’t help it if I got bored.” I flicked a glance over at the maid, who was practically vibrating with suppressed anger as she stood a few paces behind him, her expression a blend of shock and frustration.

Suddenly, Anne walked in, followed by the head chef. “Y/N, this is Cossette,” Anne introduced as Cossette bowed low. “It’s an honor to meet you, Princess,” she said, her voice respectful.

I gently grabbed her head and raised her gaze, smiling softly. “Please don’t bow. Like I told the handmaids when I arrived, my fiancé’s rules are his, but mine are mine,” I said, my tone warm but firm. “I don’t want anyone bowing to me. Skip the formalities.”

Cossette’s eyes softened, and I could see a glimmer of appreciation in her expression. “Of course, Princess,” she said, her voice slightly warmer now.

“So, I heard your breakfasts are the best,” I continued, a playful grin tugging at my lips. “I can’t wait to try it.”

Before Cossette could respond, Ichiji’s voice cut through the air from behind me. “Cossette, don’t forget my plate either,” he said, his voice smooth but commanding.

Cossette nodded feverishly. “Of course, Master Ichiji. Princess, your meals will be here soon,” she said, bowing again, but I raised a hand.

“What did I say about bowing?” I reminded her, my tone light but carrying a touch of authority. “Please, take your time. Once breakfast is done, I’ll be heading back to prepare for my wedding tomorrow. So, a little extra strength will be needed,” I teased, winking at her. Cossette smiled in response, clearly warming to my manner.

“Keep that smile,” I added, watching as Cossette’s face lit up even more. She and Anne left the room quietly, closing the door behind them.

Turning back to Ichiji, I caught sight of his expression—arms crossed, a subtle scowl creasing his brows, his gaze fixed on me with a mixture of curiosity and something darker. Ignoring his silent scrutiny for the moment, I shifted my attention to the other maid, the one from earlier.

“You are excused,” I said coolly, expecting her to finally leave.

“As if I would listen to you…” she muttered defiantly, casting me a challenging glare.

Before I could respond, Ichiji’s voice cut through the tension. “You do as you’re told. Leave, now,” he commanded, his tone cold and final. The maid faltered under his gaze, then quickly turned and scurried out, the door shutting behind her. With a quiet laugh, I returned to the table, slipping gracefully into the number 3 chair. The weight of the room’s rigid formality seemed to settle back around us, but I allowed myself a moment of ease, running a finger idly along the polished wood of the table. 

Ichiji’s eyes followed my every movement as I returned to my seat, his expression simmering with a possessive intensity. He strode over to the chair labeled "1," sitting down across from me. Though the distance between us was only a few feet, it might as well have been miles for the way he regarded me, his frustration barely masked by his usually stoic facade.

His jaw was tight, and his gaze bore into me, a storm of anger and longing swirling behind his eyes. It was clear he hated the gap between us, the formality of the space, as if every inch of distance chipped away at the control he fought to maintain. "Tiger, you mentioned you could take me right here, when we were in the bathroom, have you ever thought about taking me here on this table." I smirked, "Why dont I make it easier for you." I said as I stood up, A flicker of raw intensity passed over Ichiji’s face as I approached, his gaze darkening with each step I took. The smirk I wore only seemed to fuel the frustration in his eyes, that possessive glint growing sharper. I let my fingers trail along the polished wood as I moved, savoring each small reaction from him until I stood behind his chair. Gently, I placed my hands on his shoulders, massaging the tension out of his muscles. He stiffened at first but gradually softened under my touch, his head tilting slightly as he closed his eyes, caught in the sensations I was creating.

“You’re so tense,” I murmured, my tone playful and laced with challenge. My fingers kneaded into his shoulders, coaxing the last of his restraint to the surface.

Without warning, Ichiji’s hand shot up, grasping my wrist tightly as he pulled me around to face him, his gaze burning with an unfiltered, dangerous edge. His voice was low, almost a growl, as he spoke, his composure hanging by a thread.

“You think I’m tense?” he challenged, his grip firm as he pulled me closer, his eyes blazing into mine. “You don’t understand, do you? The only thing keeping me from taking what I want right here and now is your damn teasing.” His hand slid down, capturing my waist and drawing me onto his lap, his control slipping just enough for his true desire to flash in his eyes.

With a sly smile, I leaned back, letting my lower back press into the edge of the table as Ichiji's breathing grew heavier, his eyes dark with barely restrained desire. "I just think you seem a bit on edge," I teased, settling onto the table’s edge and letting my legs part slightly, just enough to draw his attention. I placed my hands between them, my fingers tracing slow, languid circles on the wood.

I saw his gaze flicker between my movements and my face, his composure visibly fraying. With a light tug, I grabbed his loosened tie, pulling him down until his face was inches from mine. His breath came in warm waves against my skin as I spoke, each word laced with intent. "I want to hear all the fantasies that are running through my soon-to-be husband’s mind," I murmured, my tone playful yet daring. I released his tie, letting him stand there as I slipped off the table, walking back to my chair with a deliberate sway in my step, fully aware of his eyes following me.

But he didn’t let the space stay between us for long. In a flash, he closed the distance, his hands finding the back of my chair as he leaned over me, his voice low and dangerous. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking?” he rasped, his gaze searing. "I've been imagining what it would feel like to break down every last bit of that defiance… right here. To see you without those teasing little games, giving in to me completely."

His fingers brushed against my jaw, tilting my face up to meet his as he continued, his voice heavy with raw confession. “I’ve thought about you in my arms, pinned under my weight, your voice breaking as you finally stop pushing and just let go. I want to see you let me take control, to feel you against me, watching you come undone.” His breath was hot, his restraint hanging by a thread.

"And as for this table," he continued, his voice even lower now, his hand trailing down to graze my thigh. “I've thought about clearing everything off of it, pulling you onto it, and making you mine right here, without the faintest care about who could walk in. Just you and me, exactly as we should be.” His hand pressed into my thigh, his gaze intense. 

Just as I was about to speak, a knock on the door interrupted the moment. “It’s me, Cossette. I have your meals,” she called softly from the other side.

I cleared my throat, straightening up and pulling my composure back into place. “Come in!” I called out, my voice slightly firmer than before.

Cossette stepped inside, accompanied by a few sous-chefs, each carrying an array of beautifully plated dishes. The scent that hit my senses was enough to make my stomach growl with anticipation.

“I didn’t know what you would like, so I made a bit of everything,” Cossette explained, her voice soft as she glanced nervously down at the floor.

I smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the spread. “Cossette, you shouldn’t have,” I said, my tone appreciative, but playful.

The table was soon laden with a lavish assortment of dishes, each more decadent than the last. There were delicate croissants, freshly baked and golden brown, their buttery scent filling the room. Plump, juicy berries—strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries—arranged artfully alongside a bowl of whipped cream for dipping. There were perfectly scrambled eggs, a side of crispy bacon, and tender sausage links, all laid out to perfection. The pièce de résistance was a beautifully cooked salmon fillet, flaky and tender, with a side of creamy hollandaise sauce. A selection of assorted cheeses, olives, and a fresh baguette completed the spread, and on the far side of the table was a large, sparkling bottle of champagne and crystal flutes, ready to be poured.

“Everything looks wonderful, Cossette,” I said, glancing over the spread and nodding in approval. My eyes lingered on the champagne. “And the champagne, a perfect touch.”

Cossette smiled shyly, still avoiding my gaze. “I’m glad you like it, Princess. I hope it’s to your liking.”

Ichiji, who had been watching silently, finally spoke up, his voice laced with a hint of approval, but his eyes never left me. “Looks like you’ve done well, Cossette. I’ll take some of that salmon.”

Cossette nodded quickly, her hands trembling slightly as she began to arrange the food in front of us. “Of course, Master Ichiji. I’ll make sure everything is to your satisfaction.”

As the sous-chefs stepped back, leaving us to our meal, I felt a brief moment of satisfaction settle over me. The atmosphere in the room was still thick with tension, but the food—luxurious and perfectly prepared—offered a temporary distraction.

Once Cossette had prepared my plate, I grabbed the champagne flute and the bottle, popping it open with a satisfying pop, the fizzy liquid spraying onto my chest. I let out a laugh, my eyes twinkling. "Oh no, Princess... I'm so sorry," Cossette stammered, her face flushed.

I waved her off, still laughing, "It's alright." As I grabbed a napkin to dab at the champagne on my chest, I let out another chuckle. Cossette, looking relieved, poured champagne into my flute. I then grabbed the orange juice, adding a splash to the bubbly drink, watching the two liquids swirl together.

“Well, that's what I call a fine good mimosas," I joked with a playful smirk, lifting the glass to admire my creation. Cossette smiled, a little more relaxed now.

I took a sip, the fizzy sweetness dancing on my tongue, and immediately took a bite of the breakfast in front of me. I closed my eyes in delight, unable to contain the satisfaction. "Cossette, this is exquisite!" I exclaimed, taking another bite. "You’ve outdone yourself."

Cossette seemed to blush at my praise, her eyes wide in disbelief. "Do you mean it?" she hesitated, as if unsure whether my words were genuine.

"Of course!" I nodded emphatically. "It’s truly incredible."

Ichiji, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his tone flat but carrying an unmistakable edge. "Don't get too soft, Princess," he said, his voice cutting through the pleasant moment. "This is no time for compliments and praise."

I could feel the tension rise once again, but I didn't let it deter me. "In fact..." I said, a mischievous grin creeping across my face as I stood up from the table, plate in hand. "I’ll make sure you enjoy it too."

Ichiji looked up sharply, eyes narrowing as I made my way around the table, carefully selecting a perfectly cooked piece of the salmon. I leaned over and fed it to him, my eyes locked onto his with a challenge in my gaze. "Here, try some," I said softly, the words almost playful but edged with something deeper.

Ichiji paused, staring at the piece of food in my hand for a moment before taking it into his mouth. His eyes never left mine as he chewed thoughtfully. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low, almost reluctant. "It’s good. Better than I expected."

I couldn't help but smile, savoring the rare moment of him lowering his guard, even if just a little. "See? There’s more where that came from," I teased, sitting back down in my seat, ready to continue the meal. The tension remained, but for now, it was a little easier to ignore. After a few minutes, I finished my breakfast, savoring the last bite, while Ichiji, after allowing me to feed him a few bites, also finished his meal. The mimosa's light fizz was starting to kick in, a gentle warmth spreading through me.

Ichiji’s gaze flickered over me briefly, but the words that followed were as firm as ever. "We’re done here," he said as he stood up, extending his hand for me to take. His hand was firm, his fingers brushing mine with a possessive intent.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him with playful defiance. "Where are we going?" I asked, my voice smooth, curiosity mixed with a hint of teasing.

"Back to our shared suite, for you to change," he replied with that authoritative tone that only seemed to make my heart race faster. Before I could respond, his grip tightened, pulling me up from my seat.

"But I wasn’t finished with my mimosas!" I protested with a pout, making grabby hands at the half-full glass, unwilling to leave it behind.

Ichiji didn't even flinch at my theatrics. With a smirk, he stepped closer, bending down with surprising speed and lifting me over his shoulder in one swift motion. My breath caught as I found myself dangling in his arms, my legs swaying in the air.

"Not today," he murmured, his voice low and almost dangerously calm. "You’ve had enough for now."

I huffed, trying to wriggle free, but his hold was firm. "Ichiji, put me down! You can’t just take my drink!"

But the amusement in his tone only deepened as he walked toward the door, ignoring my protest. "You can drink all you want later. Right now, we have more important things to attend to."

His steps were confident, echoing in the silent room as I continued to hang over his shoulder, barely able to do anything but let him carry me as he pleased. My heart was still racing, but it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. It was something else entirely. Something much more complicated.

"You're impossible," I muttered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

Ichiji’s laugh was low and mocking as he turned to head down the hallway, unbothered by the struggles I put up. "You’ll get used to it." I grumbled under my breath, unable to help the smile that tugged at my lips despite my protest. "You're really something, you know that?"

Finally, after what felt like a small eternity of me hanging there like a ragdoll in his arms, we made it to the shared suite. Without hesitation, Ichiji kicked the door open with a swift motion, his expression unreadable as he effortlessly navigated through the doorway.

"What did the door ever do to you?" I remarked dryly, raising an eyebrow at his sudden display of force. My voice was teasing, but there was a touch of genuine amusement there.

Ichiji didn’t even spare me a glance as he slammed the door shut behind him, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent room. Without missing a beat, he locked it, his gaze darkening as his attention shifted back to me. He didn’t give me a chance to react before he dropped me onto the bed, the soft sheets swallowing me up in an unexpected tumble.

I let out a small giggle, the playful feeling of being tossed around catching me off guard. "That was fun," I said, breathless but clearly enjoying the chaos he’d stirred up. My heart was still pounding, but now it was because of the raw energy that hung between us, the tension that neither of us seemed willing to address.

Ichiji stood over me for a moment, his eyes scanning me with a certain intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn’t speak, but the unspoken words were clear in the way he looked at me—dangerous, possessive, and yet… something else.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my grin widening despite the heat that was building up in the room. "What now, Ichiji?" I asked, my voice daring, though a hint of uncertainty lingered beneath the surface. "Are you going to keep me here all day?"

The air between us thickened, and I could see him fighting with his own restraint, though whether it was for me or for himself, I couldn’t say.

Ichiji's eyes softened for a moment, but the intensity quickly returned. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the quiet room. "You’re not going anywhere until you’ve learned your first lesson," he said, his voice low but commanding. His words sent a shiver down my spine, anticipation curling in my stomach.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to act unfazed despite the heat simmering beneath my skin. "Lesson? What kind of lesson?" I asked, half teasing, half intrigued.

Ichiji’s lips curled into a smirk as he stood directly over me, his hand reaching down to brush a strand of hair from my face. The warmth of his fingers lingering against my skin sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I instinctively leaned into the touch. "A lesson on control, princess," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked down at me. His gaze was unwavering, his lips parting as if he were savoring the moment.

Without another word, Ichiji grabbed my hand, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled me to my feet. The room seemed to shrink around us, the air thick with tension. "Dinner," he said, his tone brokering no argument. "Back at the Château."

I couldn’t help but smirk, my playful side coming to the forefront despite the charged atmosphere. "Wow, two meals in one day? You sure know how to show a girl a good time," I said, letting out a light laugh. The sound of it filled the room, a welcome break from the intensity that had been building between us.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened for a split second, the flicker of something dangerous flashing before he masked it again with that signature smirk of his. "You’ll get used to it," he said, his grip on my hand tightening just a little as he guided me towards the door.

As we walked down the stairs, Ichiji and I were met with the familiar bustling of the château. Anne and Cosette waved us off, their faces bright with friendly smiles, but my attention was soon pulled back to Ichiji as he guided me through the hall, the sounds of our footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

"By ladies, take care!" I called out with a smile, waving goodbye as we exited the suite. Ichiji, ever composed, didn’t waste a second in turning his attention back to me, guiding me toward the grand door. The sunlight greeted us like an old friend, casting its warm rays over the castle grounds. The day was still bright, and I couldn’t help but think it must have been somewhere near the afternoon.

We stepped outside, the warmth of the sun on our faces, but before I could fully take in the fresh air, a loud cheer broke through the air. "Look, it’s Master Ichiji and his fiancée, seems well!" a soldier yelled, his voice carrying through the air. Suddenly, whistles and cheers erupted from the nearby soldiers, their admiration and energy clear as they looked upon us. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, but Ichiji’s expression remained calm, his smirk still ever-present as he turned to face the soldiers.

Without a second thought, he cupped my chin and pulled me in for a soft, deliberate kiss on my forehead. The soldiers around us gasped, and the sound of "Awww!" rang through the crowd. It was like they’d seen a moment of something precious, something only a select few could witness.

"She is so good to him," a soldier said, wiping away a tear. His voice had a deep, almost reverent tone to it. It was a little overwhelming, but at the same time, it felt... strange to be in the center of all of this attention. It was like a strange dance that Ichiji and I had been pulled into.

"Long live Master Ichiji and his bride!" another soldier shouted in the distance, raising his hand in a salute.

The chorus of voices continued, growing louder with each passing second.

"Master Ichiji, how much do you love your bride?" another soldier called out, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. At that, a shower of rose petals suddenly began to fall from above, as if summoned by the sheer energy in the air. The petals fluttered around us, floating like a soft, colorful storm as the soldiers cheered even louder.

Ichiji’s arm tightened around me for a moment, drawing me closer to his side. His smirk was still in place, but I could see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—pride, perhaps, or maybe something darker. His voice was steady, but there was an underlying intensity that made my heart race. "As much as anyone could, and more," he answered coolly, his words causing a stir among the soldiers, who cheered even more fervently at his declaration.

As the calicoat rolled smoothly along the pathway, the rhythmic motion seemed to make everything around me blur just a little. I turned my gaze toward the scenery, trying to force my mind to focus, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the heated moments between Ichiji and me.

Ichiji, who had been unusually quiet, leaned back against the seat, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on me. "You're distracted," he said, his voice smooth, yet there was a hint of amusement in it. "What’s on your mind?" He tilted his head slightly, his piercing eyes studying me with an intensity that almost made it harder to think straight.

I hesitated for a moment before letting out a breath, trying to regain some composure. "I... just need to focus," I muttered, though my words didn't quite align with the tension I could feel in the air.

Ichiji chuckled softly, a quiet, almost predatory sound. "You’ve been distracted all day, Y/N. Is it that hard to focus, or is there something more?" His voice dropped to a near whisper, the weight of his question hanging heavily between us.

I bit my lip, trying to regain my thoughts. But somehow, the pressure of his gaze only seemed to pull me further into distraction. "It’s nothing," I said quickly, but my heart was racing, the air between us charged with a palpable energy. Ichiji’s smirk deepened as he moved closer, his gaze never leaving mine. There was something in his eyes—an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "It’s never nothing with you, Y/N," he said, his voice lower now, almost a whisper against the soft hum of the calicoat. He leaned in, and before I could respond, his lips brushed against my neck, the sensation sending an electric jolt through me. My breath caught in my throat as I involuntarily closed my eyes.

"I’ve been trying to focus too," he confessed softly, his lips still grazing my skin. "But it's hard to concentrate when every part of me wants you. I can’t deny it anymore." His voice was thick with longing, his hand reaching up to rest gently on my side, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of my waist.

I couldn’t find the words to reply as the warmth of his kiss spread through me, leaving me both stunned and breathless. 

Ichiji’s lips brushed against my collarbone, his kiss lingering there for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against my skin. The soft strands of his hair brushed against my neck, tickling me and making me giggle involuntarily. The sound seemed to amuse him, and a small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You're laughing now, but just wait," he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his hand gently cupped my cheek. "I’m not done yet." Ichiji's hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer as the calicoat continued its steady movement. For a moment, everything else faded—just the warmth of his body against mine and the heat of his lips consumed me. I took the lead, my fingers trailing over his jaw, deepening the kiss as I felt him stiffen for a second before he regained his composure. His grip tightened on me, pulling me further into his lap.

He broke away with a harsh exhale, his forehead resting against mine as he tried to steady his breath. “Fuck, princess,” he muttered under his breath, his hands running through my hair as if he was trying to ground himself.

I couldn’t resist, my lips finding his cheek, brushing softly against his skin as I kissed his jaw, his neck, and back to his lips. Each kiss was an unspoken confession, each touch a promise that we were both too caught up to deny.

His breath hitched as I kissed his face, his hands gripping me tighter as if trying to contain the growing storm between us. The tension was unbearable, but neither of us pulled away. Instead, we clung to each other, the intensity of the moment echoing between the soft thrum of the calicoat’s ride and the rhythm of our hearts racing in unison.

Just then, the calicoat halted abruptly, throwing both of us off balance. I gasped as we fell forward, landing with a soft thud on the cushioned seat. Ichiji caught me instinctively, his arms wrapping around me as I tumbled on top of him, both of us momentarily stunned by the sudden stop.

For a second, there was a brief silence, before the heat of the moment returned. I found myself pressed against him, our faces only inches apart. His chest heaved beneath me, the rush of our earlier closeness still lingering in the air. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, the situation adding an unexpected thrill to everything that had just happened.

Ichiji’s lips curled into a smirk, though there was a certain sharpness to his eyes. "Clumsy, aren't we?" he teased, his voice low and filled with that familiar possessiveness.

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling the playful tension between us once again. “Maybe just a little,” I replied, feeling my heart still racing as his hands gently slid down to my waist, the touch sending a wave of heat through me.

He leaned up slightly, brushing his lips over mine, a soft, lingering kiss that made everything feel even more electric. "This isn’t over," he murmured, his breath warm against my lips. "We’re just getting started."

Before I could respond, the voice of a soldier broke through the moment. "Master Ichiji, we have arrived."

Ichiji’s grip tightened around my hips for a split second, and then with a small, frustrated sigh, he pulled away, but not without giving me one last heated glance. He stood up, straightening himself, before opening the door and extending his hand to me. "Come on," he said, his voice low, still tinged with the intensity of the moment. "Let me drop you off at your room."

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me out of the calicoat. As we made our way toward the entrance, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness, the air still thick with everything that had just passed between us. We walked side by side, the ground beneath our feet seeming to echo our unspoken tension.

Once we reached my room, Ichiji paused at the door, turning to me with a smirk. “I’ll see you at six o'clock, princess,” he said smoothly, starting to turn away.

But before he could leave, something surged within me—a need, an undeniable hunger. I reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back toward me, the suddenness of it catching him off guard.

“Why don’t we get ready in my room?” I enticed, my voice softer now, the desire clear in my words. I could see the spark in his eyes, the way his gaze flickered with hunger as I leaned in, pressing a teasing kiss to his lips.

Ichiji’s breath hitched, his composure cracking just slightly under the weight of the moment. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, but his voice had a rough edge to it, betraying his own restraint, making it clear how much he wanted to give in.

I nodded, biting my lip as I met his gaze, feeling my heart race. “Bring your clothes, and let’s get ready here,” I whispered, my hand lingering on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palm. The tension between us was palpable, the space around us charged with unspoken promises and a thrill that made my pulse quicken.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened further, and for a moment, it felt as if the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us suspended in that electrifying moment. But then, with a deep breath that seemed to ground him, he stepped back, breaking the spell. “Alright,” he said, the fire in his gaze unwavering as he turned to head out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I could hear the sound of his footsteps echoing in the hall, a reminder of the tension that still lingered in the air. I took a moment to collect myself, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation build within me. This wasn’t just playful banter anymore; it felt like we were on the brink of something far more intense.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of everything. “What the hell are you thinking, Y/N?” I muttered to myself, feeling a mix of exhilaration and confusion swirling within me. Was I really flirting with danger? Did I want to push Ichiji, to challenge him? The thrill of the unknown tugged at me, but there was also a flicker of uncertainty.

I paced the room, my heart racing as I replayed our interaction in my mind. Ichiji's possessive nature was both intoxicating and intimidating. Did I really want to walk that line, to dive deeper into this chaotic dance we were doing? I couldn’t help but wonder how far I could take this, and if he would rise to the challenge or pull back, frustrated by my defiance.

I made my way to the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my body, the warmth sinking into my skin and washing away the tension from the day. As I stood under the stream, my mind wandered back to Luffy, Nami, and the rest of my crew. "Don’t worry, you guys... I’ll find a way to help," I promised in the silence, the heat soothing my muscles as the fruit-scented body wash foamed in my hands. The scent of peaches and berries filled the air as I lathered, scrubbing away the lingering traces of the afternoon.

I washed my hair, massaging the conditioner into every strand, the smooth sensation reminding me to stay grounded, stay focused. I carefully wiped away the makeup from today, the water clearing my skin until I felt like myself again—strong, determined, and unburdened. With one last rinse, I turned off the shower, feeling refreshed as I stepped out and wrapped myself in a soft towel.

As I moved into the room, I noticed a small note left on the table. My curiosity piqued, I picked it up and read it aloud to myself.

"Princess... Let’s meet at dinner instead. I want to make sure everything is perfect for us. —Ichiji"

I smirked, shaking my head. “So, he actually decided against it.”

There was a brief moment of amusement at his decision to keep a little distance—for now, at least. But I knew better than to underestimate him.

With a sense of anticipation, I turned toward the closet, scanning through the various gowns until one dress caught my eye. A stunning long gold gown, its neckline plunging daringly low while hugging my curves with a perfect fit. The back was completely open, the shimmering fabric catching the light as I held it up to my body. Perfect.

I slipped into the dress, feeling the luxurious fabric glide against my skin. The transformation was instant—where I had been casual, now I felt like royalty, the dress emphasizing every dip and curve, accentuating my confidence. I spritzed a light vanilla-scented perfume, the sweet aroma swirling around me as I took one last look in the mirror.

My gaze flickered to the thigh halter tucked discreetly in the drawer. I reached for it, strapping it once more around my thigh, hidden beneath the layers of golden fabric. The small blade tucked inside shimmered with a faint white hue, barely visible, but there—waiting. A quiet promise of the power I carried with me, no matter where I went.

I returned to the bathroom, carefully applying my makeup. A soft touch of blush to highlight my cheeks, a few strokes of mascara to lift my lashes, and bold black eyeliner that framed my eyes with a sharp, sultry edge. I finished with a mauve lipstick, the color deepening my lips into a tempting shade. My hair, left wavy, cascaded effortlessly down my back, complementing the boldness of the dress.

Finally, I stepped into my black strappy heels, their height adding just enough to my presence. I glanced once more in the mirror, feeling the power that surged within me—not just from the dress or the blade, but from the certainty of who I was.

As I opened the door, I noticed a soldier standing outside, stiff and formal, his armor gleaming under the hallway lights. He looked like one of the chess piece soldiers from earlier, his expression unreadable beneath the visor.

“I am to escort you to the dining hall, Princess,” he said, his tone respectful yet robotic.

I gave him a nod, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. "Lead the way."

With each step, the anticipation built within me, my heart racing as I prepared to face whatever awaited in that dining hall. After a few minutes, a soldier pointed toward the entrance, and I took a sharp left turn.

There stood Ichiji, clad in a tailored black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and fit physique. A vibrant red tie hung perfectly against the crisp white of his shirt, and he held a bouquet of deep red roses in one hand. His red-tinted shades glimmered in the candlelight, casting a soft glow over his sharp features.

As I stepped into the room, my gold dress shimmered with each movement, the fabric hugging my curves and accentuating my figure. The moment Ichiji spotted me, the roses fell from his grasp, petals scattering like forgotten promises on the polished floor. His mouth hung open, his eyes wide with awe and an unmistakable lust that sent a thrill coursing through me.

“Y/N,” he breathed, the name escaping his lips like a prayer. There was a raw intensity in his gaze, a possessiveness that made my heart flutter with excitement and a hint of nervousness. I took a step closer, my body practically magnetized to his, as I enjoyed the way his expression shifted, filled with a mix of surprise and hunger.

Ichiji then stepped closer, drawing my body to his, and a small gasp escaped my lips. He smirked, his eyes darkening with mischief. “You have no idea what I want to do right now,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my skin as he kissed my neck, sending waves of heat through me.

“W-Well,” I stammered, trying to keep my composure despite the thrill of his touch. “Maybe we should save that for after dinner, don’t you think?” I offered, my voice teasing but my heart racing.

“Dinner?” Ichiji echoed, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze unwavering. “You think I can focus on food when you’re standing there looking like that?”

“Come on, Ichiji! I’m sure the food is delicious, and we can’t let it go to waste,” I said playfully, tilting my head as I tried to gauge his reaction. I then began to walk toward the table, eyeing everything in place, from the elegantly folded napkins to the glimmering silverware. Ichiji followed closely behind, his presence a steady warmth at my back.

He escorted me to where we would be sitting, pulling my chair back with a flourish. I glided myself into the seat, feeling the soft fabric of the cushion beneath me. Ichiji settled into the chair next to me, a piece of furniture fit for a king, emphasizing his commanding presence.

A bottle of champagne was brought to the table, the cork popping with a satisfying sound, and our glasses were filled. “A toast… to a wonderful evening,” Ichiji said, raising his glass. I clinked mine against his and took a sip, savoring the crisp bubbles that danced on my tongue.

“You know, Ichiji, I was thinking…” I said, slowly trailing my hand toward his, allowing my fingers to linger against his skin. There was a possessive spark in his gaze as he watched me, a mix of hunger and want that sent shivers down my spine.

“What would it be like if it was just the two of us… with no interruptions?” I let that idea linger in the air between us, watching as his breath hitched at the suggestion.

“Suddenly, I don’t want dinner,” Ichiji replied, rising to his feet and stepping closer to me, the space between us evaporating. Our bodies were nearly touching, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine as he lowered his voice, thick with desire. “I want dessert,” he said, before pressing his lips against mine.

With a playful glint in my eye, I subtly bit his lip, eliciting a low groan from him as he gripped me tighter. The shift in power was intoxicating—this time, I was the one in control. I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, relishing the mix of desire and confusion swirling within them.

“I think we should save that for after the wedding, don’t you?” I said, my voice dripping with mischief as I toyed with the collar of his shirt. “After all, you’ve gone through all this trouble for dinner. Why not enjoy it first and see how things unfold?”

His brow furrowed, trying to process my words while desire flickered in his gaze, making my heart race. “You can’t just dangle that in front of me and expect me to focus on food,” he replied, a playful challenge lacing his voice.

“Why not?” I shrugged, leaning back against the table, my demeanor relaxed and teasing. “A little anticipation never hurt anyone. Besides, think of it as an appetizer to the real feast we could have later.” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “What’s life without a little bit of fun?”

Ichiji’s frustration was evident, but I could see him weighing my words. “You're impossible,” he said, though a smirk tugged at his lips, hinting at the thrill of the chase. I let go and began to make my way toward my chair, but Ichiji had other plans.

Before I could fully settle back, he swiftly pulled me to my feet, his hand finding its way to the small of my back. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he murmured, his voice low and tantalizing, almost a warning.

“Maybe I don’t want to get away,” I teased, gazing up at him with feigned innocence. “What are you going to do about it?”

Ichiji leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “If you keep this up, I might just take you right here, right now. Think about how much fun we could have under this table instead of dining,” he whispered, his possessiveness unmistakable, and the promise of his words sent a thrill down my spine.

“Well, doesn’t that sound tempting?” I replied, smirking as I was about to sit in my chair, but before I could settle, Ichiji pulled me toward his seat. My legs sprawled on each side of him, and he held me, keeping me from falling.

“A chair fit for a king,” I teased, my body pressed against his as I tried to wiggle a little. Ichiji groaned softly, the sound sending a rush of heat through me. I wiggled again, and his response was another low groan, almost desperate.

“Princess… please,” he said, his voice thick with restraint.

“What’s wrong, Ichiji?” I teased, my hand going to grip his shoulder before trailing towards the back of his head, scratching gently. I loved how he reacted, the way his breath hitched at my touch.

In a sudden move, Ichiji gripped me with one arm, lifting me as he stood, and with a swift motion, he scattered the plates and glasses from the table, the sound of shattering glass echoing around us. He laid me down on the table, the cool surface contrasting with the heat radiating from his body. 

“Now, let’s see who’s in control here,” he said, his voice low and hungry as he leaned over me, his eyes darkening with desire. I could feel the power radiating from him, a magnetic force that drew me in even further. Ichiji pulled my legs closer to his waist, his warmth igniting a fire within me.

With a swift motion, he discarded his suit jacket and began to unbutton his shirt, revealing toned skin beneath. I couldn’t help but admire the sight, my heart racing with anticipation. In a teasing move, I pulled on his red tie, bringing him close to me as I captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

Our mouths moved in perfect harmony, the taste of him intoxicating as I continued to discard his dress shirt, tossing it aside without a second thought. I moaned into the kiss, the sensation heightening as his hands roamed my body, igniting every nerve ending with his touch. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, a small voice in the back of my mind screamed to get a hold of myself, but the heat of the moment was too intoxicating to resist.

Ichiji suddenly pulled away for a moment, his breath heavy and labored, as he deftly undid his tie. My heart raced with curiosity, watching as he expertly tied my wrists together with it, the fabric warm against my skin, adding an unexpected thrill to the moment.

“What are you planning?” I asked, my voice a mix of eagerness and challenge, my pulse quickening as he held my wrists firmly.

Ichiji smirked, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Just a little fun, princess. Let’s see how you handle being at my mercy,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk, sending a shiver down my spine. 

Before I could respond, Ichiji silenced me with a kiss, capturing my lips with a fervor that left me breathless. His grip was possessive as he held my hands above my head, the tie he had used a tangible reminder of his control over me. I felt his other hand slip down, gripping one of my legs and pulling it toward his waist, the heat of his body igniting a fire within me as he began to trail kisses down my neck.

Each soft touch sent sparks racing through my veins, building an intensity that made my heart race. Once he found my sweet spot, I couldn’t help but moan loudly, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it. “Fuck, Ichiji,” I gasped, arching my back, surrendering to the sensations flooding my body. His hand tightened around my thigh, anchoring me in place as he continued to worship my neck with his lips, his breath hot against my skin.

“Just like that, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a primal hunger. “Let me hear you.” The way he spoke, so full of confidence and desire, only fueled my arousal further, making me crave more of him.

Suddenly, he pulled back slightly, his gaze mischievous as he reached for a tray sitting nearby. His fingers wrapped around an ice cube, and I watched, intrigued, as he brought it close. The cold glimmering against the dim light only heightened my anticipation. He traced the ice cube along my collarbone, the chill contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from his body.

I shivered at the sensation, the icy touch sending a jolt through me that was both thrilling and tantalizing. “What are you doing?” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper as the ice moved down my skin, leaving a trail of cold that made me ache for his warmth.

Ichiji smirked, his eyes darkening with intent as he continued to glide the ice cube across my skin. “Just making sure you remember who you belong to,” he replied, his voice smooth and dripping with desire. My hands were still tied, one of Ichiji’s hands holding me in place, the other tracing a path down my body.

Then, with a teasing flick of his wrist, he slid the ice cube inside my dress, resting it directly on my breast. The shock of the cold against my skin made me gasp as the cold began to seep through the fabric of my gold dress, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body so close to mine.

Ichiji’s eyes locked onto mine, a playful challenge glimmering in their depths. “Let’s see how long you can handle this,” he murmured, lowering his head to lick a trail along my collarbone, his tongue warm and inviting against the chill of the ice. Each sweep sent waves of sensation rippling through me, contrasting with the cold, igniting a fire that made me squirm against him.

His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down the side of my breast where the ice rested, and the sensation was exquisite, pushing me closer to the edge of my desire. I arched my back, chasing the feeling as his lips met the damp fabric of my dress, teasingly pressing against me.

“Are you enjoying this, princess?” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, a stark contrast to the ice. I could barely form a response, lost in the sensations flooding my body. My heart raced as the combination of heat and cold heightened my every nerve.

“Yes, Ichiji,” I finally managed to gasp, my voice breathless. “More… please.”

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated through me, and I could see the pleasure in his eyes at my surrender. With a wicked grin, he took the ice cube from my dress, his fingers brushing against my skin, and brought it back to my lips, his gaze daring me to take it. I opened my mouth instinctively, and he pressed the ice against my tongue, a rush of cold flooding my senses as he leaned in closer, claiming my lips once again.

Ichiji darkly laughed, his lips brushing against mine once more. “Now, about dessert…” he murmured, his body pinning me down on the table, creating an intoxicating mix of heat and urgency. I felt the weight of his body pressing against me, my leg hoisted around his waist, and the undeniable pressure of him against me sent my heart racing.

Just as I was losing myself in the moment, a familiar voice cut through the air like a knife. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Yonji’s teasing tone echoed in the dining hall as he strolled in, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.Ichiji's expression darkened immediately, his body tensing as he turned to face Yonji, his posture protective, yet filled with a simmering anger. "Get out," Ichiji snapped, his voice low and firm, but his eyes were cold with a warning.

Yonji raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing brighter as he took in the sight before him. "Well, well," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "Seems like my brother's been busy. I never thought I'd see the day when Ichiji gets so cozy with his bride-to-be." He paused, his grin widening as he took a slow step forward. "This certainly changes the dynamics, doesn’t it?"

My heart raced, the realization of the position we were in hitting me all at once. Ichiji’s tie still loosely held my wrist, my leg wrapped around him in an undeniably intimate way. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, mortified at being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

I couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly, trying to ease the tension, though it only seemed to add fuel to the fire. "Well, this is something," I muttered, glancing up at Ichiji, who was already glaring at his younger brother. I could practically feel the waves of frustration radiating from him.

Ichiji’s grip on me tightened, and he stood up, lifting me gently, his eyes locked onto Yonji’s. "This isn’t your concern," Ichiji growled, his voice sharp as he moved to put space between us, trying to shield me from Yonji's relentless teasing.

“Aw, come on,” Yonji continued, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Can’t a brother just check in on his sibling? I thought you were supposed to be charming her with your romantic dinner, not getting all handsy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as Ichiji shot Yonji a warning look, his possessiveness bubbling beneath the surface. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” he retorted, but I could see the flush creeping up his cheeks, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Fine, fine,” Yonji said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just remember, you’re both still on the clock. The wedding’s tomorrow, after all.”

His words hung in the air, reminding me of the very reason we were in this elaborate chateau in the first place. This was my perfect excuse to make my exit. I smiled sweetly at Ichiji, relishing the way his expression shifted from desire to annoyance. “Well, it seems I should head back to my room before I cause too much trouble. I’m sure I’ll see you later tonight… or should we switch roles, and I meet you in your room?” I teased, knowing full well I planned to snoop around this chateau later.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened with possessiveness at the suggestion, a hint of frustration in his voice as he replied, “You don’t have to leave just because he showed up. I—”

“Don’t worry, Ichiji,” I interrupted, biting my lip to suppress a smile. “I’ll come back. I’m just… ensuring that I’m not caught causing any more scandal.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Yonji chimed in, his grin widening. “You’re just going to leave him hanging like this? How cruel, Y/N. I’d say you’re breaking his poor little heart.”

“Shut up, Yonji!” Ichiji growled, his grip tightening on my waist, the possessiveness radiating from him as if he were silently claiming me all over again.

“Maybe I’ll tell the whole family about this little rendezvous,” Yonji teased, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. “Imagine the scandal at the wedding if they found out their charming groom couldn’t keep his hands to himself!”

“Try it, and I’ll make sure you regret it,” Ichiji shot back, but there was a playful glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t truly angry.

I stood up, the tension in the air shifting as I adjusted my dress and let the tie fall from my wrists, relishing the lingering sensation of Ichiji’s touch. “Guess I’ll see you both later,” I said, throwing a wink at Ichiji that promised more to come.

As I turned to leave, I heard Ichiji’s voice behind me, low and intense. “Don’t think for a second that I’ll forget this, Y/N.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, a thrill racing through me as I walked away, the anticipation of what was to come leaving me breathless. But I was already gliding past Yonji, a playful smirk on my lips as I exited the dining hall, leaving the brothers to their bickering. The night was still young, and I had my own plans set in motion.

[luckymoonly]

🏹Weekly Fengqing fic rec🗡

☆The Hardest Truth, rated T, 6k, by kakera @unfortunatelycake

Summary: Feng Xin is on a date. He's determined to make it work this time, because he can't have what he really wants. Women are the only way he knows, so why shouldn't this work?He almost believes it, until the arrival of Mu Qing throws everything he thought into question.

☆ day seven-"if we both want to fit, we'll need to cuddle", rated G, 1.2k, by good_vs_evo @el-writes-things

Summary: and there was only one bed...fengqing miiiight like each other. a little bit.

☆How to lose 800 years of cultivation, rated E, 24.6k by Princeliest

Mu Qing and Feng Xin are together. Any fulfilling and well-rounded romantic relationship is one that involves s. Ergo, Mu Qing and Feng Xin should have s. The only problem with that is that Mu Qing's cultivation is dependent on vows of celibacy that he took 800 years ago. Thankfully, he's never actually been interested in s himself, so as long as Feng Xin doesn't touch him too much, they can do whatever Feng Xin wants. It should be fine. It should be fine.

☆ In my head (i didn't think you'd understand me), rated T, 1.5k, by swyllh

Summary: Mu Qing can't believe his luck.

[lesharl-eclair]

lewis ot3 fic recs

for @f1ot3fest !! i promised myself i wouldn't ramble but this turned out ridiculously long so ... i actually need to learn to shut up

all fics below the cut; if you enjoyed these fics, please show the authors comment and kudo love; should you be the author of a fic that's here, and don't want to be here, please reach out to me and your wish is my command :)

NO this is so funny bcs half of this is fics by the creator/recced by the creator BUT ITS OK. THESE LITERALLY ARE SO DEAR TO ME *clutches to chest* please go read please go read

***

heist AU by @sionisjaune (sebcedes)

on golden sands (T, 6.2k)

Mark rolls his eyes. “Skip the crap, Jense. Who’s the mark.” Jenson lifts his whiskey and swallows the dregs. “One Baron Nico Rosberg. Currently installed in Greece, inherited the title from his mother. His father—” “Keke Rosberg. 1982 Formula One World Drivers Champion,” says Seb. The others look at him like he’s just materialized out of thin air. Lewis cocks his head thoughtfully, and the bizarre sleeves of his jacket rustle with the movement.

the ships that go sailing (E, 11.7k)

As it turns out, threesomes are not especially logistically challenging when two of the participants are experienced organizers of high-profile heists, and the third is determinedly horny.

err okay i think this was something i read before i had the concept of sebcedes or like ot3s. so it was a pure yOU CAN DO THAT??? visceral reaction the first time i read on golden sands. i was quaking in my seat. anyway upon sufficient rereads i have apparently collected my thoughts enough to say that the first part of the series is nothing like the second in terms of content (i read all the way to the middle of the ships that go sailing and suddenly realised that it was a sequel and uh. had a very violent reaction.)

the premise is wonderful, oceans 11 is great to begin with and the way every detail is taken care of in the au!! the characterisation of it all... the tangled mess of interpersonal relationship... it feels like every character has their space to shine, and this on top of a quasi-convoluted plot is quite incredible. aND THE SEBCEDES OH MY GOD THE SEBCEDES. the denouement. the start of something that seb can;t even begin to imagine. lewis and nico both being batshit crazy. sex retirement fic. somehow you managed to capture all the nuances (brocedes + seb + the emotional push pull + the competition?? a bit of quiet almost fragile sico? the boat scene hello??? brocedes being so chaotic it gives me whiplash?????) i actually cannot get enough of the way you write them

i can probably write so much more about this but i will stop here :0 maybe one day i will rereview this and end up with a five page essay or something. who knows.

***

Circle Endless by @antimonyandthyme (E, 2k) (brocedes + seb)

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” Nico said, very salesman like, as if he sensed Sebastian just needed an extra push.

the vibes here are so horrifically good. lowkey unhealthy. probably one of THE defining brocedes + seb fics - it's set up and played out as a 2v1 (in 2016!!), and the toxicity of it all is so asasasandsjfadjsfasdfs . there's so much conflict everywhere: within seb, the way brocedes also fight for dominance on the bed (bc of course they do), seb needing more despite whatever it's doing to him... that scene with kimi is pure poetry. so much to unpack in so little, and excellent excellent sex

***

made a hundred good stories by @red-flagging (E, 24.6k) (for a kinkmeme prompt) (alex + sewis)

“That problem you were telling me about,” Seb says, giving Alex a meaningful look. “I wanted to know if you wanted us to help you take care of it. Lewis and I.” This isn’t happening. Alex is having the most stressful, least erotic wet dream of all time. Helmut has gotten bored of subtle nudges and has graduated to full-on psychological warfare to get Alex to quit on his own and save the team from having to buy out his contract. Lewis actually did give him a concussion in Austria, and the long-term brain damage is only now starting to set in. "...You can't be serious," Alex says weakly. Seb shrugs. “You don’t have to say yes,” he says. “But if you’re just looking to have some fun–it might as well be with people who know what they’re doing.”

ok claire. coherence.

I CANNOT BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS FIC LIKE AT ALL??? i have tried so many times

the alex characterisation. the hellhole that is redbull. the exhaustion. so much DETAIL that it's painful to look at

the galex? the galex. oh my god the way it meanders in all the little spaces between alex's frankly ridiculously busy life, the LAYERS. the so much unsaid & the way they dance around each other even in texts. the way alex holds himself back but still wants.

alex/seb. seb being an all round menace to society (Quite honestly, he sort of forgets the conversation with Lewis even happened up until Bahrain, when Seb sidles up to him on some balcony on Thursday and says, casually, “So, gay cruising, eh?”) ?????? ? ? ? ? the perfect timing of seb's proposition. so much else but the deviousness of it all..

that little bit with alex and lewis. the painful awkwardness of that conversation (but also how much lewis eventually got out of it). seb's retirement & lewis' instant protectiveness!! ^^

the racing metaphors are so apt somehow (and even more fitting because alex has basically been consumed by the redbull grind........) this is a detail i personally really really enjoyed

THE SEX bro i cannot even?????? ???? i cannot do it justice here but um. the sewis is clearly there and framed so strikingly against a hesitant tired alex. the games sewis play. LEWIS GUIDING ALEX.SFSHHGSHGHHHHGG the car's still spinning and the walls that don't exist...... how at the end of it all it's still only glimpses of sewis that alex gets but how it's enough for him to maybe start figuring things out with georgie.... the post sex clarity....

oh this was so damn incoherent wasn't it. this fic made me, to quote @kritischetheologie, reconsider everything i thought i knew about alex albon.

***

a bedroom where your heart is by @hungerpunch (M, 1.5k) (vasewis)

“Someone will have to go for ingredients,” Valtteri says. He does not happen to keep vegan cheese stocked. “I vote the youngest,” Sebastian says, grin sly. Valtteri blinks. “Wait—” “Sorry,” Sebastian says, affecting a suspiciously convincing faux innocence, as if he’s truly apologetic but his hands are simply tied. “Seniority rules.”

closing this with some good achingly wholesome content. FOOD AS LOVE and i am so so so here for it oh my goddddd ... val taking care of sewis and finding the greatest satisfaction from it/it not being always about the sex (though the sex IS good!) and finding contentment in those small domestic-bliss moments/the scene-setting, the food described as lovingly as it's prepared, the quiet early-hour moments and seb in a way the middleground between val's discipline and lewis' indulgence when it comes to mornings... there's so much to just revel in and enjoy here!! a comfort fic in the truest senst of the word. :)

***

that was long. and probably extremely incoherent. oh well. thanks for reading till the end and remember to show the authors some love!!

as always, if you enjoyed this, or if i missed any fic, please let me know :) drop me an ask mayhaps if you would like more fic recs, and i will try my best to give timely unqualified opinions <3

[ewelinakl]

ewelinakl's fic masterlist

Our Flag Means Death

1. A Pirate Triptych (steddyhands, E, 82k) — When Ed turns into a monster and does some unspeakably cruel things, Izzy and Stede team up to turn him back into his old, gentler self and make him atone for what he's done. — finished ● losing my religion (i'm not my own) [Ed/Izzy, Spanish Jackie/Izzy, E, 9.5k] — The story of Izzy's relationship with Blackbeard, from their first meeting all the way until the birth of the Kraken. Izzy's POV ● it's beginning to get to me (no one knows what this fight's about) [Ed/Stede, pre Stede/Izzy, E, 24.6k] — Stede finds an unlikely ally in his quest to get Ed back. (It's Izzy.) Stede's POV. ● i don't know who i am (but now I know who i'm not) [Ed/Stede, Ed/Izzy, Ed/Stede/Izzy, E, 47.8k] — It's time for Ed to face the Kraken and take accountability for his actions. Ed's POV.

2. Three Men in a Boat (steddyhands, E) — a series for tying up loose ends from the Pirate Triptych and other steddyhands shenanigans. — open ● love is a distant aroma at best (Stede/Izzy, rated E for the conversation subject, 3.4k) — a missing scene to chapter one of i don't know who i am (but now I know who i'm not) ● align my heart, my body, my mind (Ed/Stede/Izzy, E, 46.3k) — a follow-up to the Pirate Triptych, set a few years later. Mary and Doug go on a honeymoon, leaving the kids with Stede and his two not-quite-husbands. ● tell me we'll never get used to it (Ed/Izzy, E, 2.3k) — pre-Pirate Triptych. Ed enjoys pushing Izzy's boundaries. ● we make our choices and take what comes (Ed/Izzy, Ed/Stede, Stede/Izzy, Ed/Stede/Izzy, Sam/Izzy, E) — ongoing — historical fantasy AU. Izzy is a famous assassin hired by the Badmintons to kill Queen Mary. Stede is the Queen's Protector (not because he's good at combat, it's just a shiny title he got because he saved her once) and friend. Edward is an eldritch deity who likes to mess with people and shares his magic with Izzy, helping him kill the Queen. But when Stede gets wrongly accused of regicide, Ed offers his powers to Stede as well, twisting the future until it brings Stede and Izzy together.

3. BBC (bellhands brainrot conglomerate) [Sam Bellamy/Izzy Hands, M to E] — a collection of fics centred around the good ship bellhands. — open ● there's no me without you (Sam Bellamy/Izzy Hands, M, 8k) — Sam makes one more desperate attempt trying to convince Izzy to leave Blackbeard. Will it work this time? Sam's POV. ● a fable from broken things (Sam/Izzy, Ed/Stede, E, 24.8k) — In which the Revenge gets her mast broken in a storm, her captains have no choice but to stop at Hispaniola, run into Sam Bellamy, get invited for tea with him and Izzy, and realise that their relationship is really messy and strained in comparison to their hosts'. And when Izzy Hand's relationship seems healthier than yours, you know you've got some work to do. ● no one is born a hero (Sam/Izzy, E) — ongoing — modern au. Izzy gets dumped after seven years together with Ed and is not handling it well. so what are the chances of him not blowing it when Jackie introduces him to a man who seems to be tailor-made for him? Izzy's POV. ● someone has to leave first (Sam/Izzy, Ed/Izzy, background Ed/Stede, E, 11.1k) — Incubus Sam gets imprisoned by the British. Izzy teams up with Paul to save him. Edward, who's never shaken off the Kraken thing, is not happy about this double loyalty. ● call it courage (Sam/Izzy, E, 1.9k) — Sam asks to be choked during sex. Izzy is both turned on and terrified by the concept. ● leaning towards the sun (Sam/Izzy, E, 1.5k) — A very hard bike seat and a bumpy road leave Izzy embarrassingly hot and bothered. Thankfully, Sam is more than willing to help out with that. ● voici mon cœur (qui ne bat que pour toi) (Sam/Izzy, T, 1.5k) — Sam and Izzy get married. — written for Tying the Knot zine; art by @reinarandraw ● j’ai presque peur, en vérité (Sam/Izzy, E, 2.5k) — Sam and Izzy's wedding night. Follow up to the previous fic. — written for the NSFW tie-in to Tying the Knot zine. ● you had me at 'you fucking twat!' (Sam/Izzy, E) — ongoing — modern AU. You'd think months of arguing with his ex-boyfriend/business partner would teach Izzy not to get romantically involved with people he works with. No such luck, though. He's still dumb as rocks. In his defence — have you seen Sam Bellamy??? — art by @reinarandraw

4. vampire verse (Stede/Izzy, E) — a collection of loosely-connected one-shots. vampire!Izzy/human!Stede, post-season 1. — open ● drink me like a bottle of wine (Stede/Izzy, E, 2.8k) — Stede discovers that Izzy is a vampire and gets turned on by the ideas this gives him. Horny times ensue. ● a little broken, a little new (Stede/Izzy, E, 4.8k) — follow up to drink me like a bottle of wine; idiots in love (struggling to articulate their feelings). ● green yellow, green blue (Stede/Izzy, Sam/Izzy, pre-Sam/Stede/Izzy, E, 9.9k) — Stede and Izzy cross paths with Izzy's first love.

5. forest verse (Stede/Izzy, Ed/Izzy, Ed/Stede, steddyhands, E) — a collection of loosely-connected one-shots. leshy Izzy, leshy Ed, human Stede. inspired by Polish folklore. — open ● the forest is my cradle and it's where i'll die (Stede/Izzy, E, 2.9k) — Stede cuts some trees without making suitable offerings to the forest spirit, and now he has to pay for his crime. (Leshy!Izzy/human!Stede, inspired by Polish folklore.) ● spill your seeds, wait for spring (steddyhands, E, 8.1k) — After Blackbeard's forest is destroyed, he decides to pay a visit to his old friend. their dynamic is not what it used to be. (Leshy!Ed, leshy!Izzy, human!Stede.)

6. birds of a feather (Calico Jack/Charles Vane, steddyhands, E) — everyone lives au, post-season 1, Calico Jack-centric. — finished ● blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine) [Calico Jack/Charles Vane, E, 6.6k] — Jack survives the encounter with Ed and the Navy and starts a new life aboard the Ranger. His new captain turns out to be his kind of a freak. ● all birds must land eventually [Calico Jack/Charles Vane, steddyhands, E, 21.7k] — Stede, Ed, and Izzy accept an invitation to dine with Captain Vane and his quartermaster. What could possibly go wrong?

7. end of an era (Sam/Izzy, Calico Jack/Charles Vane, M-E) — everyone lives, nobody dies; post-season 1. Hornigold and Rogers plan to end piracy in the Caribbean. The pirates are not thrilled. — ongoing ● brave (is just another word for being afraid) [Calico Jack/Charles Vane, E, 29.1k] — Jack has always been a coward. But he'll have to muster all the courage he has left and face his greatest nightmare if he wants to save himself and his friends. ● pitch black, pale blue (Sam Bellamy/Izzy, Ed & Izzy, M, 6.6k) — after the Kraken nearly kills him, Izzy realises it's time to move on. post-s2ep06.

● landscape after cruelty (Hornigold/Izzy, one-sided Calico/Izzy, E, 1.6k) — Hornigold calls Jack to do the hard work for him while he sits back and enjoys the show.

● knives, singing for blood (Hornigold/Izzy, E, 1.8k) — When their navigator fucks up, Hornigold decides to take out his frustration on his favourite toy. Dead dove.

● you can call it anything (but that was love) (past Ed/Izzy, Ed/Stede, Sam/Izzy, M, 3.4k) — Izzy moved on. Ed thought he did.

● relax (we're in this together) [Jim/Izzy, E, 3.7k] — Jim helps Izzy work on his confidence after losing his leg.

● welcome to the new age (Ed/Stede/Izzy, E, 3.5k) — When they started this whole thing a year ago, Israel could only think of one rule for him and Stede — no romance.

● dangerous liaisons (Calico Jack/Charles Vane/Roach, E, 12.4k) — Roach gets a chance to do something about his crush on Jack.

● darkness, rewritten (Ed/Izzy, Ed/Stede/Izzy, T, 3.6k) — Ed & Izzy have a tender little moment together. post-season 2, everybody lives au.

● what holy men really mean when they speak of sin (Calico Jack/Charles Vane, E, 8.6k) — A priest and a sailor meet in a seedy bar in Saint-Malo. companion piece to we make our choices and take what comes

● Longing for Home (It's You) (Stede/Izzy, E, 11.2k) — cowritten with piratejamming — Stede gets invited to Mary and Doug's wedding. He decides to take Izzy as his plus one, even though they aren't together.

● something more (Calico Jack/Charles Vane, M, 3.5k) — a Witcher AU. There's a striga on the loose. Jack plans to write a ballad about the witcher who defeats it.

● two fools on a ship (and a really good coat) [Calico Jack/Charles Vane, T, 2k] — a companion piece to @sweveris' two ships in a gale (and a bit of a flirt); written for the CWW server zine — A storm brings Ed and Jack together. They make up. Sort of.

● abundance of violence (Hornigold/Calico Jack, Calico Jack/Ed, E, 4.8k) — backstory to brave — Jack is Hornigold's favourite toy for torture play. Dead dove, mind the tags.

● a hundred lifetimes, a hundred worlds (Roach/Izzy, T, 3.5k) — Solulmates AU. Roach and Izzy meeting in different lifetimes and worlds.

● home is not where you live, but who cares when you're gone (steddyhands, M, 1.5k) — A raid goes wrong and for a while, everyone thinks Izzy is dead. — written for the Even Keel zine.

The Witcher

1. between the lines (Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt/Yennefer, M to E) — a series of short fics following the timeline of the novels — unfinished (on hiatus) ● on my knees and out of luck, I look up (Geralt/Jaskier, M, 3.6k) — Geralt rides into a small town in the middle of nowhere and finds Jaskier there. set post Shard of Ice. ● the wolf and the nightingale (Geralt/Jaskier, E, 2.5k) — Geralt discovers that he's not immune to Jaskier's charms and games. set during A Little Sacrifice. ● thief of fire (Geralt/Jaskier, G, 1.8k) — Jaskier writes a ballad and it comes true against all odds. set during Something More. ● verse. chorus. verse. (Geralt/Jaskier, E, 3.3k) — Geralt starts overthinking things because he feels guilty about the incident between Jaskier and Rience. set between The Blood of Elves and The Time of Contempt. ● when the world seems a dungeon (Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt/Yennefer, E, 3.9k) — Geralt feels guilty about leaving Jaskier for Yen, Jaskier is tired of this nonsense. set during The Time of Contempt.

2. a modern bestiary (Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt/Yennefer, M, T, E) — a modern au (characterisation based on the novels, not the games or the show) — unfinished (on hiatus) ● of witchers and men (Geralt/Jaskier, M, 5k) — Geralt sees a singer in trouble and simply has to help. Geralt's POV. ● basilisk's gaze (Geralt/Jaskier, T, 6k) — Geralt might not be a streetwise Hercules, but he makes Jaskier feel safe and calm, even when everything goes wrong. Jaskier's POV. ● and the djinni said (Geralt/Yennefer, E, 3k) — He came to her with Jaskier's blessing. Yen's POV.

Dishonored

Children of the Many-Eyed God (Geoff Curnow/Slackjaw, Kirin Jindosh/Alexandria Hypathia, Daud/Thomas, M) — Slackjaw as the long-lost Prince of Tyvia, Geoff as the Prince Consort, Kirin as the Royal Inventor, Alexandria as the Royal Physician, Daud & Thomas as Spymasters, with a hearty side of worldbuilding and a brand new Tyvian god. — unfinished ● The Prince, the Guard, and the Many-Eyed God (Geoff Curnow/Slackjaw, M, 54.7k) — The Old Gods of Tyvia choose strange paths for their children. Slackjaw's path leads from the criminal underworld of Dunwall, into the arms of a Watchman, and to the throne that is rightfully his. ● The Heart of a Dead Thing (Kirin Jindosh/Alexandria Hypatia, M, 59.3k) — He's a refugee, an addict, an Academy dropout, a wayward child of his god. He's a loyal servant to his Prince, Tyvia's future Royal Inventor, the brightest mind of the Empire. He's young, and he's learning and refuses to let other people define him when he cannot yet define himself. (a.k.a. the redemption arc Kirin deserved) ● Sea of Regret, Knife of Redemption (Daud/Thomas, M) — ongoing — Daud and Thomas, the Royal Spymasters of Tyvia and Wei-Ghon, team up with Billie to save Sokolov and solve the mystery of Delilah's escape from the Void. The Many-Eyed Bird might be willing to help, too. (think Dishonored 2, but Daud is the protagonist and Jindosh & Hypatia work against Delilah and her her circle.)

American Gods

● A Little Prayer (The Jinn | Ifrit/Salim, T, >1k) — a fluffy little reunion fic set post-season 1

[foxmulderautism]

i cant tell if im being a stupid idiot or if my scrivener is being a stupid idiot bc i swear last night it was saying i was at like 24.6k or something and now it is saying i am at 23.4k. which is the correct one i put all the different scene's word counts into a calculator but why did you tell me i was at 24k before

[daes0]

Ending One

Rafayel and all the ways he says he l̶̯̞̱̬̘̜̗̏͒̂̐̈͋̍̓ô̶̡͙̤̻̐̓͑̚͝v̴͕͖̙̦̩͚͓̠̌̄͂͒͜ȇ̵̪̆͐̒̈́͠s̶̬̬̼͆͛̚ you.

Pairing: {Rafayel x Reader}

Rating: {Mature}

Word Count: {2.3k words, 24.6k for entire work}

liar liar lover

You wake up in a hospital room. Rafayel is asleep next to you, but he stirs when he hears you moving.

"_____?" his voice is etched in worry. "Oh my god, _____!"

Rafayel envelops you in a hug, careful not to accidentally hurt you but so desperate to have you in his arms.

He lets go begrudgingly. "You've been asleep for four days," he tells you, his brows furrowed together. "You can't just leave me like that!"

"Not like I did it on purpose," you say, and your voice is scratchy and rough.

Rafayel hugs you again. "I thought you were going to die, _____," he mumbles against your hair. "So much… so much happened."

"Tell me what happened," you say.

So he does.

Rafayel tells you about how he had gone into the bathroom inside the exhibit when all of a sudden he heard screaming. He tried to get out, but the door wouldn't budge. He managed to escape the brunt of the arson attack because of it.

You don't question it. How could you? It's Rafayel, the love of your life, and you feel so tired to think anything more of it. You can't help the brain fog, but even if you didn't have that you still would refuse to question him. It's Rafayel. Rafayel is safe. Rafayel is yours.

He wouldn't hurt you. He wouldn't hurt anyone.

~

Xavier comes to visit you. He informs you that the hunters are sure that this was an arsonist's work and are investigating everything they possibly can. He tells you that all the paintings were destroyed, but it was confirmed that one of them went missing.

~

More time passes.

You've mostly recovered now. It's been two months since the attack. You've been living in Rafayel's place since you were discharged from the hospital. You didn't want to be alone, and Rafayel needed to recover from the exhibit, so you two just ended up living in his art studio.

You've gone through a lot together.

~ 

“It’s a promise.”

You're surprised at the gift. A lovescale- a fish scale fossil that's in the shape of a heart. "If it's our anniversary, I literally forgot to keep track of it-"

"It's not because of that," he says with a small chuckle. "It's because I love you."

You realize that he hasn't said it outside of the fogged up mirror. And you're surprised, because it feels like he's said it. Then you realize that he's said it in a myriad of ways that mean I love you, but just not worded as "I love you." He's loved you for a long time now. Rafayel loves you.

"What do you promise?" you ask as you accept the gift.

"That I'll love you forever. Through all our lifetimes, through all the universes, through every existence. I'll love you an eternity's worth."

You feel your heart melt at his words. "I love you too, Rafayel."

You kiss him, softly at first, gentle, then with more force, more passion.

He pulls back for breath. "Wait, wait, I had something else planned."

You tilt your head, curious, and wait for him to continue.

Rafayel goes to the closet and pulls out a small painting.

You recognize it immediately as one of the one's from the exhibit.

"Did you remake it?" you ask, a little nervous but you're not sure why.

"No," he shakes his head, "It's from the last Flux Arts exhibit."

You're confused for a moment, but then remember what Xavier said. About a painting being missing. About how the hunters thought the arsonist had stolen it.

Your heart beats faster.

"Rafayel," your mouth feels dry, "Why do you have this?"

He smiles, as if it means nothing, as if it means absolutely fucking nothing. "I'm the killer, my love."

You don't know how to react, but a shudder of fear goes through your body. As a hunter, you've been taught to act, to avoid the instinct to freeze. But you can't help it. You can't move. It's Rafayel, and because of that you can't move. You hesitate. You fucking hesitate.

You can barely talk, but one question comes out of your lips anyway. "Why?"

Rafayel takes a step closer. "Humans have persecuted my people for generations. I managed to track down the reincarnations that almost made my people extinct, and, well… I wanted vengeance."

He says it so nonchalantly, like he's explaining why he likes seafood.

"Rafayel," you say in a low voice. "Raf… What- what do you mean?" You're so confused. "You- you're… No, no…" you start laughing under your breath. "Raf, this is a sick joke, this is a disgusting joke."

"It's not a joke," he says with a tilt of his head.

"No, fuck, stop it, Raf." You're mad. You're so mad. You went through hell as a hunter on this case and now he's making fun of it? You hate it. For a moment, you hate him.

"I'm not joking."

He takes another step closer. 

"I'm not joking," he repeats, the same old smile on his face.

Suddenly there's a knife to your throat.

The smile is gone now. "I'm not joking."

"Raf-"

The knife digs into the skin of your neck, and you feel warm blood pool on its edge.

You don't know what to do. You don't know how to move.

"What are you going to do, _____?" Rafayel asks you.

You try to remember your training, but nothing comes to mind. So, instead of acting as a hunter, you act as yourself. "Put the knife down."

Rafayel breathes in a laugh, but then he lowers the blade. "What are you going to do now?"

"Why are you doing this?" you can't help but ask. "I didn't know it was you. I didn't know. Why did you tell me? Why did you want me to know?"

"Because I love you. Because I want you to love me for everything I am. Because this- this vengeance, is part of who I am."

"No," you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of this nightmare. "No, no, you're Rafayel, you're not… you're not a killer."

"I've lived a long life, _____. You don't live as an immortal without killing a few people."

"Then why- why kill without reason?" You're so confused. Your eyes well up with tears. You want this nightmare to desperately be over.

"It's not without reason." He lifts the knife and brings it up to his lips. He's about to lick it, taste your blood, but something in him makes him stop. He lowers the knife. "It's vengeance."

"For what?!" you beg.

"For my people," he explains calmly.

"It's been centuries-"

"And they keep coming back." His eyes darken. "You humans. You always reincarnate. You always come back. And you always hurt my people, you always kill or maim us for our blood. You've spent lifetimes with our blood on your hands!"

"I haven't!" Your scream echoes across his art studio. Then, in a quieter, broken voice, you repeat it. "I haven't."

He thinks about this for a moment. "You're right. Your lifetimes may be complacent, but you've never hurt us. If anything, you've helped us survive many times. But that's why I didn't kill you. That's why I killed them instead."

You're quiet.

"Speak," he asks. "I need you to talk. Need to know what you're thinking. Need to know what you're planning on doing."

"Are you going to kill me?" you ask just above a whisper.

"No." He flips the knife from one hand to the other. "I don't want to."

"What if I tell the hunters-"

"You won't." He smiles that bastard smile. "I know you won't."

You feel your knees give out and you find yourself on the ground.

He kneels down in front of you.

"So, _____. What are you going to do?"

He takes your hand and puts the knife on your palm.

"Do you want to kill me?"

You grip the knife, but your hand shakes. 

(Why do you hesitate?)

The knife drops to the floor.

He hums in approval. "It's okay if you change your mind, you know. I won't stop until I'm forced to."

You stare at the knife on the floor. Your vision spins. Black dots form at the edges, and you feel like you're fading.

"I love you, _____."

Rafayel suddenly hugs you, holding you in his strong arms. And in the moment, you find yourself wanting the comfort. You accept the hug. Your tears fall on his shoulder.

"Do you still love me?" he asks.

And you're not sure. You're not sure.

"It's okay," he coos. "You don't have to say anything right now."

You're not sure.

"I love you," he reminds you, kissing you on the forehead. "We'll be okay."

You're not sure.

~

Rafayel carries you to the bed before tucking you in. "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight," he tells you. "Let me know if you need anything."

And so you sleep.

You dream of a different life, one where Rafayel is gentler, where he's the person you fell in love with and there are no secrets. And in that dream, you're still not sure, so you choose yourself. It's an okay choice to make. You live your life, and you find that you can survive just fine without him. You have your family- your grandmother and your stepbrother, both of which love you to the ends of the world. You have your friends- Zayne, who's a bit cold but has gotten warmer and cares so much about you, and Xavier, who's kind and always there to help you when you need it the most. A part of you wishes that Rafayel was there too, but it's okay that he's not. It's okay.

You wake up.

The knife is next to you on the nightstand. This time, you're determined. You take it and walk out of the room. Rafayel sleeps quietly on the couch.

His sleeping face, the gentle movement of his chest, the soft curls of his hair falling over his eyelids.

You promised yourself you wouldn't hesitate, that you wanted to kill the person who threatened your beloved. But it's Rafayel, your one and only. Your soulmate.

Rafayel had once told you that some soulmates are destined for tragedy. Is that what you are?

Your hands shake. For some reason, you don't want to drop it again, don't want him to awake with the sound of a knife. So you place the knife next to him on the table, giving it back.

You rub at your neck, feel the nicked wound, further confirmation that last night happened. There's a bit of dried blood on you, brittle against your fingertips. You head to the bathroom.

You open the faucet. Let the cool water rush in, covering your hands. It's striking, how cold it is, how frigid you feel. You bring a damp hand to your neck, shaking against the blood. You rub off the majority, but you still feel a bit of it stuck to your skin.

You grab a hand towel and bring it to the water. It's cold touch seeps in, and finally you bring it up to your neck. The cut stings against the roughness of the towel, but it works. You make sure not to break it back open.

The hand towel falls off your hands. You're shaking so much. You reach down and grab it. Your reflection on the mirror catches your eye as you straighten back up.

Your eyes are dark, swollen and tear-stained. You're crying. You clench your jaw and unclench, trying to focus.

Your reflection stares back at you. Why are you here?

"It's a promise," Rafayel had said.

The lovescale is in your hands. You don't remember when you pulled it out of your pocket. You just know that you've been staring at it for a while. Did you lose yourself again?

It's so heavy in your hands. You turn it around, letting the limited light of the bathroom shimmer against the scale's brilliant colors, somehow still bright against the darkness.

A laugh rumbles against your chest. You're laughing. You don't know why. 

"_____?" Rafayel calls out.

You put the lovescale back in your pockets. You exit the bathroom. "I'm here," you call out.

He gets up to stretch his muscles. You sit down on the couch and wait for him.

Finally, he sits back down. "Want to watch TV?" he suggests.

You hear the roar of a storm overhead. "Sure."

"Seems like it's gonna rain again today," Rafayel mentions off-hand.

"Yeah," you agree. "I kinda want to watch a romcom."

"Ooh, that sounds nice," he responds, then searches for a good romcom movie to watch.

You two end up cuddling next to each other on the couch. You feel the uneasiness on your chest, but for now you remain calm. You try to pay attention to the movie, you really do, but each word leaves your mind as soon as it comes. You try hard to hold onto the words that the main actress says, something about a four-leaf clover. Then you're distracted again, thinking about how only a few months ago, Rafayel had given you a clover. It was pressed in between the pages of a leather-bound journal. You don't remember where that journal is.

Now you can't help but think about it. This bit of flora, springing out of the ground, and taken. A destiny to be stuck in the pages of the dead flesh of a tree, kept as a memento.

The movie ends. Rafayel is smiling and laughing and you feel a pit in your stomach.

Memento mori, you think.

"Hmm?" he tilts his head in confusion. A sick part of you sees that and thinks it's cute.

"It's nothing. I guess I'm just distracted, is all."

You tuck your head in the crook of his neck. You breathe in his scent, let it overwhelm your senses, let it infiltrate all your thoughts.

He kisses your forehead. "It's okay."

END OF ENDING ONE

[parmahamlarrie]

Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Famous/Famous fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

Down the Line || @sunflouwerhabit || 279.9k ** Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Famous/Famous, Baseball AU, American AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? || hemakeshimstrongx || 129.9k ** Famous/Famous, Singer Harry, Footballer Louis, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Taylor x Travis AU

My Hands at Risk, I Fold || @yourgorgeouscolors28 || 43.7k Established Relationship, Injury Recovery, Famous/Famous, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Fluff

Heartbreak Anniversary || @brightgolden || 24.6k GBBO, Famous/Famous AU, Exes to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending

daydream about me || louistomlinsons || 21.5k  Girl Direction, Famous/Famous, Fluff, Coming Out (sorta), Idiots to Lover

darling, I’ll take care of you || @louly23 || 20.3k  Girl Direction, Famous/Famous, KidFic

I Want All Your Saturday Nights || @homosociallyyours || 10.8k  Girl Direction, Famous Louis, SNL Cast Member Harry

Just Walk My Way || softandslow || 10.2k Model Louis, Famous/Famous

Glass Heart || @musketrois || 7.3k Footie Louis, Popstar Harry, Famous/Famous, Coming Out

the stars are coming home || @harrystinyshorts || 5.1k  Famous/Famous, Footie Louis, Singer Harry, Injured Fic, Fluff

sensitive to pressure || @gaycousinlarry || 4.4k Hockey AU, Established Relationship, Closeted Character, Light Angst and Smut

Lights Are So Bright || @becomeawendybird || 2.1k Famous/Famous, Taylor Swift AU, Football Player Louis, Singer Harry, Meet-Cute

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | june 10 - june 16

note: this chapter FINALLY includes some NSFW content. you have been forewarned. i do believe every chapter beyond this will also include NSFW content. y'all follow my blog– this should not come as a surprise. WELCOME TO THE FIC JAMIE DRYSDALEEEEEEE! another forewarning: this is the longest chapter yet at 24.6k words. the google doc is 54 pages long. be aware of this fact when reading.

15:90 – TREVOR

“You’re burning, Trevor.”

Trevor startles, flinching and ripping the shirt away from his face. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the sun. His shirt falls to his lap and his hands instinctively come to his chest to cover his nipples– years of being woken up on the boat by the Hughes boys and Cole. 

Honey laughs with her head thrown back at his reaction, her hands finding his and pulling them down. She brings them around her body, letting go of his arms when they pass her waist. 

Trevor was too taken by Honey’s face, lit up by the sun and shining in front of him to notice anything else, at least not for a second. When his hands drop to his sides, knuckles grazing Honey’s calves on the way down, he registers where they are and where she’s sitting.

Her knees bracket his thighs, straddling his lap. Her hands are already reaching for his again, a fond smile and the roll of her eyes stunning Trevor. She brings his palms to her hips, then slides one further, down to the curve of her ass. She closes her fingers around his palm, forcing him to grab her cheek and squeeze. She bites her lip and grins down at him as she does it and Trevor twitches in his boardshorts.

His mouth drops open and Honey giggles, her nose crinkling like a little rabbit. Oh God, Trevor thinks. She’s so cute that I compared her to a woodland creature.

“I told you that you needed to grab the sunscreen, but you were too excited to fuck me on the boat to listen to me?” Honey asks. She licks her lips and smiles down at Trevor. One of her hands comes up to twist through Trevor’s hair. She pouts, mocking him. “And now I’m going to have to rub aloe on your chest because you’re a big fucking baby.”

Trevor blinks in shock. There’s no fucking way.

“Do you like making me do all the work, Trevor?” Honey asks. No, accuses. 

“I drove you out here,” Trevor stammers out, frozen underneath the girl. He doesn’t remember doing that, but he’s probably still groggy from the sudden burst of light when his shirt fell off his face. He shakes his head, blinking a few times to orient himself. 

He squeezes Honey’s bottom again, his fingers digging into her skin to ensure she’s really there. That she’s really letting him do this. 

She seems to know his motivations immediately as he does it. She presses into his touch, her eyes flashing with a playfulness he’s never seen before. She rolls her hips down towards his, brushing against the tent in his shorts. She’s smug, confident in her movements, and it’s like everything is in slow-motion, that it’s sensual and electric. 

She leans in, her lips nearing Trevor’s. She tilts her head, ready to slot their lips together. She hovers, stopping when Trevor’s lips parted in a silent gasp. He pulled back only a millimeter in surprise, and she noticed. 

Honey pushes away from Trevor’s chest, sitting back on his lap. He groans and pitches forward as her weight settles against his aching cock. His lips follow hers and she laughs him off, turning her cheek.

“Maybe I shouldn’t let you fuck me,” Honey teases. “Since you’re so bad at listening to instructions.”

“Honey,” Trevor whines, his other hand dropping to her ass and pulling her forward, rocking her hips against his bulge. The fabric of her swimsuit barely grazes him, with Honey resisting Trevor’s movements. 

“Are you begging me?”Her voice is high-pitched. Her fingers dance over Trevor’s clavicles, where she licked the whipped cream from his body the night before. 

Trevor stares at her mouth, the plush, pink lips that are intimately close to his. Suddenly, it’s like he’s watching himself, pulling away from his body to view the scene from afar.

It gets darker, and darker, and farther and farther away, and Trevor nearly jumps out of his skin when he realizes that he was dreaming. He wants to shove his pillow over his face and scream into it. 

He’s been having this dream every night since Honey talked to him on the boat. He thought the whipped cream dream was bad, where she pushed her hands into his waistband and reached for him. As soon as she made contact, just as her fingers curled around his weeping cock, he’d jolt awake like he’d been punched.

But having Honey on top of him, teasing him in her devoted way… it’s tearing Trevor apart. Every time he wakes up, he’s practically bursting at the seams.

He hasn’t gotten much sleep these past few days. He thinks the lack of sleep might be making him hallucinate. And the nerves are making him dream about it more, desperate for relief.

And the boys haven’t left him alone. It’s like they’re taking shifts throughout the night– someone is up in the kitchen at 3am, someone wakes up early to work out, someone stays up late playing pool against himself, and someone skating in the rink  after midnight and shooting pucks at his window. 

Someone is always awake and Trevor thinks they’re doing it on purpose. They’re taking shifts, Trevor knows it, but he just hasn’t caught them. He’s paranoid.

He hasn’t been able to jack off. 

They’re listening. He knows they are. They want to bully him some more, cut into him like they did after he pussied out on the boat on Saturday. Quinn is particularly relentless, ragging on Trevor to no end. He can’t make it worse.

But today– today– everyone’s out. Miraculously, Trevor is alone.

Cole is down at the hardware store, helping Vera with a shipment while Earl is out fishing. Luke and Jack went out to buy a water tube for the next lake day. Quinn is at Bea’s– it’s their day off. Bea and Honey don’t have work on Mondays, so Bea invited Trevor’s greatest enemy over. 

Trevor could sing.

He’s gotten past the point of guilt, past the point of pushing his desire away. Trevor just wants to come.

He reaches under the covers and pushes his boxers down with one hand, reaching down to stroke himself with the other. It’s quick and desperate and Trevor stumbles over himself a little bit, his head dropping back against his pillow.

Trevor pictures Honey grinding down against him, her pussy dripping all over him. He spits on his hand, slicking it up to make the glide easier. He groans, throat tight. He imagines her hands pressing against his chest, fingernails digging into his pecs. His fist flies over the length of his cock, squeezing precum from the tip. 

Trevor’s balls are tight and heavy and he pictures Honey reaching down to fondle the skin. He chokes out a whimper as he starts to spill over his hand, his hips twitching up like he’s trying to fuck into Honey’s imaginary and distant heat. 

Trevor slows, then withdraws his hand from his boxers. He takes a few deep breaths, then swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He stands and walks into the bathroom, tossing his boxers in the hamper before wiping himself down and washing his hands. 

He turns on the shower and keeps it cold, shaking away the guilt that comes crashing back. He shudders under the water, making it the quickest shower of his life. Trevor shakes his hair out as he exits the shower, wrapping his towel around his wait.

Someone pounds at the front door and Trevor scoffs in disbelief. He makes his way down the stairs, running his fingers through his hair so it stops drooping in his face. He bets it’s Cole, who likely forgot to grab the house keys when he went out to help Vera. 

Trevor swings the door open and a brown bag hits his chest.

“You motherfucker,” Honey snarls, pushing Trevor back into the house and slamming the door behind her. “What’s your problem, huh?” She pokes a finger in Trevor’s chest. “You flirt with me for two weeks and then you ignore me? After I licked your fucking body? What’s your problem, Zegras?”

“Honey?” Trevor asks, incredulous. He stumbles back into the wall, knocking into the corner of a table and wincing. 

“It was just a dare, you don’t have to act like I have the fucking plague,” Honey continues, her voice hard. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Why weren’t you at the fruit stand?”

Trevor flinches back. “Why weren’t I at the… what?”

“I cannot believe you don’t want to flirt with me after all of that shit you said.” Honey stomps her foot and turns on her heel, slamming the front door behind her.

Trevor is left with his back against the wall, droplets of water falling onto his shoulders and moistening the paper bag in his arms. He looks down into the back and finds raspberries, flour, sugar, eggs, all of the fixings for raspberry tarts. The recipe Honey wrote out is laid to the side of the ingredients, tucked into the folds of the bag.

He’s still in the same position when Cole does come home, and only snaps out of it when the boy pretends to box against his stomach. In retaliation, Trevor drops the groceries on his toes. The boy wore flip flops to the hardware store to carry in shipment. 

He’s far away for the rest of the night, flickering between Honey’s rage when she entered the house for reasons he doesn’t know and the arousal he feels from seeing her right after he had come thinking of her. 

He eventually decides to go see Honey as soon as The Reading Nook opens tomorrow. He doesn’t get it. She hates him, then she’s mad at him for not flirting with her? And not going to the fruit stand? Is he supposed to bake these tarts to win her over?

He does just in case, and Jack laughs at him the whole time.

16:90 – HONEY

Honey is still fuming from the moment she wakes up. She practically throws herself out of bed when her first alarm rings, then speeds to work when she’s finished getting ready for the day. Her knuckles are white against the steering wheel and she thinks she’s mumbling to herself, but she can’t be sure.

She’s not even mad at Trevor, is the thing. She took it out on him last night and he definitely didn’t deserve the yells and the borderline assault from when she threw her grocery bag against his chest, but she’s not mad at him.

No, Honey is furious at herself. 

How she managed to convince herself that Trevor would show up at the fruit stand last night and everything would be like normal, Honey doesn’t know. She should’ve workshopped it with Bea, to be fair, but Bea was busy.

Busy with Quinn, because everything is easy for them.

A fresh round of grumbling falls from Honey’s mouth, a scowl marring her face.

Somehow, Trevor might be the only person that Honey is not mad at right now.

When she got home last night, she had gone over every interaction she and Trevor have had. She wrote down every fact of the matter: he approached her first. he sought her out at the bookstore. he made her carry his beer, and hand it to him, and admitted that he did it on purpose. he bought strawberries for her so that they could bake pastries together. he had pushed Jack up against the wall when he went upstairs with Honey, alone, just for going upstairs with her?

That one was less than a fact, but Bea swears it’s true. 

And the other less-than-facts: that Trevor had seemed just as affected by the whipped cream dare as Honey was.

She’s doubting that more and more with every interaction.

Then, after making her list, Honey had driven over to Bea’s and knocked on the door until Quinn answered it in his boxers, disgruntled and messy like he’d just rolled out of bed. He had, and Honey wasn’t ashamed that she had interrupted them. Good, even– they needed something to come between them. She even locked him out of the bedroom, but Bea allowed him back in after a few minutes.

Quinn had thrown his shirt and pants back on and glared at Honey, sitting on the other side of the room while Honey paced and ranted. Eventually, Bea waved him over and he settled between her legs, laying so his head rested against her stomach. 

Bea had started to pet her fingers through Quinn’s hair, but she stopped when Honey let out a series of insults and swears at the sight. Oh, and things had only gotten worse when Quinn asked Honey what her “fucking problem” was. He had laughed when Bea shushed him and explained that it was about Trevor, which is when they kicked him out for the night.

He slept on the couch until Honey left. Bea definitely rewarded him for his patience afterward. Honey wishes she didn’t know her friend so well.

But now Honey is at The Reading Nook, and it’s a new day. She sweeps the store, even though she swept it on Friday night. She dusts the windowsills, restocks some books, and unlocks the door when Scarlett knocks, knitting in hand.

The woman shuffles past Honey with a hug and a smile and takes her normal seat at the table. They make small talk for a few minutes and Scarlett shows Honey her project– a blue cardigan for her daughter, whose birthday is coming up.

Fuck, so is Bea’s. Honey has to buy her a present.

She’s about to ask Scarlett for her knitting pattern when the door to The Reading Nook swings open and slams against the doorstop.

“I need to talk to you.” Trevor stomps toward Honey, shoving a tupperware into her hands. The door swings shut again behind him, rattling in its frame. 

It’s a mirror image of what happened the night before and Honey abruptly understands the shock that overtook Trevor’s face. It’s the exact expression on her face, and when she looks over, it’s the expression on Scarlett’s face, too.

“I’m at work,” Honey replies, eyes wide. 

“Then I’ll wait for you until you’re done,” Trevor says. He’s staring into Honey’s eyes, overenunciating his words. His jaw clenches, green irises hard and determined. He finds a chair at Scarlett’s table and sits, the tight smile on his face reaching only the edges of his lips. It makes Honey uneasy.

“You don’t have to do that.” Honey plasters the same tight smile on her face and blinks at Trevor. Please, God, don’t do that.

“That’s alright, he can join us,” Scarlett coos, patting a hand against Trevor’s arm. “Hello, darling, I’m Scarlett.”

Trevor quirks his eyebrows at Honey in an ‘I-told-you-so’ sort of motion, then smiles charmingly and introduces himself to Scarlett. He dotes on her cardigan for a moment and she reaches into her bag, finding another set of knitting needles and a skein of yarn for Trevor. Scarlett starts to teach him how to cast-on stitches, and Honey watches on in something akin to horror.

He’s really planning on staying here until I’m ready to talk.

She looks down at the tupperware she’s cradling, the translucent lid revealing a neat pile of pastries. Honey’s mouth drops open and she looks between Trevor and her hands, then to the door. The bell above the door jingles as Sacha and Vera walk in, and Honey watches Vera’s face light up.

“Oh, Bear!” Vera chirps, extending her arms to Trevor.

Trevor lights up and stands, leaving his knitting in a knot on the table to hug the small woman. He kisses her cheek, then pulls out the chair next to him and helps her down. He then extends his hand to Sacha, introducing himself.

“You know, Trevor, Sweetie helped me with my shipment yesterday,” Vera continues, her gaze pointed and disappointed. “Why didn’t you come and help me, too?”

“I…” Trevor trails off, his gaze finding Honey and then snapping back to Vera. “Was busy.”

“Well, in the future, you ought to know that some people might find it rude to not help an old lady,” Vera pouts, digging for her own knitting project.

Trevor chuckles and replies, “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll give my number to Earl next time I come by the hardware store. Your Sweetie will probably break something at the house and he’ll make me fix it.” He finishes his statement with a little wink. 

Honey breathes out a surprised little laugh, involuntary like it was pulled from her throat on a fishing wire. It’s quiet, quiet enough that Honey is the only one who notices, and when she does… she bolts.

She flees to the back room, tossing the tupperware of pastries onto the table with a clatter. She pushes her hair away from her face and takes a deep breath, staring at the ground. A real laugh escapes her this time. Honey feels hysterical.

Trevor is at her place of work. He’s sitting with the founding ladies of Litchton and they’re teaching him how to knit. He has a nickname from Vera and he is going to leave his number at the hardware store for Earl. 

Earl, the grumpiest, most traditional man in Litchton. The man who hasn’t updated his store in forty years because he likes things the way they are is accepting an outsider. Trevor managed to win over Earl.

Honey can’t believe it. She gave them a week, and they’re still here, three weeks into the summer. 

It is pure torture– at first because Trevor was flirting with her even though she didn’t want it, but now because Trevor cannot seem to make up his mind, and she does want it. Honey is confused. Beyond confused, because what the fuck is he doing here and why is her heart beating so fucking fast?

Someone knocks on the doorframe and Honey whirls around. 

Trevor seems smaller here, shoulders hunched. A grimace is half-formed on his face and when he opens his mouth, Honey can’t bear it.

“Don’t,” Honey says. “Please.”

“Honey.” Trevor breathes out, tilting his head, then shaking it from left to right. “I don’t know what you want from me.” He brings his hands up like he’s holding a tray, palms out.

Honey sputters, looking everywhere but at the boy. “I– I want you to leave,” she says, stumbling over her words. “I want you to… to not show up at my work and- and mingle with my customers just for a chance to talk to me.”

Trevor winces and rubs the back of his head, sheepish.

Honey continues before he can say a word. “You had chances to talk to me and you took those,” Honey explains, speaking with her hands. She places her index finger in the center of her outstretched palm and raises an eyebrow at Trevor. “Didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Trevor responds, like it’s obvious. 

Honey motions for him to zip-it when he goes to speak again. She brings her middle finger to the palm of her hand as well, counting off while poking her own hand. “And not only did you reassure me when I put whipped cream on your nipples–” Honey’s voice breaks with disbelief, a laugh that is bubbling up due to the bewilderment of the situation. “– but you also got a little hard when I licked it off of you.”

Trevor’s jaw drops and he flushes. He nods once, shakily, slamming his mouth shut and biting the inside of his lower lip.

“And then, you don’t talk to me and you don’t show up when you’re supposed to,” Honey finishes, grinding her teeth. Her tone is cool and calm, glaring daggers in his direction. “You don’t know what I want from you? How about this: I don’t know what you want from me, Trevor!” 

Trevor fishmouths, shrugging with one shoulder. 

Honey waits, prompting him with a wave of her hand.

“I just need to talk to you,” Trevor relents, his voice low. Honey is shocked by the torment that washes over his features. “I need to understand what you want.”

“I just told you what I want,” Honey says, sass dripping from her words despite the shake of her voice.

Trevor holds a hand up and takes a breath. “I need to understand if you want me to keep flirting with you or if you want me to stop,” he corrects. “Because I don’t get you.”

“You don’t get me,” Honey repeats.

“You act like you’re not interested and you couldn’t care less, then you tuck your little fingers in my waistband and run your tongue all over my body,” Trevor exclaims. “That’s confusing!”

“More confusing than constantly seeking me out, then dropping me in an instant?” 

“It’s not a competition,” Trevor hisses. He pauses and his eyes dart around the room, before finally returning to Honey. He shrugs and his voice goes from biting to embarrassed, a shy admittance. “I baked for you… twice.”

He pouts a little bit and Honey almost collapses into one of the chairs at the table. He’s precious. He’s just a boy. 

She catches herself and presses a hand over her eyes. “Oh my God,” she laughs. “I can’t do this.”

“What?” Trevor asks, alarm ringing in his eyes. He repeats it, searching Honey’s face. “Can’t do what?”

Honey gestures between them. “This,” she says. “I don’t want something… confusing and hard and– and annoying.” 

It’s a weak insult and Trevor is unimpressed. Honey can tell from his look.

“If I’m going to do… this,” Honey pauses for emphasis, waving her fingers in a circle, trying to grasp something that isn’t there. The wave turns into a rapid brush shooing Trevor away when he steps forward, words on the tip of his tongue. “It can’t be hard, Trevor.”

“Well, I’m gonna be hard,” Trevor mumbles, shrugging.

“Are you trying to kid around with me right now?” Honey asks, incredulous. She feels suddenly calm, suddenly murderous at the idea that Trevor can laugh and think to joke in this very serious moment. “Was that a joke?”

Trevor seals his lips shut and clasps his hands in front of him. 

“Good choice,” Honey praises sarcastically. She grinds her teeth before speaking again. “You could not be more wrong for me, Trevor. That’s what I’ve decided.” Her voice shakes. “I want you to leave.”

“I don’t think you do,” Trevor erupts, his eyes flooded with doubt. “You wanted something that night and it scared you and I don’t think that it has anything to do with me.”

Honey stands tall. “You’re wrong,” she lies.

Trevor steps forward.

Honey steps back.

Trevor’s voice is nearly a whisper now, as sincere and genuine as Honey has ever heard it. He’s unblinking as he takes another step forward and says, “I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. It scares me, too.”

Honey clears her throat and looks away. “I’m not scared.”

Trevor hums, disapproving. 

There’s not much more room behind Honey. She can’t back any farther away from him, and he’s blocking the exit.

“Trevor,” Honey warns.

He comes to a stop right in front of her. He taps his foot, staring at Honey. “Do you want me to stop flirting with you?”

“Yes,” Honey declares, pinching her lips together. She looks past Trevor to the door, unable to find his eyes and see what they hold.

Trevor huffs out a little laugh and brings a knuckle to Honey’s chin, the contact electrifying.

She’s forced to look up into his eyes. She suffers at the sight of the quirk of his lips. 

“Do you want me to stop flirting with you?” Trevor repeats.

Honey finds herself pausing, hesitating. She more so sees his lips move than hears the words leave his mouth. She blinks.

“Yes.” Honey’s breath catches in her throat, but she holds her chin up in defiance, away from his hand.

It drops to his side. Trevor hums again, lighter this time, almost inquisitive. Pondering.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I don’t believe you.”

He turns and leaves the room, leaves Honey shaking with her back pressed against the counter. 

When she gets it together and returns to the main store, ready to wait for Bea by the door, Honey finds Trevor seated with the knitters. His eyes meet hers and he offers her a little smirk.

Honey returns to the back room. When Bea finds her an hour later, Honey stutters out a goodbye and a worthless explanation before shoving past her best friend and running out of The Reading Nook. She doesn’t dare take another look behind her.

17:90 – TREVOR

The puck hits the boards with an angry clatter. Trevor misses another shot, just going wide. He curses to himself, watching it fly awry from the second the puck leaves his stick.

Quinn pushes into him, hip checking Trevor and causing him to stumble. He doesn’t go flying, but Quinn does manage to make him fall, and he laughs at Trevor as he skates away. 

Trevor curses again, pounding his fist against the ice. He’s been off for weeks and it’s not getting better. He can’t blame it on his injury, since that healed before the season even ended. He can’t blame it on the other guys, because he’s been playing with them almost seamlessly for years. He can’t blame anything but the truth– that he’s distracted because of Honey. 

He likes her too much. He hasn’t been able to get her off his mind since their conversation yesterday, or maybe the day before that when he got off to the thought of her… or maybe last week when he felt so consumed by the tension between them that he almost exploded on the spot. Well, maybe since the first day that he bumped into her at the fruit stand and decided to go back to introduce himself.

Yeah. He’s distracted because he hasn’t stopped thinking about Honey since the moment he met her. 

Seeing her gaze grow dreamy when she looked down at his lips… Trevor was sold. It was an unconscious reaction, so unconscious that he doesn’t even think it registered in her mind. He read through the lie as soon as it left Honey’s mouth the first time, but the tiny poke of her tongue licking her lips before she spoke the second time cemented its falsity in stone. He snapped.

“Fuck you, Quinn,” Trevor shouts, picking himself up but leaving his stick and gloves behind. He lifts his helmet and places it on the ground.

Quinn spins around and skates backwards, shedding his own gear quickly. He loops around behind Trevor, but Trevor turns around to face him. 

“Stop.” Luke skates between them and puts his hands out in front of Trevor, pushing his chest back. He feels behind him for Quinn, fisting his jersey when he catches him. He’s looking between the two boys wildly, trying to capture their eyes. “What’s going on?”

Trevor catches Luke’s gaze for a millisecond and Luke leans in, studying him. He pulls back, and comes to a sharp stop. 

“Oh my God,” Luke breathes, pushing Quinn back into the boards. He drops his hand and faces Trevor, squishing Quinn. He raises his voice. “Trevor fucked Bea!”

“What?” Trevor exclaims, stepping back in surprise. “No, I didn’t!”

Cole skates up and grabs Trevor’s arm, stopping behind him. “You did what?”

“You did what?” Quinn demands at the same time, reaching for Trevor and nearly catching his hair. He’s turned murderous, lunging farther around Luke than before.

Jack approaches leisurely, but turns to crash into Quinn back-first. He creates further space between the boys, back to back with Luke. He stops Quinn, forcing him to skate backwards. “No shit,” Jack bites back with a smile. He’s laughing a little bit. “So that’s why you’ve been ragging on Trevor so much. He fucked your girl.”

“Don’t fucking talk about Bea,” Quinn argues. 

Jack rolls his eyes and knocks Quinn’s helmet back, covering his face with his red glove. “Dude. She told you that she’s sleeping with everyone.”

Quinn pulls back. “How do you know that?” He asks, stunned. 

“She told me,” Jack replies, tsking at the boy. He scoffs. “Quinn, she told you,” he says again.

“She’s sleeping with everyone?” Cole interjects, and he sounds just as clueless as Trevor feels. 

“When did Bea have the time to tell you that she’s sleeping with everyone?” Quinn asks, his focus only on Jack now.

The brothers stare at each other. Quinn searches Jack’s face for information and his own face grows stony. 

“Bea and I talk,” Jack says coyly, then his expression loses its cockiness when Quinn’s fists enclose on the collar of his jersey.

“This isn’t about Bea.” Trevor shakes his head, wanting to escape the scruffle. Cole holds onto him for a second longer before he slips away. “Quinn just needs to stop messing with me.”

Quinn smirks at Trevor for a split second before turning his attention back to his younger brother. 

Trevor loses his head at the sight of that and speeds off the ice, not bothering to shower before leaving the locker room. He takes off in the car, leaving the guys and the gear behind.

He drives to the rental house in a frenzy, stopping in the driveway and taking a breath. It feels like the first one he’s sucked in since getting behind the wheel. 

He reaches into his phone and dials a number, knowing it by heart. He raises a shaky hand to his ear, counting the rings. 

Jamie picks up on the fourth. “Hey, buddy. What’s going on?”

“I need you to fly out to Litchton, North Carolina right now.”

Jamie coughs, a question stuttering his breaths. “Where?”

Trevor shakes his head. Duh, he didn’t tell Jamie where he was. He’s not going to see him until the season. Jamie’s in Philly now. “Fly to Winston-Salem,” he explains. It’s the closest airport to Litchton, he’s learned. Earl told him the other day. 

“Again, where?” Jamie repeats. 

Trevor rolls his eyes. He thinks. “Fine, fly into Charlotte. I’ll drive down and get you tomorrow.”

Jamie is silent on the other end. 

“Please, Jim, I need an ally,” Trevor begs. “The guys are killing me here.”

Jamie speaks after another moment of hesitation. “Okay. What time do you want me to come down?”

“Early,” Trevor says. “As early as you can.”

“Z, that’s not realistic,” Jamie tells him and Trevor can practically hear the roll of his eyes through the phone. “I have to pack and shit, and I have practice in the morning.”

“I will pay for your flight,” Trevor announces, cutting him off. “I don’t care. You can have the most expensive, bougiest flight and I will pay for it as long as you get here as fast as you can.”

Jamie sighs, taking in a deep breath. “Fine, Trev. Find me a flight and I’ll be on the way.”

“I’ll text you,” Trevor says as a goodbye and hangs up. 

He’s still sitting in the driveway of the rental house, but he thinks he’s got time before the other boys make it home. The usual setup for practices on the ice was that Trevor drove to Charlotte alone with the gear and Quinn drove all of the other boys in the car, but now Quinn has to figure out some way to pack the gear in the vehicle and still have room for the boys. With Luke’s lanky legs, he doesn’t stand a chance.

Trevor can’t believe that Luke assumed he hooked up with Bea. Isn’t it obvious that he couldn’t care less about the girl? Sure, he has her phone number, but he only got that when he was trying to get insider knowledge about Honey. 

He thought the boys knew that he wanted Honey, with how often they’ve been teasing him. Now that he thinks about it, the only one who’s been messing with him more often is Quinn. Even the shifts they seemed to be taking could just be coincidence.

Trevor suddenly realizes that he had too much faith in his friends. They’re not doing anything on purpose. They’re all idiots who think with their dicks.

So is he, most of the time, but that’s neither here nor there. He wasn’t thinking with his dick when he went to The Reading Nook yesterday. How could he have been– he told Honey exactly how he felt. He could’ve made a pass at her, could’ve just flirted with her until she was taken by his charm, but no. Trevor took a risk and for the first time in his life, told a girl just how badly he wants her. He told her how badly it scares him.

Honey had rejected the notion, but she couldn’t have been clearer about what she really wanted. She wouldn’t even look at him at first, trying to stay strong, but when Trevor tilted her chin up and she met him halfway, it all clicked.

Honey had been trying to run away from her feelings for a long time. When they showed up right in front of her– no, when Trevor appeared right in front of her, she felt that same indescribable pull that Trevor felt for her. 

They’re drawn together and while Trevor has accepted it, Honey is still fighting it. 

He’s going to keep flirting with her. He’s going to make it happen. Honey wants him, he knows that she does. He really hopes that she does.

Trevor searches for a plane ticket and buys the first one he sees– a flight that arrives in Charlotte around midday tomorrow. Jamie will just have to get to the airport by 9:30 if he wants to board on time. Maybe he can leave practice early. 

He purchases a window seat for the boy, a first class ticket to make up for the short notice and to properly portray his desperation. He sends the ticket to Jamie and the boy responds with a simple thumbs-up. 

The least Jamie could do is give Trevor a better thank you for the $400 ticket than a thumbs up, but Trevor decides he’s not going to press the issue. Jamie is doing him a favor, coming up and hanging with him for a few days. It will be good. It’ll be fun.

Trevor finally enters the house and showers, planning to hole himself up in his room for the rest of the day.

Mid-evening, Jack knocks on his door.

“Z, I got you dinner,” Jack calls. “Let me in.”

“It’s unlocked,” Trevor replies, scrolling on his phone in his bed. 

Jack cracks the door open, slipping inside. He’s got a plate in one hand and he closes the door quietly behind him. He hands the plate off to Trevor, who sat up to greet him, and then flops on the bed and pulls out his own phone.

Trevor takes in the meal– a home cooked steak, potatoes, and asparagus meal that Quinn likely whipped up when they got back.

“How’d you get back from Charlotte?” Trevor asks, spearing the asparagus and bringing it to his mouth. 

“Quinn rented a U-Haul,” Jack replies. “The little one. He attached it to the tailgate and threw all the gear in there. He also wanted me to ride in there, but Luke managed to convince him that I’d die due to the fumes. He said it was like a gas chamber and that Mom and Dad would be mad if Quinn killed me.”

Jack shrugs as if he didn’t just say one of the weirdest sentences Trevor has ever heard. It’s par for the course with the Hughes boys– these weird stories. They’re close, but they butt heads all the time, and they always need to think of new and creative ways to get under each others’ skin. Jack seems to have found something that makes Quinn furious.

“What did you do to Quinn to make him so mad?” 

“Same thing you did,” Jack scoffs. “I made a move on Bea.”

Trevor chokes on a potato, taken aback. “I didn’t make a move on Bea,” he denies. “When the fuck did you make a move on Bea?”

“At the lake, dude.” Jack pats Trevor on the back as he coughs. “Did you really not notice?”

“No,” Trevor replies.

“Huh.” Jack frowns. “I guess that makes sense. It was when you were driving and Quinn was surfing. I asked her what was going on between her and Quinn, and she said they were just hooking up and it wasn’t a ‘super serious, committed thing.’” Jack uses air-quotes, raising his voice to mimic Bea’s. He drops his hands. “And I thought that was it, but then Honey jumped in and told me that Bea wanted to have a ‘Slut Summer’ and we were all her victims.”

Trevor makes a face. “What?” He’s more surprised that Honey called Bea a slut with the girl right next to her than the fact that Bea wants to hook up with everyone in the house. 

No, thanks. Trevor is not interested in hooking up with Bea. 

She’s too loud, too comfortable with them. She’s not a challenge. Trevor wants a challenge– the challenge that Honey is giving him– because the reward will be so much sweeter. Trevor already feels a warmth in his chest at the mere idea of Honey cuddling up to him on the couch in front of the other guys– he can’t imagine how he’ll feel when it actually happens. He’ll probably have a nice tent in his pants from just her head on his shoulder, or her fingers intertwining with his own.

God, he feels like a virgin with their first girlfriend. Everything is new and exciting and each touch, no matter how innocent, makes him think of how great their chemistry will be in bed.

Oh my God, shut up, Trevor thinks to himself, adjusting his position so that Jack doesn’t notice his arousal. It’s barely a semi. It’s fine. Just stop thinking about Honey.

“Yeah, she wants to hook up with everyone in the house,” Jack continues. “She said that dating in Litchton sucks and when a bunch of eligible bachelors showed up, she knew it was her chance to have a really fun summer.”

“So you hooked up?”

“No, not yet. Next time we hang out, I think. I told her that my bed’s always open, that it’s bigger than Quinn’s, and that I have my own room. Did you know they’ve been kicking Luke out every time she sleeps over?” Jack asks, bouncing to face Trevor like it’s the juiciest piece of gossip in the world. “He’s been sleeping in the bunk beds in that spare room. I think he’s a top bunker, too, even though he’s the only one in there.”

“Well, he’ll be sharing with Jamie if Quinn kicks him out this week,” Trevor acknowledges, rolling his eyes. He forks a piece of steak and brings it to his mouth.

“Drysdale is coming?” Jack asks, sounding surprised. His upper lip curls briefly. “Why?”

Trevor glares at Jack from his peripheral. “Dude, fuck off. I don’t get why you don’t like him.”

“He’s so shy,” Jack complains. “He’s worse than Luke.”

“He’s not that shy, you’re just a dick to him because he’s quiet,” Trevor argues. “Plus, you’re being a dick to everyone lately and I need an ally.”

“Yeah, ally is right, because you’re fucking gay for each other,” Jack laughs, chirping. He raises his palms in surrender, standing and backing away from Trevor towards the door. He’s still got a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Happy pride month and all, Trev. I’m just saying that Bea’s going to be very disappointed that two of her potential hookups are off the market ‘cause they’re in love with each other.”

“Dude,” Trevor scoffs, pissed off. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

Jack laughs and slips out of the room. As soon as he closes the door, Trevor hears him shout: “Trevor’s boyfriend is coming to visit! Everyone dig out your best clothes! It’s a special occasion!”

Not for the first time this summer, Trevor considers wringing Jack’s neck. He’ll be surprised if he makes it to preseason without killing Jack and burying him in bumfuck, Litchton, North Carolina. They’ll never find his body.

18:90 – HONEY

“Honey, come look at this book,” Bea calls from within the stacks. She’s in charge of their newest shipment of books and she’s been complaining all day about how they should just organize the stacks based on “how recently they got the damn thing,” so Honey is itching to hear something from Bea that isn’t a complaint. 

She hops down from her stool behind the cash register and follows Bea’s voice, toward the ‘K-L’ stacks.

“What’s up?” Honey asks, rounding the corner.

Bea holds up a deep blue paperback book, its cover illustrated with holographic and shimmering lines that reveal a few images: twins, a centaur shooting a bow and arrow, a scorpion, a jar pouring out water. She shakes it and the images twinkle at Honey.

“That’s gorgeous,” Honey says, reaching out to take the book. 

Bea snatches it back. “Aht,” she corrects, smacking Honey’s hand with the cover. “Not for you.” She takes a circular orange sticker and applies it to the spine, marking the book as Non-Fiction.

Honey makes a face. “Then why did you call me over here?”

“I just thought it was pretty,” Bea explains, her voice pitching upward. She shrugs one of her shoulders and shakes her head, her eyes widening then returning to normal size. 

Honey knows all of Bea’s tells by now.

“What else?” Honey sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. Bea can never hide when she’s up to trouble. 

Bea shelves the book, standing up on her tippy-toes to do so. She brushes her hands against each other when she finishes, turning to face Honey.

“I was talking to someone last night and he’s looking for a book,” Bea introduces, her voice slow. She tilts her head down with an eyebrow raised and Honey steps back, unimpressed. She sets her jaw.

“And I’m a little busy tonight, so I can’t bring the book over myself.” Bea pulls her lips back in a wary smile. “But I told him that you could bring it over instead.”

Honey doesn’t react. She’s reminded of Edward Tronick’s still-face experiment and hopes that Bea will become just as uncomfortable as those babies did when their mothers didn’t react to their behavior.

Bea is unperturbed.

“Anyway, I thought that would be the perfect book for him. Can you bring it over after we close?”

“Why can’t you?” Honey asks, voice devoid of any emotion. “What’s your big plan?”

“Well, Quinn is concerned that I slept with Trevor.” Bea clasps her hands together like a cheerleader. “And I didn’t, nor do I have any interest in doing so… so I’m making Quinn dinner.”

“Are you dating yet?” Honey asks, meaning for her insult to come out as less of an actual question, but she fails.

Bea shakes her head, her ponytail flopping around behind her. “Mm-mm. We’re having fun. I actually have to tell him that I’m going to take his brother out for a ride this weekend.” 

“Why the sudden switch-up?” Honey asks, grabbing another new book from Bea’s stack and marking it with a yellow sticker– YA Fiction. 

“No reason, I’ve just been spending a lot of time with Quinn and I need to make moves,” Bea expresses, taking the book from Honey and shelving it. They do the same thing with the next book, and the next, working in tandem. “I have to fuck all the guys and we’re, like, a fifth of the way through the summer and I’ve only fucked one. It’s time to move along.”

“But you like Quinn,” Honey argues, not understanding. “If you like him, why not just stick with him?”

“Of course I like Quinn, he’s perfect,” Bea replies. “But I made a goal for the summer and I revealed it to him and Jack. It’s out now. I don’t expect Jack to keep his mouth shut. I’d look like a chump if I only fucked Quinn after setting my sights so high.”

“Maybe Quinn would just look like a really good lay,” Honey says. 

“Ugh, and he is,” Bea sighs dreamily, like she’s reminiscing. She presses a hand over her heart and smiles, then pats her chest to bring her out of her thoughts. “Which is why I’m cooking him dinner tonight.”

Honey rolls her eyes and shakes her head. 

Bea smiles, smug and sweet, then picks up her box of books. She only has about twenty more to shelve, but they’re all in different rows. “So?” She prompts.

“So, what?”

“Can you take that book to Trevor?” Bea looks at Honey expectantly. 

“I can.” Honey puts emphasis on the word like a teacher trying to correct her students’ grammar. “I don’t want to, but technically, I am able to.”

“Good!” Bea exclaims. “That’s a relief. I was worried I’d have to send it back with Quinn.” She starts to walk off, briskly.

“Wait a second, why don’t you send it back with Quinn?” Honey demands, stomping after Bea.

“He’s very angry with Trevor at the moment,” Bea says lightly, choosing her words carefully. “There’s a chance he’ll hurl the book at Trevor’s head and then burn it while Trevor watches.” She reaches up and itches the tip of her nose. After another pause, she speaks. “They’re at a point of contention right now.”

Honey stares at Bea, perplexed and disbelieving. She blinks slowly, taking in the words. “I didn’t realize we were going to have the most dramatic summer of our lives when they drove into town.”

Bea clicks her tongue, nodding with pursed lips. “They’re very dramatic.”

The girls stand in silence for a moment longer and Bea presses her lips together awkwardly. 

“Well, thanks for bringing the book over.” She winks at Honey. “I think it’ll be nice. It’s by Kerod, by the way.”

Honey shakes her head and fixes Bea with a glare, retreating to the stack to find the book with the gorgeous cover. Bea giggles a little as she walks away and Honey resents her for it.

She hasn’t told Bea about what went down on Tuesday, but the memory pops into her mind and brings a furious red blush with it at least four times a day. She has been avoiding the back room like it’s the origin point of the apocalypse, just because she can’t stand how easily Trevor saw through her. She ran away then, and she still wants to run away now. If she’s lucky, Jack will answer the door and she can hand him the book and stalk away. Trevor will be none the wiser.

Honey traces her finger over the blue spine, feeling the silver lines swirl underneath her fingers. She pulls the book out and reads the title: ‘Tales of the Night Sky: Revealing the Mythologies and Folklore Behind Constellations.’

Oh, hell, Trevor’s going to love it.

Honey dreads seeing him. but she can’t imagine allowing anyone else to see the grand smile that’s going to overtake his face at the sight of the book. He’s going to be so excited and Honey doesn’t want Bea to be the one to receive that smile. No, it’s hers. She’s the only one who can make Trevor smile like that.

What? No, she’s not.

Honey cringes at the thought, shivering in disgust at her own imagination. She meant what she said the other day: Trevor couldn’t be more wrong for her.

He’s a West Coast boy, even if he’s from New York originally. He’s a traveler, an athlete. He’s got an attitude like he’s hot shit and he knows it, and even if she’s seen softer moments from him, she knows in her gut that he’s the kind to ditch a girl after getting in her pants. 

So what if he matches her wit? So what if he is blatantly obvious about his flirting? So what if he says he’s never wanted anyone as much as he wants Honey?

He could be lying. He’s a boy in his twenties. He’s just thinking with his dick, looking to say anything right to get Honey into his bed. She’s not going to fall for it, even if he’s pretty and passionate about the things that he likes. He even cares deeply for his friends, especially when they annoy him. 

Honey runs her fingers over the illustration of the fish on the cover. She bites the inside of her cheek, then slaps the back cover of the book against her other hand in a satisfying clap. She returns to the counter and picks up her own book, removing her bookmark and assuming her post. 

There’s about an hour until The Reading Nook officially closes. Bea starts on their chores as soon as she finishes stocking the new books, leaving Honey to man the entire store in case someone walks in. They won’t, because they never do. 

Honey finishes her book with twenty minutes to go and decides that that’s not enough time to find another and take it home with her.

The cover of the constellations book tempts her.

She stares at it, and the silver illustrations stare back. Honey frowns at the book, annoyed at her own interest. How dare Trevor like something as interesting as astronomy.

Finally, Honey relents. She picks up the book and turns to the introduction, her eyes raking over the page. 

“When you go stargazing on a clear, dark night, the star-studded heavens form a vast, dark dome over your head. It is the same everywhere on Earth.”

Honey blinks and hums to herself, adjusting atop her stool. She might have to borrow this book after Trevor is done with it, if the rest of the writing is as captivating as the first two sentences. She buries herself back in the pages, getting all the way through the introductory scientific sections. 

When Bea comes out of the back carrying Honey’s bag and sweatshirt, Honey is almost upset that she couldn’t start the section about constellations and the Zodiac. She’s been meaning to learn more about astrology lately, and this book is just interesting enough that she nearly forgot it was Non-Fiction. 

The girls walk out together, making their way down the sidewalk as the sun finally fades behind the mountains in the distance. When they reach the point where they have to say goodbye, Bea reaches out and squeezes Honey’s hand.

“Thank you,” Bea says sincerely.

“You owe me,” Honey replies. She squeezes Bea’s hand back. “Enjoy your very late dinner.”

“I owe you so big,” Bea confirms, leaning in to plant a kiss on Honey’s cheek. 

Honey watches her go for an extra moment, seeing her approach a car in the dark. Under the streetlight, Quinn leans against the driver’s side door, a smile curving his lips as Bea skips over to him. He connects with Bea in a sweet hug, lifting his chin so it rests on the crown of her head. He lifts a hand to wave at Honey, letting it hover before it falls back on Bea’s shoulder.

Honey smiles, waving back in the same way. She takes the sight in for a second– her best friend bouncing over to a guy and wiggling her way into his space. Quinn’s a quiet, generally grumpy guy from what Honey has seen, but he’s soft and comfortable when he’s around Bea.

The smile fades into a slight frown after a moment, and Honey turns away. She’s forlorn suddenly, hit by the desire to have someone act like that with her. She wishes someone was waiting for her by the car, that someone was holding her like she’s something precious. Honey shakes her head, willing the feeling away.

She unlocks her car and climbs behind the wheel, pulling out of her spot and driving down the mountain, almost missing the boys’ driveway in the dark. She pulls up to the wooden front door, knocking on the surface a few times. 

Honey chews her bottom lip as she waits for someone to come answer the door. She taps nervously on the front cover of the book, listening for the approaching footsteps of someone on the other side. 

Please, don’t be Trevor.

Then, fuck. Please be Trevor.

It’s not Trevor when the door swings open, and Honey is ashamed to admit that she’s a little disappointed. She also feels a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of the other boy. She catches a glimpse of dark hair and sighs, thinking it’s Jack.

At a second look, Honey blinks to make sure she’s seeing things right. There’s the foyer, all covered in wood and terribly designed. There’s the chandelier of antlers, hanging above his head. 

The man, however, Honey has never seen in her entire life.

He’s got a square face. Honey’s eyes are drawn to his jaw immediately, the curve of it sharp and flat, further embellished by the dusting of dark stubble on his face. His hair flops over his forehead in dark waves, parted messily just off-center. She can’t tell the color of his eyes, but his dark eyebrows are just as strong as his jaw and his mouth tilts down a little bit, even though he’s plastering a polite smile on his face. He’s wearing a plain gray sweatshirt with the hood above his head, and one of the strings is longer than the other.

Honey feels a bit like she’s forgotten to breathe. Who the fuck is this guy?

“Hi,” Honey breathes out, caught off guard. 

“How can I help you?” The man asks.

His voice is higher than she expected, but it’s cute. He’s cute.

“I’m, uh, dropping a book off for Z,” Honey says, her voice higher than normal. She clears her throat and forces a smile on her face to rectify her stunned, probably obviously stupid, expression. She used Trevor’s nickname. Why is she so much unsteadier than normal?

She blames it on Quinn and Bea.

The man looks Honey up and down and his smile turns sweeter. She damn near blushes. “You’re here for Z?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Honey shakes her head. “Not really, just… dropping off the book.” She fumbles with the paperback. She shoves it into the man’s hands, pausing when his fingers brush over hers. He holds them there for a second longer, just long enough for Honey to look down at the point of contact, smiling knowingly when she looks back up at him.

“I’ll give it to him.” He nods at her, his eyes soft and genuine. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Honey replies, standing there for a moment. The boy starts to close the door and gives her a little look when she doesn’t step away. They make eye contact and Honey opens her mouth to say something, but she’s cut off by another voice, one that’s growing closer with each syllable.

“Jim, who was it?” Trevor calls.

Honey’s eyes widen and she turns to her car, practically jumping in the vehicle and speeding away. 

Nope. No Trevor for her tonight.

If she’s acting awestruck by some pretty boy she’s never seen before, she doesn’t even want to know how she’d act around the infuriating boy who “has never wanted anyone as much as he wants her.” She just can’t do it.

19:90 – TREVOR

Things are looking up. The reasons are threefold. One, that Trevor’s best friend is in town, staying in the house with him and his other best friends. Two, that Quinn had dinner with Bea last night and no longer wants to kill Trevor. Three, that he has a new book to read and it’s cool. 

It’s a short book, something that would take him less than a day if he had all the time in the world, but between workouts and hanging out with his friends, it’ll probably take him a week or so to finish it. He’s eager to read more, having finished the introduction last night. The book is clear without dumbing down any of the information and Trevor feels like a real astronomer. 

He wants to cancel their plans tonight and just sit on his balcony and search for each constellation he reads about, but he’s looking forward to tonight. He hasn’t seen Honey since Tuesday, three full days, and he can’t wait to introduce her to Jamie. 

He’s been debating telling Jamie the whole deal about Honey– about how Trevor had to go back and talk to her after he met her, about how she terrorized him on the pool table and overjoyed the goons by making him do a Zulu Run, how she decimated Jack in one breath, how she and Trevor have this indescribable, insurmountable tension between them, and how much he likes her…

…but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

Instead, when Quinn left the night before, Jack launched into planner mode. He stole Trevor’s phone and texted Bea about coming over for beer night and bringing Honey with her. Jamie had asked about the girls and Jack assured him that he would meet them soon enough and not to worry about it.

Trevor understands why Jamie gets quiet around Jack when the boy says dismissive replies like that.

After Jack’s impromptu planning session, Jamie had gone to bed, and Trevor had lost his chance.

Then, this morning, he and Jamie had played a little roller-hockey in the rink, and they were having too much fun laughing to talk about Honey at all. 

Then, Jamie had gone upstairs for a shower and a nap and Trevor read his book.

Other than that, they haven’t really been alone. Someone is always in the room with them, whether it be Quinn making himself a sandwich for lunch, Cole and Luke running a game of ping pong in the basement, or Jack recruiting Trevor to run to the store with him to buy more liquor and “beer night supplies.”

Trevor suspects that Jack might have an ulterior motive for the evening.

Now, it’s past dinnertime, and Jack’s only just putting a frozen pizza in the oven. He’s got a big, fluffy oven mitt on his hand, and Luke can’t stop taking pictures to send to their Mom. Jack’s hair is back in a baseball cap and he’s shirtless. He claims he was out back tanning before Trevor came downstairs, but Trevor doesn’t believe him.

No, Jack is shirtless so that he can draw Bea’s eyes when she walks through the door. What a slut.

Jack, that is, not Bea. 

The girls are a few minutes away, as per Bea’s text on Trevor’s phone, when Jamie patters down the stairs. He’s wearing an old Flyers t-shirt, something he probably got from a teammate when he was traded there. 

Jamie approaches Trevor in the kitchen, sliding onto the stool next to him, and Trevor goes to wipe the logo off of his shirt. The attempts are futile, obviously, but Jamie gets the message.

“Hey, the girls coming tonight,” Jamie begins. “Are they the same girls you guys were talking about?”

Trevor shrugs. “Yeah, we don’t really know anyone else in town. I’m not even sure there’s anyone else our age in town.”

Jamie nods, a thoughtful look on his face. “Is one of them the girl that dropped off your book last night?”

Trevor laughs. “Yeah, that was Bea. She’s the one who’s hooking up with all the guys.”

Surprise causes Jamie’s lips to part, blinking like he’s taken aback. “Her?” He furrows his eyebrows. “I thought Quinn was going to meet Bea last night.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trevor remembers. “He was.”

Trevor pauses, his features knitted in confusion. Bea wouldn’t have had the time to drive all the way down to the house, especially since Quinn had left to go into town right as her shift ended. She was cooking him dinner and, Trevor had assumed, talking to him about the hookup situation. It wouldn’t have made sense for Bea to drop off the book and then go all the way back to her place with Quinn.

“I guess Honey must have dropped the book off last night,” Trevor realizes quietly, speaking more to think aloud to himself rather than to explain the event to Jamie. Honey was here and he didn’t even realize?

“Honey,” Jamie repeats, feeling the name out.

Trevor nods. “Yeah, I meant to tell you about her. She’s a townie and she’s really great. I think I’m going to–”

He’s cut off by the sound of the front door banging open and Bea tumbling through it. Honey follows behind her, swinging her keys around her finger and giggling when Bea trips over her own foot.

“Bambi,” Honey chides, looping her arm around Bea’s and walking with her to the kitchen. “Still can’t walk after last night?”

“I missed a step,” Bea complains. She turns to the boys in the kitchen. “I swear.”

“Whatever you say, Bambi,” Trevor replies, teasing the girl. 

“Hey,” Honey says, her voice soft. 

Trevor’s back straightens and his eyes light up, turning to face his girl and greet her, but when he looks at her, Honey is already looking at Jamie.

“Hey,” Jamie parrots back. He holds eye contact with Honey for a second too long and Trevor starts to frown. Then, his eyes turn toward Bea and Jamie sticks his hand out. “I’m Jamie.”

Bea takes his hand and shakes it, surveying him. “I’m Bea.” She wets her lips. “This is Honey.”

“We met,” Jamie replies, looking over to Honey again. 

Trevor doesn’t like how he takes her in from head to toe. He especially doesn’t like how Honey bites back a smile and looks away from the dark-haired boy. Her eyes meet Trevor’s for a second and they grow wide before she drops her gaze completely.

Trevor’s seen that look before– it’s the same deer in headlights look that Jack adopted when Quinn walked in on him talking to Cole about Bea this morning.

Honey turns to Bea and nods. “Yeah, Jamie answered the door when I dropped that book off last night.”

There’s the confirmation that Trevor needed– so it was Honey at the door last night. He wishes he could go back in time and hop up from the couch before Jamie did so that he could answer the door himself. 

“The rest of the guys are downstairs,” Trevor says, changing the subject and hopping up from his stool. He starts to gesture towards the stairs, his hand hovering above Honey’s side but not quite touching her. “Jack planned a spectacular party for you girls.”

“Oh, God,” Bea laughs, taking a step towards the steps. “Here I was, thinking this was just another beer night at the boys’ house. I would’ve dressed up if I knew it was a party.”

Honey presses her lips together for a split second, then grins at Bea. Her tone is playful and teasing, but still biting. “I don’t think it matters what you wear, Bea.”

Bea pulls back with an inquisitive quirk of her eyebrows. “Why not? I’m allowed to look nice.”

“It all looks the same on the floor, wouldn’t you agree?”

Trevor’s jaw drops open and he laughs, catching himself off guard with the sound. “Holy fuck, Honey.”

Honey shrugs. “It’s true.”

“You can’t just say shit like that–”

“I mean, she’s right,” Bea agrees, interrupting Trevor and grinning like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “It all ends in a pile anyway.”

Jamie snickers, standing partially behind Trevor. 

Trevor loathes the way Honey looks past him to smile at the quiet boy. He presses his fingertips into the small of Honey’s back, guiding her towards the basement. Ha. Suck on that, Jamie. I’m touching Honey and you’re not.

Honey pulls away from his touch and shoots him a sharp look. She shakes her head minutely, making a face at Trevor. It stuns him, and when she bounds down the stairs after Bea, Jamie bumps into the stationary boy with an “oof.”

“Dude,” Jamie complains.

“What happened last night?” Trevor asks. “When you answered the door and picked up my book?”

“Nothing.” Jamie shrugs. “Honey and I talked for like two seconds, I took the book from her, and then you came to check on me, and she left.”

“Huh,” Trevor replies. Why didn’t she want to see me?

“She’s cute,” Jamie says, sounding far away.

Trevor whirls around to face him. Jamie’s got this distant smile on his face, eyes looking down the stairs where the girls disappeared. 

“I know,” Trevor states. He stares at Jamie, frowning a little. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees. He meets Trevor’s eyes and grins. “Wanna go party?”

Trevor relaxes a little. It’s hard to be suspicious of Jamie, since the kid is so happy all the time. It’s fine if he thinks Honey is cute. Trevor and Honey already have something going on and that isn’t just going to change because Jamie is here. Trevor’s going to continue flirting with the girl, going to keep trying to win her over. Jamie’s presence is a comfort to him, not a threat to his flirtationship with Honey.

Right.

With a deep breath, Trevor and Jamie make their way down the stairs. Jamie heads to the couch, striking up a conversation with Luke about the movie on the big TV. Cole is tossing a football up and down, laying on the loveseat with his feet dangling over the edge. Jack and Quinn are playing pool, and Honey and Bea are sitting on the stools giggling with each other. 

Trevor wanders over and catches the tail end of what Bea’s saying, a snide remark about one of the shots that Quinn took. 

“I’d like to see you do better,” Quinn replies, looking unimpressed. He holds the cue out towards Bea, but she waves him off.

“I’m okay watching, actually.” 

Trevor leans on the windowsill behind Honey, one of his arms resting on the edge of her stool. “Why don’t you show him how it’s done?” He asks, tilting his chin up at Honey in a little nod.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “I’m okay.”

Trevor shrugs in assent, not pressing the matter. “How was your day?”

Honey pauses and shares a glance with Bea. “It was good. How was yours?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you,” Trevor bites back with his most charming grin.

Honey raises her eyebrows in surprise and chuckles out of the side of her mouth. She opens her mouth to say something, cut back with a snarky remark like she always does, but it never comes.

Jack sinks the 8-ball with an interrupting clink and cheers, whooping in a circle around Quinn. 

Quinn glares at him, reracking his stick. He snatches the stick out of Jack’s hand and adds it to the line of cues. 

“Sore loser,” Jack teases, playing with fire.

“Sore winner,” Quinn replies, his face dark. 

“Oh, cut it out,” Luke groans from the couch. “No one wants to hear another fight between you two. Quinn, c’mere, we’re going to play Mario.”

With one last threatening glance at Jack, Quinn joins his brother on the couch and grabs a controller. They’re starting up the game now, picking characters, and Trevor turns to Honey. 

“Do you want to play?” He asks. “I’d love to see you kick some ass in Mario.”

He sees Bea roll her eyes out of his peripheral vision, clearly unimpressed by his compliment. Jack sidles up next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip. “Wanna do a shot with me?”

Bea hops up and nods. “Sure.”

Trevor looks at Honey expectantly, waiting for her to answer.

“I think I’m just going to stick with Bea, but thank you for the compliment, Trevor.” Honey reaches up and pats Trevor’s cheek, a little harder than he thinks is necessary. “Why don’t you go play for the both of us?”

“Will you cheer for me when I win?” Trevor smiles, trying not to feel hurt by the rejection.

Honey snorts out a laugh. “Sure, Trev. I’ll cheer for you when you win.”

“Cool,” Trevor says. “Keep an eye on me, yeah?”

Honey fixes him with a look. “It’s very hard to take my eyes off of you, Trevor.”

Even though she says it sarcastically, Trevor grins like she meant it. His chest warms like she meant it. At least she admits to looking at him, even if she’s teasing him when she does. He’s worried about nothing– Honey is getting comfortable and Trevor isn’t doing anything to push her away. She’ll be his girl in no time.

Trevor nods and taps her knee in farewell, turning to hop over the couch and settle in next to Jamie.

The boys are racing with the screen split into four. Jamie’s playing as Luigi, Luke is Yoshi, Cole is Bowser, and Quinn is a Shy Guy. They’re playing some castle circuit, and the game quickly gets heated.

Cole, as a testament to how peculiar he is, wins each game. He can’t play pool for shit, but he can dominate in Mario Kart. It’s his one calling card and he never stops bragging when they play. 

Eventually, they finish the circuit. Trevor had kept an ear out for Honey and Bea in the area behind him, laughing and giggling. Occasionally, they’ll clink tiny shot glasses together with Jack and down them, and Bea winces every time. 

Quinn looks over his shoulder with each cough that leaves Bea’s mouth, but bites his cheeks instead of wandering up to her when Jack rubs her shoulders soothingly. 

Honestly? Trevor admires his restraint. He’s taking Bea’s ‘Slut Summer’ very well, now that it seems to be in full swing. 

Trevor doesn’t notice Jamie grow quieter and quieter with each time one of the boys yells over him. He had procured Cole’s controller when he left to take a leak and a few shots with the other three “partygoers,” so Trevor’s focus is his kart and Peach’s position on the leaderboard. 

They’re in the middle of Rainbow Road when Cole comes back and demands to take the final lap. He snatches his controller back from Trevor, since Trevor was in second and “it was his controller first!” 

Trevor blanches and complains, and Jamie silently passes over his own controller. Fifth place isn’t bad, but Trevor can do better. He thanks Jamie for the controller, remembering why Jamie’s his best buddy, and Jamie sinks into the couch. He sets his feet up on the coffee table and stretches his arms out over the back of the couch. Trevor leans forward, focusing.

“Trevy-baby,” Bea’s voice calls from behind him. Trevor bites his lip as he takes a turn on the difficult course, managing to swipe an item box while drifting. “Will you come here a minute?”

“Kind of in the middle of something, Bea,” Trevor replies. 

Quinn makes a noise of disapproval, but his eyes stay focused on the screen and he throws out a red shell, hitting Luke’s kart.

“Okay, well, we need another person,” Bea bites back, sounding a little annoyed. 

Trevor nudges Jamie with his elbow. “Can you go see what they’re talking about?” Trevor has just climbed into second place, and he has eyes on the back of Cole’s kart.

“Yeah, bud, no problem,” Jamie agrees easily, standing from the couch and disappearing from Trevor’s eyeline. 

Trevor refocuses on the game, eying an item box that will hopefully afford him a blue shell, giving him the chance to knock Cole out of the running and win, so he can listen to Honey cheer for him. 

Just as Trevor gets the box and triumphantly shouts out a “Yes!”, Luke strikes them all with lightning from fourth place and ruins Trevor’s chances. Luke even speeds up and beats Trevor out for second place, but it wasn’t as tight as it was for Cole.

“You know that was my fucking controller, dude,” Trevor grumbles at the other boy. “I was in second, I could’ve won. You’re an impatient fuck.”

He tosses his controller on the table in front of him and crosses his arms over his chest. He wanted Honey to cheer for him, wanted her attention on him again. 

I guess I can see what Bea wanted now.

Trevor turns, looking over the back of the couch towards the girls and Jack and Jamie. “What did you need from me, Bea?” He asks, voice still pouty from his loss.

He’s met with the sight of Honey and Bea sitting on the edge of the pool table and his jaw slackens. They’ve both lost their shirts, left in bras and shorts. Trevor’s eyes fix on Honey’s chest and he can already feel his mind turning. Her skin looks soft and smooth and the curves of her cleavage are visible in the bra, but not bulging up like a corset. She looks like she would if she were lazing around in Trevor’s bathroom while he takes a shower, getting ready for the day. He can imagine talking to her over the spray of the shower, begging her to come wash his hair even though she’s already said no three times.

Trevor notices the shot glass resting between her breasts, balancing against the band of her bra. She’s looking down, fixing it and trying not to spill a drop. She has no idea that Trevor is practically salivating at the sight of her.

There’s a lime between her lips, facing outward. 

Oh, fuck.

Jamie licks the back of his hand, sprinkling some salt on the patch of wetness. Jack does the same thing, standing between Bea’s parted legs, and Trevor’s head whips toward Quinn.

The older boy’s expression is nonchalant, barely passing over Bea and Honey before returning to the television. The only sign that he could be bothered is the clench of his jaw and the hard stare of his eyes, but Trevor receives that look every day, so he quickly realizes that he’s not going to find any shared outrage from Quinn.

Trevor frowns. He feels like he’s turning sour, rotting from the inside out as Honey brushes her hair back and looks up at Jamie, the edges of her mouth turned up in a smile. The lime wobbles between her lips, but doesn’t fall. 

“Cole,” Bea calls, distracted. She pushes her boobs together and Jack plops the shot glass securely in her cleavage, letting his hand linger there. “Can you count us down, please?”

“No problem,” Cole replies, not even looking at the scene in front of them. “From three? Or do you want, like, a ten count?”

When Trevor looks around, he realizes that he’s the only one staring at the four people. Quinn’s facing forward, debating a new circuit with Luke. Cole is tossing a piece of popcorn up in the air and trying to catch it. 

“Three’s fine,” Bea replies, bringing a lime up to her own lips.

“Whenever you’re ready, Coley,” Jack adds, fitting his hand into the curve of Bea’s waist. He stares down at her and she stares right back, the air between them heated. 

Trevor looks back at Honey and Jamie, at the way Jamie is slightly bent over so that his eyes are even with Honey’s. She carefully reaches her arm up and removes his ball cap, turning it backwards atop her own head. She smiles at Jamie when she does so, and Trevor’s vision turns red at the edges. 

That’s his smile. Honey is his girl, not Jamie’s.

Cole starts to count down from three, and Trevor can’t look away. When Cole says “go!”, Jack licks the salt off of his hand and lunges forward to retrieve the shot glass from Bea’s cleavage, throwing his head back and downing the liquor without using his hands. Bea reaches up to remove the glass from his mouth, then his teeth bite into her lime. He spits it out after the citrus bursts over his tongue and it lands with a plop on the floor, but neither of them care. Bea’s eyes are wide when Jack’s lips close over her own and his tongue slips into her mouth, but they quickly flutter shut and she pulls him close.

Quinn is not looking. If he was, Trevor thinks he might rip Jack’s hair out.

Jamie is much more delicate with his body shot, taking his time. Trevor grinds his teeth, watching how Honey’s eyes sparkle as they take in the dark-haired boy in front of her. She inches forward a little when Jamie laps at the salt on his hand, then she pushes her chest out so he can take the glass from her body with ease. Jamie brings his hand to his mouth to take the glass out, setting it neatly on the edge of the table beside Honey, and leans in, plucking the lime from Honey’s mouth. He pulls away from her, giving her a goofy lime-rind-covered smile and Honey matches it.

Trevor is aghast– his mouth is wide open and he’s staring at the big hand that’s palming Honey’s thigh. He wants to rip Jamie’s hand off of her skin and replace it with his own, lean in and kiss her the way that Jack is kissing Bea.

Fuck, why didn’t he listen when Bea called his name? Why did he send Jamie over to see what they needed? That could’ve been him between Honey’s legs.

He’s never playing Mario Kart again.

The moment is over in under a minute, but Trevor feels like he’s been watching it for years on end. He can feel the muscles on his face clenching, his eyebrows narrowing at the sight of his ex-best friend and his girl so close together. 

In an instant, Honey is looking at him, and Trevor just knows that she’s startled by the anger she sees written all over his face. She looks at Trevor, then to Jamie, then back to Trevor. Her lips part and her chest heaves, but Trevor refuses to let his eyes fall. No, he’s keeping his gaze locked on Honey’s until she starts to squirm, feeling behind her for her shirt and pulling it on.

She looks at Trevor again when she’s finished covering herself up, and Trevor nods. 

Then he stands and goes upstairs, locking himself in his bedroom and punching his pillow until he feels better (and until the pillow stops bearing a striking resemblance to Jamie’s face).

20:90 – HONEY

Honey wakes in an unfamiliar bed, groaning at the soreness of her muscles. It’s a twin sized bed, smaller than the one she has at home, and she feels squished. It was this or the couch, and Honey didn’t want to sleep on the couch, so Jamie took that instead. 

She was too drunk to drive home last night, even though it’s less than ten minutes on the road and she knows this mountain by heart. She slept at the boys’ house, in the spare room. Jamie had found a big shirt for her to wear and helped her pull it over her head. He had messily braided her hair out of her face, then wished her goodnight, and left the room.

That was it. 

Honey’s stunned by how gentlemanly it all was, even now, hours later.

She didn’t dream the night before– she never does when she goes to bed drunk. 

She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and sways with dizziness, blinking hard to clear the spots of darkness from her vision. The sun seems to be just peeking over the mountains, bright and harsh against her eyes, even when they’re closed. 

“Ugh,” she mutters, knowing that now that she’s awake, there’s no way she can fall back asleep. Her stomach growls, loud and embarrassing even though she’s the only person in the room. She clutches at her middle, rubbing over the skin to soothe it. 

Honey stands, taking a moment to gather her bearings. The hangover is hitting her hard, even though she didn’t drink that much. 

Well.

After Trevor stormed upstairs, Honey was upset and annoyed. She let Jack mix her drinks until Bea dragged him upstairs, and then she employed Cole as her personal bartender. 

Together, they learned that Cole is a terrible mixologist, but he is able to juggle. He and Honey tossed a lime back and forth for almost an hour without dropping it, all the while giggling and chatting. When Honey finally dropped the lime, Cole grabbed three and threw them up in the air, laughing until he figured out how to stagger the limes properly. 

She had almost fallen asleep on the couch, tucked into Luke’s side. She had crawled up to him and tousled his curls with a pout on her face before turning and facing the TV to watch the movie he had thrown on. She also remembers Quinn snorting with laughter after Honey laid her head on Luke’s shoulder, to which she had slurred: “What are you laughing at?”

Before she could slur out something embarrassing and mean about Bea hooking up with Jack instead of Quinn, Jamie had appeared in front of her and helped her up, saying that it was late and she looked ready for bed. 

Everything else comes to her in little flashes and there are gaps missing. Honey’s not too concerned. She’s never been an embarrassing drunk.

Plus, after three weeks, she might actually consider these guys to be her friends.

Honey wanders upstairs to the kitchen, finding a pot of fresh coffee in the maker and pouring herself a mug. She finds milk in the fridge and cereal in the cabinets, pouring herself a bowl. With her cereal in one hand and her coffee in the other, Honey approaches the sliding glass door to the balcony. 

She makes it to the door and frowns to herself, trying to find a way to open the door without putting down one of her items. 

As she’s tucking her mug into her elbow, burning herself a little bit on the ceramic, Jamie appears on the other side of the door.

He jumps back a little, just like Honey does. They both let out a laugh at their mirrored actions, and Jamie reaches out to slide the glass door open. 

“Coming to join me?” He asks.

“What are you doing up?” Honey asks at the same time.

They laugh again. 

“I did a quick workout this morning,” Jamie explains. “I missed my practice yesterday, so I wanted to get up and get some extra work in.”

“Cool,” Honey muses, setting her cereal bowl on the armrest of one of the rocking chairs. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be up.”

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Jamie says. “You were pretty out of it last night.”

Honey crinkles her nose. “Was I?”

“It’s not every day that Luke has a pretty girl trying to figure out his curl pattern from touch alone.” Jamie smiles, lines appearing on his cheeks, but not dimpling like Cole’s. 

“Well, if that’s the worst thing, at least I remember it,” Honey replies. She eats a spoonful of her cereal, waving her spoon towards Jamie. A splash of milk flies at him, but he brushes it off with a wave of his hand. “You were really quiet last night,” Honey notices. “Why is that?”

“These guys aren’t, like… my guys,” Jamie explains, shrugging and making a face. “Trevor knows that I’m not the best with this crowd, but he said he needed an ally. So, I came as fast as I could.” 

“Why don’t you like the guys?” Honey asks, furrowing her brow.

Jamie shrugs again. “Jack doesn’t like how quiet I am, Cole and Luke like Jack more than me ‘cause they've known him longer, so that makes sense, and Quinn just doesn’t really like to stray from his normal group of friends.” 

“Well, what about Trevor?”

“We’re close because we were on the same team in California. We became fast friends when I was drafted to the Ducks, but I’m not childhood friends with Trevor like the other guys are. Now, I’m in Philly, so Z and I aren’t even together all the time anymore.”

“Does he prioritize Jack over you?”

“Jack’s needier than me,” Jamie explains, shaking his head. “Trevor tends to him more. It’s really important to keep Jack happy.”

“I’ve noticed that he can be a little… full of himself,” Honey agrees.

“Yeah.” Jamie cracks a smile. “I’m a little easier to get along with, I think.”

Easier.

It triggers something in her. Honey straightens up like an electric current ran through her. 

“Do you want to go on a hike, Jamie? With me?” She asks, the idea clicking in her head half-formed.

The easiest way to get over someone is to get under someone else, Bea says. 

They can talk and get to know each other. It’ll be like another workout for Jamie, making up for the missed practice even more. Plus, Honey wants something easy. She wants to be as happy as Quinn and Bea. Jamie’s sweet and they clicked last night, and she wants to learn more things about him. He’s not as volatile as Trevor and Honey doesn’t think that he would upset her as much as Trevor does, all the time.

“Just the two of you?” comes the voice from behind Honey, the creak of a floorboard signaling the arrival of another person.

Honey spins around in her chair, looking at the sliding door. Of course, it’s Trevor. Just when she thinks about him, he appears, and of course he heard her invitation. His tone is a little judgmental, a little sad, and a little hopeful. 

“Just the two of us,” Honey doubles down, pummeling all hope Trevor had of joining them.

Jamie smiles at Honey, grateful that she’s willing to prioritize him over everyone else in the house and willing to invite him out. “That would be awesome, thanks, Honey. I’ll go pack some waters and make some sandwiches.”

He stands from his chair, then reaches down and clasps Honey’s hand, giving it a squeeze before walking back into the house. 

Trevor watches Jamie walk past him through the balcony door, then turns back to Honey. 

“You can’t go out with him,” Trevor says.

“Why not?” Honey asks, affronted. 

“Because he’s not me,” Trevor replies.

“I know. That’s why I should go out with him. He wasn’t afraid to full-send a body shot, unlike you. He also helped me to bed when I was drunk last night, and you locked yourself in your bedroom because you were pouting,” Honey bites back, still stewing about the way Trevor had ignored Bea's wave over. 

She really had wanted Trevor to take the body shot off her, wanting to test their chemistry again after the whipped cream incident. She had expected him to want to do the same. She was wrong, again, and she hates being wrong. 

“Jamie isn’t very wishy-washy about his intentions, Trevor.”

“Do you want to know my intentions?” Trevor demands. “I intend to get you to go out with me. I intend to make you like me. I’m not going to ruin that by rushing into this too fast. I saw how you looked the other night.”

Honey blanches at Trevor’s words. “Don’t bring that shit up.”

“Honey, you ran out of the house and took Bea with you. You looked horrified,” Trevor presses.

“Does it look like I’m reacting the same way now?” Honey replies, incredulous. “Clearly, things have changed and you need to accept that. I’ve decided I want something different, Trevor.”

“Like Jamie.”

Trevor’s voice is chilling. His volume is low and definite. He glares at Honey, crossing his arms over his chest. He bites his tongue and taps his foot. 

Honey looks him up and down, a little nervous at the sudden change up. Did she go too far?

No, she decides. She hasn’t gone too far. Trevor won't let her run away from this right now, and she has to get him to let her go. She hasn’t gone far enough.

“Yes, like Jamie,” Honey confirms. She crosses her own arms over her chest. 

Trevor glares at Honey a moment longer, and his anger flashes, but Honey catches a glimpse of resignation.

“Fine,” Trevor spits out, shaking his head. “Do what you want. Don’t let me or my feelings fucking stop you.”

Honey opens her mouth to retort, but he’s already closing the balcony door behind him.

She doesn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

Honey returns to the kitchen and dumps her cereal down the sink, turning on the garbage disposal. Jamie asks if she wants anything particular on her sandwich, and she says no. She walks to Jack’s room, remembering where it was from Cole’s tour, and knocks quietly. 

There’s no movement inside, so Honey cracks the door open. She sees Bea stir and blink an eye open, becoming more alert when she spots Honey in the doorway. Jack lays fast asleep, his arm over Bea’s stomach.

“I’m going hiking with Jamie,” Honey whispers. 

“Okay,” Bea mouths. She side-eyes Jack, then widens her eyes at Honey.

“How was it?” Honey says, voice still low. She’s wary, knowing that look.

“So. Fast.” Bea rolls her eyes back and sticks her tongue out, pretending to be dead. “I need to go to Quinn’s room.”

Honey snickers behind her fingers, a loud snort escaping her.

Bea opens her mouth in a silent scream, her shoulders shaking with laughter. She has to squeeze her eyes shut and mouth “Go away!” to Honey so that she doesn’t wake up the sleeping boy beside her. 

Honey slips from the room and meets Jamie down by the front door, a backpack on his shoulders full of water and their lunch. He tells her that he even packed a blanket for when they stop to eat, so they don’t have to sit on the ground. 

She spots Trevor over his shoulder, the back of his head unmoving, but Honey can tell that he’s still seething. She feels a pull to him, wanting to brush a kiss behind his ear and tell him that she’ll be back soon, but the feeling is overtaken by guilt and she almost gags. 

That’s right– she’s still hungover. 

“We’ll just have to stop by my place really fast so I can get into some hiking clothes,” Honey tells Jamie, sliding her shoes on and grabbing her keys from the table next to the door. 

Trevor releases a breath and seems to shake his head, listening in on them. Honey wobbles a little bit at the noise, frowning deeply. She grasps the door handle and allows Jamie to lead the way out of the house, relishing in the fact that she can slam the heavy door behind her and show Trevor that he’s not bothering her. 

Jamie talks a little bit on the drive and offers to wait in the vehicle while Honey changes inside. She comes back in athletic shorts and an old wrinkled practice jersey from Bea’s volleyball days. It’s supposed to be a hot day, otherwise Honey would be wearing one of her favorite ratty tees and her best leggings. The jersey falls like a muscle tee and she knows Jamie can see her black sports bra when she walks, but it’s no different than when Trevor felt over the lace around her ribs last Friday.

They go to Honey’s favorite spot, twenty minutes up the road. A few years ago, she got really into running and used to run this trail all the time. It’s two and a half miles up to the outlook from the parking lot, so she figures that she and Jamie can hike up and stop for lunch at the top.

“I have a proposal for you,” Honey says. 

“What’s up?” Jamie asks, hooking his backpack over his shoulders and making sure his shoes are tied. 

“Tell me about you on the way up and I’ll tell you about me on the way down.” Honey presents the idea with a big smile, shrugging enticingly at Jamie. 

“Like what?” 

They start to make their way toward the mouth of the trail, and Jamie motions for Honey to go first.

“I don’t know. Where’d you grow up? What’s your family like? What’s the deal with you guys and hockey? Stuff like that,” Honey says, looking ahead of her but calling over her shoulder. “I’ll lead the way up and listen, and then you can lead the way down and ask me whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Jamie agrees. “I grew up in Toronto, moved to California when I was drafted, lived with Z for a while. That was fun. I was traded to Philly this past year and I’ll be playing there for a while, I guess.”

“What do you like most about Toronto?” Honey asks.

Jamie responds and they trek on, filling the trail with the sounds of soft steps and chatter. They reach the peak in a little under an hour and a half, making great time. Jamie sets out the blanket for them facing the rest of the mountains, and Honey sits cross-legged on the edge of the fabric. She toes her shoes off and leaves them off to the side, giving her feet a rest. 

Jamie hands her a sandwich and a water, which they eat in silence. After finishing the first half of his sandwich, Jamie pauses, leaning back on his hands. He looks out over the horizon, squinting at the brightness of the sun. He adjusts his white ballcap on his head, trying to shade himself from the light a bit.

“It’s really pretty,” Jamie says. “I get why you would want to live here.”

“It’s the best place in the world,” Honey says simply, following his gaze. She breathes in, feeling the fresh, crisp, mountain air fill her lungs. 

She looks over at Jamie and he meets her there, smiling softly. His eyes glint in the sun and Honey notices his freckles, sprinkled all across his nose and the apples of his cheeks. They break eye contact simultaneously, looking back out. Honey adjusts so she’s sitting the same way Jamie is, leaning back on her hands. 

“You can see so far,” Jamie observes.

Honey nods. “Yeah. My dad used to say that if you could count ten rows back, then you could see all the way to Tennessee. That was at my house, so maybe it’s eight here.”

They pause and Jamie raises a hand, pointing at each layer and counting quietly. He points to a faded, barely visible row to the right of Honey’s vision. “Nine,” he says confidently. “We’re practically in the central time zone already.”

His hand drops, next to Honey’s. His pinky covers hers, splayed out on the blanket. 

Honey’s stomach flips a little bit and she feels the tips of her ears grow hot. She bites back a grin and looks down at her lap, then reaches for her bottle of water and takes a sip.

“Can I start asking you questions yet?” Jamie teases, knocking his shoulder against hers, tilting his head down to catch Honey’s eye. “Or do we have to wait until we’re actually walking down the mountain?”

“Whatever you want, Jam,” Honey says. 

Jamie teases her, forming an ‘o’ with his mouth and wiggling his eyebrows. “Whatever I want.” He grins.

“You sound like Bea.” Honey rolls her eyes and lengthens her neck from side to side, hoping to crack it.

“Let’s start there,” Jamie suggests. “How did you guys become friends?”

“We met in preschool. She had a pack of pink markers and a boy named Will stole mine because he was a dick and Bea shared hers.” Honey smiles fondly at the memory. “We’ve been friends ever since.”

“You still have beef with this Will kid?”

“Absolutely, he sucks.”

“Was that here? In Litchton?”

Honey’s smile fades. She pauses, then shakes her head. “No, we grew up in Charlotte. Litchton was my dad’s vacation home when he was a kid and he wanted me to have a similar experience as him.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Are you and your dad close?”

Honey grimaces. Jamie doesn’t know. He’s just asking about Honey’s past, the same way Honey asked about his on the walk up here. He doesn’t mean any harm.

“Um… we used to be,” Honey replies. She looks back out at the mountains. “When Bea and I chose to move up here, I bought the house from my dad for a cheaper price– I spent every paycheck for like a year on the place, plus all the money I had saved up from my high school job, and most of Bea’s paycheck since she was living with me. We stayed in touch until I handed him the last check.”

Jamie hums, listening intently. It’s a neutral sound, non-judgmental. Honey’s lips quirk up and she continues.

“My parents didn’t love when I decided to move up here and decline my college acceptances. I wasn’t willing to budge and neither were they, so we… lost touch.” Honey trails off, taking a deep breath.

“Do you miss them?” Jamie asks, thoughtful. “Do you miss Charlotte?”

“I miss them on, like, my birthday.” Honey shrugs. She extends her legs and crosses her ankles. Her fingers twitch under Jamie’s. “Their anniversary, and whatnot. As for Charlotte, I don’t miss that place at all.”

“Not a city girl?”

“Not at all. Charlotte was too rigid for me. People are busybodies there and they have great jobs and drive nice cars and go to good schools… I just wanted to live somewhere where I could relax and no one would bat an eye.”

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees, nodding. He frowns, jutting his bottom lip out in thought. “I get it.”

They sit in silence a little longer and Jamie moves his hand so it completely covers Honey’s. She smiles and turns her head to the right, away from Jamie. She bites her tongue between her teeth and takes a deep breath. Her stomach is flopping all over the place.

God, does Bea feel like this all the fucking time? It’s miserable.

“Here’s a lighter question,” Jamie chuckles, shuffling closer to Honey. “What curl pattern did you decide on for Luke?”

Honey throws her head back laughing, pulling her hand out from under Jamie’s and reaching for her shoes. “I think it’s time we head back down,” she says. “Since you’re starting to ask me questions that I can’t answer.”

“Do you mind if I take my shirt off? It’s hot out here,” Jamie complains, removing his hat from his head with a dazzling grin and placing it on Honey’s head. “Hold that for me, will you?”

“I don’t mind,” Honey replies, fixing the hat on her head. She grins over at Jamie, then reaches down to tie her shoelaces again.

Jamie pulls his shirt over the back of his head, stuffing it into his backpack. He takes Honey’s trash and his own, pushing them into the side pocket of his bag, then sliding his water bottle on top of them. 

Honey helps him pack up the blanket and they head down the mountain. Jamie peppers her with questions, both easy and funny and hard and deep. He makes her laugh, he makes her think, and they have fun. 

They make a good pace and Jamie does a good job of leading the way. He stops with half a mile to go, and Honey bumps into him, trying to watch her step.

“What?” Honey asks, peering around him to see if there’s something blocking the way. 

Jamie turns to face her and Honey gets an eyeful of pale torso due to their proximity. She looks up at Jamie, stepping back. She stumbles back, tripping over a root, and Jamie catches her waist, steadying her.

He opens his mouth in question, then closes it. He looks down at Honey’s lips and she feels her mouth go dry. His eyes are wide, clear, and light and they’re regarding Honey, swirling with an unidentifiable emotion. 

Honey takes in a breath. 

“New question,” Jamie murmurs.

Honey nods, and Jamie’s other hand sweeps her hair off her shoulder, thumbing the side of her neck.

“I really want to kiss you.”

“That’s not a question,” Honey comments, voice hushed.

Jamie licks his lips, breathing out a laugh. “Can I kiss you?” he corrects.

Honey gulps, her heart stuttering in her chest. Her hand makes its way to Jamie’s traps, his muscle hard beneath her palm. His skin is pinking a little bit, affected by the sun and the heat, and Honey tilts her head. It’s peculiar. She just feels… like she’s an inch out of place.

She looks into his eyes and he’s gazing at her so patiently that Honey can’t help but lean up and slot her bottom lip between his. 

There’s relief washing over her, taking all the tension from her shoulders. She loses herself in the kiss, overwhelmed by how good it feels to be doing this.

It’s not because of Jamie, Honey realizes. It’s because she’s finally ready to do this sort of thing again. Maybe she is looking for this, searching hard.

He swipes his tongue across Honey’s bottom lip and she opens for him. Honey brings her hand from his traps up into his hair, raking through the strands. He smiles against her lips and Honey repeats the motion.

And then it hits her again– she’s just an inch too far to the left. This isn’t right. 

There’s nothing wrong, Honey reassures herself, using Jamie’s hair as a crutch to keep her in place. It fails, because the strands are too short and too thin and too straight, and it all clicks.

Honey pulls away.

Aw, hell.

“Jamie,” Honey sighs, closing her eyes. She bites her lip and covers her eyes with one of her hands. 

“Nope, it’s okay,” Jamie replies, surprisingly upbeat. He plucks his hat off Honey’s head, hiding his own hair underneath it. He wraps his arms around Honey’s shoulders and drops a kiss on her head. “I know that tone.”

Honey groans, frustrated. She presses her face into Jamie’s pec, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“I have my next question for you,” Jamie teases, poking her arm when he pulls away.

“What?” Honey snaps, miserably.

“How long have you been fucking Trevor?”

“Fuck off,” Honey mewls, sagging like the weight of the world just fell on her shoulders. 

“Nah, I saw that look between you two.” Jamie grabs Honey’s hand and starts to lead her along the trail again.

She follows, rolling her eyes and shaky on her legs. “I’m not fucking Trevor.”

“Why not?”

Honey opens her mouth, then stumbles when she realizes she has no answer for him. She thinks, searching her mind, and she misses the smirk that grows on Jamie’s face with each minute of passing silence. 

Honey still doesn’t have an answer when they make it back to the mouth of the trailhead, parking lot visible. 

“I don’t know,” she whispers when Jamie comes to a stop, swinging his backpack around to his front and digging for Honey’s keys. 

He looks up at her through his lashes, pausing. Then, his lips pinch like he’s trying not to laugh. “Maybe you should,” he suggests.

Honey pauses, her brain feeling fried. “Yeah,” she agrees, the word forming slowly in her mouth. 

Jamie fishes the keys out and unlocks the car. He pulls his shirt out of the bag, then hesitates. “It would kill him if I drove us back to the house shirtless,” Jamie considers. He looks up at Honey, waiting.

Honey feels a smile start to take over her face. “Don’t fucking wear that shirt back.”

Jamie breaks out in laughter and opens the passenger door for Honey, helping her into her own vehicle. He rounds the car and starts it up, dropping a hand on Honey’s knee. He gives her joint a squeeze and flashes a dazzling smile. “He’s cooked.”

Honey laughs and rolls the window down, feeling the wind dance over her face as Jamie starts to drive down the mountain. 

When they pull into the driveway, the boys are skating along the patio. Cole’s trying to do a backwards one-legged glide, and keeps wobbling off the concrete. Jamie comes to a stop a good ten feet from the boys, leaning over Honey to open her door from the inside of the vehicle. As Honey steps out, he unbuckles and rounds the vehicle, pressing the keys into her hand. He wraps an arm around her neck in a hug and pulls her forehead to his lips, pecking it quickly. 

“Make sure you give me a wave on the way out,” Jamie conspires in a whisper, then pulls away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Bring Bea.” He walks backwards away from her, pointing in farewell.

Honey goes to the driver’s side of the vehicle and climbs in. Quinn skates up next to the car, tapping for her to roll down the window. 

“What’s up?” She asks.

Quinn just nods for a few seconds before he answers, pressing his lips together. “Bring Bea tomorrow,” he repeats. 

Honey snorts out a laugh. “Okay.”

“Tell her I found the stopwatch she wanted.”

Honey laughs aloud at that, looking over to Jack. Quinn’s follows her gaze and snickers. 

“Figures,” he says.

“Bye, Quinn,” Honey bids, and shifts the car into drive. 

He waves and skates away, and she inches forward. 

The rest of the boys part the driveway for her. Cole waves goodbye enthusiastically, and Jack, Luke, and Trevor just stand there. Honey looks back and finds Jamie, raising her hand with a smile. As she pulls away, her eyes slide over Trevor and she can’t hide the smug grin that overtakes her face at the sight of him.

He has no idea what’s coming.

21:90 – TREVOR

Trevor hasn’t talked to Jamie since before he left for his hike yesterday. He’s wallowing, admittedly, and the boys are getting a kick out of it. Trevor was consoled by the fact that no one else saw the body shot last night except Jack, but Jack had to preach his tale of triumph to the crowd. 

Over brunch, after walking Bea to the door– Quinn was waiting in the car to drive her home– Jack launched into a dramatic recreation of the event, using Cole as his mannequin. He didn’t do an actual shot, nor did he touch Cole’s body the way he did Bea’s. Cole even puckered up, pretending to hold a lime in his mouth, but Jack didn’t kiss him.

Cole feigned disappointment until Trevor laughed, then he just hopped off the counter and kept eating his food. 

After brunch, Cole and Luke filled Trevor and Jack in on what they missed after they disappeared upstairs the previous night: Cole learned how to juggle, Luke and Quinn watched a movie, and Jamie took Honey to bed when she cuddled up into Luke’s side and pushed her fingers through his hair, slurring about curl patterns.

“‘Righ’now you’re a 2C, but we can make your hair pretty like a 3B if y’use the right products an’ procedures,’” Cole mocked, making sure to slur his words and hiccup over the longer syllables. 

Trevor had tried not to smile at their caricature of Honey, but the thought of the girl slurring and falling over herself and still using words like ‘procedures’ made Trevor feel warm inside. 

Luke just blushed and shook his head at the mockery, grinning to himself and rubbing the back of his head. 

Shortly after, Quinn had joined them again and proposed that they skate around a bit. They weren’t playing road hockey or anything, so the skating became a game of driveway tag until Cole got mad that he couldn’t catch anyone and quit. He started trying to do figure-skating tricks instead, and the rest of the boys just hung out.

Trevor had felt fine until Jamie pulled up in Honey’s car, behind the wheel and shirtless. Honey had looked a little dazed and pink in the cheeks, but Trevor blamed it on the heat. Who hikes in this weather? 

He had bit his tongue when Jamie opened the door for Honey, leaning over her. He had clenched his jaw when Jamie gave Honey a hug and a kiss on the forehead, and scowled when Honey waved goodbye to Jamie, and only Jamie. Then, she had had the audacity to smirk at Trevor when she drove away.

So, suffice to say, Trevor wasn’t all that interested in what happened on the hike. He wasn’t excited that Jamie was in town anymore, he wasn’t in the mood to congratulate Jack on bagging Bea– although he did notice the smirk that Quinn tried to hide when Jack brought it up again, and he was not looking forward to the next time Honey and Bea hang out with them.

Which, apparently, is today.

Jamie had invited Honey over for a fun, lazy Sunday at the house and he had told her to bring Bea along. 

Quinn was the one who revealed the plan to Trevor when he came up to Trevor around noon and asked him very quietly if he would text Bea on Quinn’s behalf.

In the end, the message said “Quinn wants to know what time you’re coming over? He says he has your stopwatch. Also, GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER ALREADY SO I DON’T HAVE TO BE YOUR MESSENGER PIGEON!”

Bea texted him back within minutes and said: “Just got out of church u ratty bitch don’t tell me how to live my life” and “H and I are coming over at like 3 we need to debrief the Jack thing from last night first.”

“Why do you have to debrief? Was he bad”

“he wasn’t BAD”

“... He came early didn’t he”

“No comment. Leave me alone this is why I can’t give anyone else my number… bc you’re BLOWING UP MY DAMN PHONE!!!!!”

Trevor didn’t dignify Bea with a response then, but it’s almost four o’clock in the afternoon now, and the girls still haven’t shown up. Trevor is getting impatient and the other boys are getting antsy, tired of waiting for the girls to show. Cole has started pacing, mumbling about how they could’ve done something in the time they’ve spent waiting. He blames Trevor for it and bothers him until he puts down his book, which is still very good, and texts Bea again.

“Tick tock Bea”

Bea laughs at the message, but doesn’t give Trevor a real response until he asks if they want Quinn to cook dinner for them: “yes we’re leaving now”

Trevor passes the message along and Quinn adds two burgers to the grill. Trevor reopens his book and dives back into the world of astronomy. 

Quinn’s burgers are done and plated in fifteen minutes, ready for the boys to descend on the platter and assemble their burgers. 

The girls arrive just as Trevor sits at the dining room table with Luke and Cole. They wave into the dining room as they pass it and Trevor notices that Bea is still wearing her sundress from church, while Honey is wearing some red gingham shorts and a tiny little tank top. There’s a little sliver of her lower back showing as she walks away and Trevor swoons. 

He covers it up by biting into his burger and starting at one divot on the wooden table. 

Quinn joins them soon after and sits at the head of the table. He starts eating silently, ignoring the other boys. Bea and Jack walk into the room together and sit down at the only two seats next to each other that are left open– the one next to Quinn and the empty one next to it. 

Bea sits between the brothers and Trevor smirks into his burger, chewing the meat and eying the girl. She catches his gaze and glares at him, a deathly look that doesn’t bother Trevor in the slightest. Bea can’t do any harm to him– all of her looks are just empty threats. Maybe if Trevor were hooking up with her, he’d be a little more afraid, but that will never happen.

When Jamie and Honey enter the room, giggling quietly between the two of them, Bea turns Trevor’s smirk against him and sticks her tongue out before taking a sip of her water. 

Luck is on Trevor’s side, because the only two remaining chairs aren’t next to each other. There’s one on his left and one at the other head of the table between Luke and Cole. Jamie gestures for Honey to take her pick of the seats and, to Trevor’s disappointment, she walks toward the head of the table.

Jamie takes his seat next to Trevor and bumps into him good-naturedly, giving him a smile. Trevor side-eyes him and glares, taking another bite of his burger. 

They eat in silence for a little while, until Luke finishes his burger and throws his napkin atop his empty plate. 

“This is miserable,” Luke complains. “Can we do something?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing nothing all day and Trevor is getting on my nerves,” Cole agrees. 

Trevor places his burger on his plate and slams his hands down on the table. “Why me? I haven’t even done anything to annoy you.”

“You haven’t talked to me all day,” Jamie mumbles off-handedly, fixing the bun of his burger so it stops sliding away.

Honey coughs, then clears her throat. “You haven’t talked to Jamie all day?” She asks, frowning at Trevor.

Cole looks up to the ceiling and claps his hands together like he’s praying, his cheeks dimpling as he mouths a “thank you” towards the sky.

Trevor flashes a threatening finger at Cole and swallows the bite he’d been chewing. 

“No, I haven’t,” Trevor answers simply. He swallows again and intertwines his fingers, pushing his plate away. He lifts the corners of his mouth, but his eyes stay disinterested and annoyed, the same way he’s been feeling about Jamie since his hand found his way to Honey’s thigh on Friday night.

Honey’s lip curls and her nose crinkles, visibly ruffled. “What’s your problem?”

“Honey,” Bea interrupts, shaking her head with a pointed look. 

Jack throws his arm over the back of Bea’s chair. “No, I want to see this. Give it to him, Honey.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow at Bea when Jack’s fingers brush her shoulder. Trevor notices his arm moving under the table, flexing like he’s reaching for Bea’s leg. Bea shrugs Jack off, pouting at Quinn. Quinn nods at the girl, then brings both his hands to his burger and lifts it to his mouth. He looks up at Honey, chewing. 

“Don’t jump in on this, Jack. It doesn’t involve you,” Honey snaps. “Quickshot.”

Cole’s jaw drops, then he claps both hands over his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut and his shoulders shake with silent laughter. 

“Oh, do you think this is funny?” Honey asks, rounding on Cole. “Do you really believe that your little honky ass is innocent? Should I bring up all the ways you’ve pissed me off these past few weeks?”

Cole freezes, paling.

Trevor knows that he’s only escaping Honey’s wrath temporarily, but it’s still a treat to see. Cole had been on Honey’s nerves since he thought up the whipped cream dare the week before, and Trevor is a little turned on seeing Honey gives Cole his comeuppance. 

“The only people in this house that haven’t pissed me off are Luke and Jamie, and you’re on thin fucking ice because you don’t talk to Jamie either,” Honey continues, pointing a finger at Luke.

He leans back, away from Honey’s finger, looking stunned. 

“Still feeling miserable, Luke?” Honey demands. “Or are things starting to look up for you?”

“Honey,” Bea repeats, harsher this time. She clears her throat, coughing loudly to mask the “enough” that slips from her lips.

Honey glares at Bea.

Now that’s a murderous look that Trevor never wants to receive.

Honey sits back in her chair and bites into her burger, chewing angrily as she places the burger back on her plate. She crosses her arms over her chest, then gestures at Trevor. 

“Jamie has spent more time trying to get to know me, and Bea, in the past two days than any of y’all have in three weeks,” Honey declares. 

Quinn opens his mouth to retort, but Honey holds a finger up to silence him and Bea rests a hand on his. He closes his mouth and goes back to his burger.

“Where am I from, Trevor?” Honey asks, calm and pointed. 

Trevor blinks, taken aback. “Here,” he replies, shrugging obviously. “You’re from Litchton. You’re a townie.”

“No. I’m not.” Honey merely states. She returns to her burger and eats it in silence.

Trevor stares at her, following her movements. His mouth is slightly open and his throat feels sort of dry. 

She’s right, Trevor thinks. I don’t actually know all that much about her.

Honey sneaks a peak at Jamie and smiles at him, then returns to her food.

Trevor pushes his plate even further away, not feeling hungry anymore. Luke grabs it and stacks his plate underneath Trevor’s, doing the same with Cole’s empty dish. He stands and takes their plates to the kitchen, scraping the leftover pieces into the trash and then starting to wash the dishes. 

“You know what we never did,” Bea says, breaking the silence and putting a positive spin on her words. She turns to Jack. “We never played Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

“I could be down for Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Honey says, her voice a bit muffled as she tries to dig food out from between her teeth with her tongue.

“I’ll play too,” Jamie agrees, wiping his lips with a napkin and winking at Honey.

“That’s a really good idea,” Jack says, humming to himself. “I like how you think.”

Trevor doesn’t miss the way Bea glances at Quinn and holds a smile at bay. “Thanks, Jacky.”

Cole claps and stands, pushing his chair back. “I’ll get a bottle.”

“There’s an empty one downstairs,” Honey tells him. “We polished it off during the body shots.”

It’s like she’s trying to rile Trevor up on purpose. She’s sharing looks with Jamie, which makes Trevor want to act out to get her attention. She’s shooting retorts at each of the boys, which is making Trevor a little stiff in his shorts. She’s outspoken, finally coming out of her shell, and it’s affecting him.

But it’s also pissing him off because Trevor doesn’t enjoy being spoken to this way. He doesn’t like being reminded that he’s not doing as much as he could– the fact that he didn’t even know that Honey’s not originally from Litchton is a travesty. What’s next? She has a twin that he doesn’t know about?

And worse, Jamie is putting in the effort. He’s reaping the rewards, too, the rewards that Trevor should receive because he’s the one who flirted with Honey first. He knows that she’s attracted to him. He knows that she wants him. 

Trevor is fuming because she’s pushing her feelings away. Maybe she does think that Jamie is hot, but she’s throwing it back in Trevor’s face and flourishing it in a way that makes Trevor want to tear his hair out. She wanted Trevor first. Why is Jamie making it further than Trevor has? 

Why did Honey invite Jamie on a date instead of Trevor?

A date that Jamie didn’t even tell Trevor about. Trevor might not be talking to Jamie because he went on a date with Honey, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Jamie to tell him what happened on the date.

If he plays Seven Minutes in Heaven, there’s a 15% chance that he’ll get Honey alone, and then he can ask her. And he’ll have Honey alone for seven minutes. 

Trevor’s chubbing up at the thought of it.

“I’ll play,” Trevor adds, belated. Cole already has a foot out of the room and Honey is polishing off her burger. 

She flicks the crumbs off her fingers, in Trevor’s direction. “Joy,” she replies, sarcastic and biting. 

Trevor scowls when she smiles wide at Quinn and he returns the look.

Honey, Bea, Jack, and Quinn head downstairs to the basement to join Cole. Trevor and Jamie help Luke with the rest of the dishes. Luke grabs a beer from the fridge when they’re done and shuffles down the stairs himself, leaving Trevor and Jamie to grab the rest of the drinks.

They fill their arms and Jamie kicks the refrigerator door shut behind them. 

“Hey, man,” Jamie calls.

Trevor stops and turns to him at the top of the stairs. “Yeah?”

“You’ve gotta stop freezing me out. Honey hates it.”

Trevor grinds his teeth. “I don’t like how close you are with her.”

“Dude, I’m only here for a week. You have the whole summer. Me and Honey becoming friends is not the end of the world,” Jamie says, nodding at Trevor. He pushes past Trevor and descends into the basement, leaving Trevor to follow after him.

The crew rearranged the sitting area while the boys did the dishes upstairs. They pushed the coffee table up against the wall and moved the couches back so there’s plenty of room for everyone to sit on the floor. Jack and Cole are missing from the circle.

“Did you start without us?” Trevor asks.

Jamie passes drinks to Honey, Bea, and Quinn, sitting cross-legged in the circle next to Honey. 

Trevor takes the spot next to Luke, almost perfectly across from Honey. 

Bea nods. “Jack and Cole are in the closet.”

As if on cue, Jack storms out of the closet and Cole follows. 

“The whole thing about Seven Minutes in Heaven is that we have seven minutes to do whatever we want in the closet,” Cole carps, trailing just a step behind Jack. “I want to see if you manscaped before you hooked up with Bea!”

“I don’t want to show you my dick,” Jack retorts, plopping down in the circle and taking a beer from Trevor. He twists the cap off and takes a swig.

“Cole, if you spin and get me, I’ll tell you all about it,” Bea promises. “It’s not your turn, though. Jamie, go.”

“You’re so bossy, Bea,” Jamie teases. He spins the bottle in front of him and it nearly lands on the girl he just addressed, but it points to Quinn instead. Good-naturedly, Jamie continues. “Alright, Quinn. Let’s do this thing.”

“Go ahead and start that timer for me, sweet Bea,” Quinn murmurs, pressing a kiss to her cheek before shuffling to his feet. 

Bea glows a little at the contact and Trevor chortles when he sees the little necklace Bea’s wearing. It’s the same kind that Jim uses when he helps the boys train in Michigan. Trevor is not surprised that Quinn had an extra of the same kind lying around, one that he’s now giving to Bea. 

Honey watches the boys walk away, leaning back on one of her hands and taking a sip of her drink. “Do you think they’ll talk at all in there?” She asks, bottom lip still pressed against the mouth of the bottle in her hand.

“No way,” Cole jumps in. “They’re both so quiet.”

“I think they’ll both be very happy to sit in silence,” Bea agrees, sounding fond. “It’ll be a nice break for them.”

“Are you calling us annoying?” Jack teases, grinning at Bea.

“Well…” She trails off, coy.

“You, Cole, and Trevor at least,” Honey finishes, smiling so big that her tongue pokes between her teeth.

“Ha-ha,” Luke laughs, beaming a little.

Jack pouts.

Bea reaches out and pinches Luke’s cheek, which makes him blush and push her away. “Yeah, how could this sweet face be annoying?”

“Alright, cut it out,” Luke groans, but he’s still glowing at the compliment.

Seven minutes passes in a flash and before Trevor knows it, Jamie is putting his arm around Honey and pulling her into his side. She makes herself comfortable there and Trevor clenches his jaw, feeling like he could growl at the sight.

“Who wants to go next?” Jamie asks, looking around the circle.

“I’ll go,” Luke offers, reaching out to spin the bottle.

Mercifully, the neck of the bottle points at Honey and she has to pull away from Jamie. She stands and smooths out her shorts. They’re puffy and Honey can’t fix that, but Trevor loves that they reveal Honey’s long, smooth legs. He wishes that he were the only one in the room with her, selfishly, so that no one else would be able to get any ideas.

Jamie’s staring up at her too, biting his bottom lip and admiring the girl standing above him, and the only thing keeping Trevor from lunging at him is the fact that Luke is entering the closet with Honey instead of Jamie.

Honey holds her hand out for Luke to take. She pulls him to his feet and he stands, the inches he has on Honey seeming to dwarf her. 

“Jesus, you’re tall,” Honey notices, then leads Luke into the closet and shuts the door behind them. 

“Does Honey actually know anything about haircare?” Cole asks Bea, slighting the absent girl.

“She moonlights as a hairdresser,” Bea replies, playing along. “She used to cut my hair when we lived together.”

“You guys used to live together?” Trevor asks, genuinely curious. He can’t imagine that– Honey is independent and quiet, a lover of alone time. Bea is loud and cuddly and just as annoying as Cole, Jack, and Trevor are in her own eyes. 

On second thought, maybe they worked as roommates. Quinn is quiet and independent like Honey, but he’s taken with Bea. Even if she’s hooking up with other guys, it’s clear that she and Quinn have a special relationship.

“Yeah, we slept in the same bed for about a year,” Bea confirms, waving Jack off when his face brightens. “She hogs the covers.”

Bea reminisces for a couple of minutes about the year they spent in Honey’s house. Her stories are broken up by Jack and Cole’s probing questions. The timer goes off as she assures them that yes, she and Honey would make a beautiful pair, but neither of them are interested in each other like that. She calls for Honey and Luke and holds a finger to her lips when Jack goes to rag on the other girl, seeking more details.

“Quit,” Bea tells him. “Or I’m kicking you out of the game.”

Jack clamps his mouth shut and pouts, whining a little.

“I’m going next,” Bea decides, crawling forward to spin the bottle.

Trevor rolls his eyes, not seeing that Honey does the exact same when she sits down. Jack’s mouth quirks in a smirk as he eyes Bea’s chest, missing Quinn’s hand slide up the back of Bea’s thigh and rest just under the hemline of her dress.

Despite the scenarios that are no doubt running through both Hugheses’ minds, the bottle lands on neither of them. 

The mouth of the bottle stares at Cole, who lets a smile creep over his face. He stands and walks over to the closet, swinging the door open and holding it for Bea. “Ma’am,” he teases, sweeping an arm out to further emphasize the doorway.

“Loser,” Bea jibes, but she’s laughing when she hops up and pulls the hem of her dress a little lower. She curtsies when she makes it to Cole, then loops her hand over the collar of his shirt and pulls him into the closet, effectively closing the door behind them. 

Jack grumbles, eying the bottle in front of him. “I feel like that’s pointed more at me than it was at Cole,” he complains.

“Get a grip, dude,” Quinn says. “She’s sleeping with everyone, remember?”

Trevor and Luke laugh out loud, delighted in Quinn’s use of Jack’s own words against him.

Jack is stewing on the spot, clenching his fists and glaring at his older brother. Quinn is smirking and Luke reaches forward, pulling the bottle towards himself and out of the middle of the circle. Jack’s eyes flicker over to Luke, his gaze grim.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Go ahead.”

Jack reaches forward and snags Quinn’s shirt, whereas Quinn traps Jack in a headlock. They squabble and Honey scoots away from the two of them, burrowing into Jamie’s side. Trevor sees red when he wraps his arm around Honey’s waist and lifts her over his lap, setting her on his other side. Honey shrieks a little when she leaves the ground, her eyes wide with surprise when she stares up at Jamie.

Oh, he’s not special, Trevor could shout. I can do that easily!

“Do they do this often?” Honey asks when Luke reaches over and pulls his brothers apart. 

“They’re only allowed to fight if they haven’t gotten over their problem for three or more days,” Luke explains. “Mom didn’t want us to fight at all, but Dad said the forced hugs weren’t cutting it. This is only, like, the fourth time they’ve fought. The fight has a five-minute time limit.”

Quinn snickers, thumbing over his bottom lip and grinning devilishly at Jack. 

Jack is still grumbling, but his attention suddenly catches on the closet door. Bea is stumbling on her feet, holding a hand on the doorknob while her other is looped over Cole’s shoulders.

With all eyes on them, Cole just grins.

“We’re gonna go upstairs for a sec,” Bea says, a bit starry-eyed as she explains herself. Her cheeks are pink and one of her sleeves is slipping down, revealing her bra strap. 

No one speaks, but Cole sticks his tongue out at Jack and wiggles it. He tosses his head back with a laugh, then takes Bea’s hand and pulls her toward the stairs.

“We’ll be back!” Bea calls, allowing herself to be pulled up the stairs and out of sight.

For a moment, the air is still.

Then, Honey starts to giggle. She covers her mouth, but it does very little to muffle the endearing noises she’s omitting. “Didn’t see that coming, huh?” She asks Jack between laughs. “But you don’t see much coming, do you?”

“There’s a reason his nickname is The Cock,” Trevor adds, relishing in Jack’s annoyance. 

Honey’s eyes make their way to Trevor and she’s still giggling. Trevor shares a smile with her, then winks. The moment fades when she buries her face in Jamie’s shirt and Trevor remembers that they’re not the only two in the room.

“Are you calling me stupid?” Jack asks Honey, frowning.

Luke places the bottle back in the middle of the circle.

“No.” Honey shakes her head, blinking innocently at Trevor. “I would never call you stupid.”

Trevor’s breath seems to stop when Honey leans forward and spins the bottle. It spins quick, rattling on the ground before it comes to a stop. 

Honey frowns. “Well, that’s no fun,” she complains. “I don’t want to go in the closet alone.”

Jamie rubs her back. “Spin it again, who gives a shit?” He asks, looking around the circle. “Do any of you care if Honey gets another turn?”

“Why, you hoping it points at you?” Trevor hears himself reply, reaching up to itch his nose. He drops his hand back to his lap and tilts his head at Jamie.

“I should be so lucky,” Jamie replies easily, laying his head atop Honey’s for a moment. “She’s excellent company.”

There’s something about the way he says it. Trevor furrows his eyebrows, looking between Honey and the dark-haired boy. They’re too comfortable together. In an instant, it all clicks. Something happened between them on the hike yesterday.

Honey is already reaching forward to spin the bottle again, but Trevor’s gaze is fixed on Jamie’s. 

The look in Jamie’s eyes is pure arrogance. He’s bragging without saying a word and Trevor can practically hear Jamie’s voice in his head. I know something you don’t.

“Trevor.”

Honey’s soft voice snaps him out of it and her sweet smile causes all his suspicion and anger to fade away. Honey nods toward the bottle.

It’s pointed squarely at Trevor. There’s no question about it. The bottle doesn’t even consider Jack or Luke on either of Trevor’s sides– and Trevor mentally thanks whatever divine being controlled the spin of the bottle.

“This is gonna be funny,” Jack mutters to Jamie, who is now sitting next to him in Cole’s absence. “They’ve been beefing for weeks.”

“Yeah, we hate each other,” Honey agrees, climbing to her feet. “We’re going to pull a Hughes and scuffle for seven minutes.”

“Let us know who wins,” Quinn chirps, grabbing Honey’s hand as she passes him. He tugs her down and she bends at the waist, putting her ear next to his mouth. Trevor climbs to his own feet and catches the word “ankle” as it leaves Quinn’s lips.

Trevor shakes his head, smiling to himself. Honey’s a firecracker, sure, but she’d never actually beat him up.

He pauses, approaching the closet door. Wait.

Maybe she would.

Trevor looks at Honey and finds only sweetness in her eyes. He watches as she casts a look back at Jamie, then taking in the nod from the boy. 

And wouldn’t you know it, he’s mad again. Trevor enters the closet regardless, already feeling a little claustrophobic.

Honey closes the door behind them and plunges them into darkness.

It takes a minute for Trevor’s eyes to adjust. He blinks a few times, then Honey’s figure comes into view. She’s leaning against the back of the door, her arms crossed, and her head is tilted to the side. 

“Are you thinking about the best way to take me down?” Trevor asks. “You look like there’s something on your mind.”

“I’m thinking about what I’m going to do with you,” Honey replies. “You’re being so mean to Jamie. He misses you.”

“I’m not being mean to him,” Trevor argues.

“But you’re not talking to him, either,” Honey says. “He said you asked for him to be here, but now that he’s here, you’re acting like Jack.”

Trevor feels a flash of guilt run through his system and he slouches a bit. She’s right– he hasn’t really protected Jamie from Jack’s ire, but things didn’t seem so bad. Jamie is still hanging out with them. He’s just a quiet guy. He doesn’t really speak unless spoken to, and Trevor is normally the one who speaks to him, but he’s been so mad about Jamie and Honey. Trevor rubs his arm, feeling goosebumps prickle over his skin. 

“Why are you treating him like this?” Honey asks.

Because of you.

Trevor’s mouth opens immediately like he wants to tell his thought to Honey, but he knows it’s not a good enough explanation for the girl. She’ll resent it, even, that Trevor is treating his best friend poorly because of her.

“He got to touch you,” Trevor says.

Honey makes a face and a disapproving noise.

“He got to touch you the way I want to,” Trevor tries again. “He got to spend time alone with you.”

“Oh,” Honey breathes out, straightening up from the door. 

“Honey, I want that.” Trevor steps forward. He searches her face for discomfort, any sign that he’s going too far. “If you really want Jamie,” he says, forcing his words out. His throat feels like it’s closing up. “Then I want you to have him. I would be a bad friend if I got between you and him. Honey, I just–”

Trevor cuts himself off with a shake of his head. He looks down and runs his fingers through his hair, grinding his teeth.

“You what?” Honey asks, so quiet that Trevor can barely hear her. Her eyebrows are curved in concern and there’s dislike tugging at the corner of her lips. 

Trevor’s hands fall helplessly to his sides. He wishes he could touch Honey, that he could intertwine their fingers to ground himself.

“I thought you wanted me,” Trevor mutters, feeling his cheeks turn red at the admission. He cringes, squeezing his eyes shut. “I thought you lied the other day and that you were just holding back, but now you’re all close with Jamie and I guess I was wrong. I was wrong to assume there was something between us.”

“Trevor,” Honey laments. His eyes shoot open when the pads of her fingers come into contact with his hand and he’s surprised by how close she is. She looks sad, so sad, and Trevor mistakes her look for pity.

“I’m sorry about… all this,” Trevor says, looking away from Honey. He can’t meet her eyes like this. 

“Don’t be,” Honey says. She runs her thumb over his and the movement makes Trevor shiver. 

He pulls away. “But I was wrong, and more wrong to act the way I’ve been acting.” Trevor looks up to the ceiling, biting his tongue in hopes that the sharp pain will distract him from how foolish he feels.

Honey’s hands find him again, curving over his waist. They’re warm as they run down towards his hips and it makes Trevor squirm.

“You weren’t wrong,” Honey whispers. She shakes her head. 

Trevor’s eyes snap to hers. 

“You weren’t wrong,” She repeats now that she has his attention. 

Trevor feels her hands move again, her fingers inching into his waistband just like they did over a week ago. They’re just as delicate and careful, the pressure light enough that Trevor wants to beg her for more, but his voice is caught in his chest. He looks down, losing his breath at the sight of her fingers hooking over his shorts, tugging at them.

Honey drops to her knees effortlessly and Trevor gasps like he’s been shocked by an AED. 

Maybe he is being shocked by an AED. Maybe he died and they’re trying to bring him back to life. 

Honey tugs at Trevor’s shorts, inching them lower. 

He’s motionless, absolutely powerless when it comes to Honey. He can’t move. He’s frozen in place.

“What are you doing?” Trevor chokes out. One of his hands finds the shelf of board games next to him, scrambling for something to ground himself.

“I thought this was what you wanted,” Honey says. She blinks up at Trevor through her eyelashes.

Trevor can see down her tank top. The space between her tits is like a void and Trevor is tumbling deeper and deeper into it. There’s no saving him. He might permanently warp the wood of the shelf with how hard he’s gripping it.

“You–” Trevor’s voice is high. He coughs. “I–”

“Have you thought about it?” Honey asks, tilting her head and licking her lips. “Did you think about this after Cole’s dare?”

Trevor can only nod. He didn’t think about this, but he thought about Honey. He dreamt about her. He yearned to feel her hands on him again, her tongue on his skin or in his mouth, but he never thought it would go down like this.

“We should thank him, really,” Honey says like an afterthought, her eyes raking down Trevor’s body until they fix on the tent in his shorts. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to do this that night.”

She leans closer, brushing her lips in an almost non-existent kiss over the front of Trevor’s shorts.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Honey continues. One of her hands inches toward Trevor’s bulge and he lets out an involuntary whimper, biting hard on his lower lip. Honey looks up at Trevor again and he wishes the lights were on so he could see her better. Her eyes are bright in the darkness, shining with desire, and Trevor might die. “Are you going to let me blow you, Trevor?”

Trevor keens, nodding. “Yes,” he gasps out. 

A smile creeps onto Honey’s face and she stares up at him for a second. She almost looks evil, drinking him in like a succubus.

But then her attention turns back to Trevor’s cock, so hard that he’s leaking from the tip and certainly moistening the fabric of his underwear. Honey drags his shorts down to his ankles, capturing the head of his cock in her mouth as soon as she frees him from the confines of his clothes.

Trevor groans, his mouth dropping open at the feeling of Honey’s warm, wet mouth closing around him. He almost weeps when she pulls away.

“You have to be quiet, Trevor,” Honey chastises. “The boys are just on the other side of the door.”

Trevor nods helplessly, unable to deny Honey. He wants this so bad. He’s needed her since the second he bumped into her at the fruit stand, scrolling on his phone and not paying attention. He’d do anything for her to take his cock in her mouth again.

Her hand finds his base, squeezing his shaft and pumping it in an easy rhythm. She traces the head of his cock over her bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth, and a little precum blurts out of his slit. She spreads the precum along her lips like a coat of lipgloss, then Honey’s tongue pokes out and licks the salty liquid away, closing her eyes and moaning lowly at the taste.

Trevor’s knees shake a little. If he wasn’t holding himself up, he’d collapse right on top of her.

“Tastes good,” Honey murmurs. For a second, Trevor feels like he’s impeding, like he wasn’t supposed to hear that, like he’s not supposed to be here– because this can’t be real.

All of those feelings fade away when Honey takes him in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sucking him in. Trevor’s other hand lurches forward like a marionette and he gathers Honey’s hair into a makeshift ponytail. He needs to see her face. He needs to see her eyes.

As if Honey knows what he’s thinking, her irises find his face. Trevor is stunned by how blown out her pupils are. They’re dark and wide and swirling with lust. Trevor loses himself, feeling his hips stutter forward.

Honey takes as much of him as she can, gagging on the length in her throat. Her gag squeezes Trevor and he whimpers, pulling on her hair. He’s close, he’s so close even though it’s been only a minute or two since Honey attached herself to his cock.

“Honey, fuck, I’m going to come,” Trevor whines, struggling to stay still and let her control the pace.

Honey pulls off, a line of saliva tying her mouth to Trevor’s dripping length. It breaks as she continues to pump him, thumbing over the tip of his cock. “Isn’t that the point?” She asks. She plants a chaste kiss over his slit, kitten-licking the opening with little flicks of the tip of her tongue.

Trevor groans, trying to keep his voice low like she wanted, but he’s not doing the best job. He brings his hand to his mouth and bites his knuckle, just as Honey lowers her head back down. She bobs on his length, sucking harshly and swirling her tongue in all the right ways to make Trevor unravel. As she lays her other hand on Trevor’s thigh, Trevor loses his breath. He pitches forward, shaking underneath her touch as he comes. Her thumb on his thigh is his anchor, keeping him from passing away then and there.

Marvelously, just when Trevor thinks that things can’t get any better, Honey swallows his come like she’d been starving. 

Trevor is speechless, unable to look away from Honey. He’s never come like that before, never been so completely overtaken by an orgasm that he can’t speak. 

Honey smirks and licks her lips, wiping her thumb on the sides of her mouth to clean up any stray fluids.

Trevor’s eyes are fixed on her mouth, her beautiful, beautiful mouth.

He sinks to his knees like he’s melting and plants his hands on her body, one on her waist and one cupping her jaw. He kisses her with everything he has, licking into her mouth and tasting himself until he’s breathless and lightheaded and has to pull away. Stars dance across his vision, framing Honey’s face. 

She’s dazzling. Trevor can barely remember that there was a time when he didn’t know she existed. He can’t imagine a time after her. He’s stuck in the current moment, where Honey is absolutely everything, and he leans in to kiss her again.

Honey presses a hand to his mouth, keeping him in place. 

Trevor’s lips are pursed in a kiss against her fingers and he frowns. 

“You need to pull your pants up before they open the door,” Honey tells him.

It’s like whiplash. Trevor feels slapped across the face by how quickly she recovered after that blowjob. He’s still moving slowly, like he’s not in control of all of his muscles because they’re so relaxed, but Honey is making her way to her feet. 

Trevor scrambles to meet her, rising to his normal height and bringing his bottoms with him. He tucks himself away and straightens his clothing. He watches Honey flick her hair out of her face and pull the strap of her tank top back into place. Trevor follows her hand, daring to look a little lower. He nearly drools at the sight of Honey’s hard nipples poking against the fabric of her top. 

Honey snaps her fingers in front of Trevor’s face. He’s dazed, but meets her eyes.

“This never happened,” Honey tells him, voice hard. She tilts her head down, prompting Trevor. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Trevor nods, feeling far away. Whatever Honey wants.

“Trevor,” Honey groans, reaching up to fix his hair. “I’m serious. You can’t tell the boys.”

“I won’t,” Trevor agrees, leaning into her touch. He’ll do anything Honey asks, just as long as he gets to kiss her again. He’d chop his hand off right now if that’s what she wanted, just so he could get another taste of her sweetness. He stares at her lips, truly stares, leaning forward again. He’s a breath away from her mouth when she pulls back, stepping away.

Trevor actually whines like a child at the loss of her. His hands feel empty without her skin underneath his palms and he’s running cold as her warmth steps away.

Honey shows him a little mercy with a slight smile and a breath of a laugh. “Pull yourself together, Trevor,” she says, a playful lilt in her tone. “You’re a mess.”

Jamie calls for Honey on the other side of the door and she opens it, the light stunning Trevor. It snaps him back into reality and the gravity of the situation dawns on him as he takes in the fluorescent light. He just came down Honey’s throat in a dark closet and kissed her so hard that his lips might be bruised and swollen. 

Then he agreed not to tell anyone, because he was so drunk on Honey that he lost control of himself.

Honey’s fine, seamlessly fitting back into the group and telling Quinn that she was the obvious winner of her and Trevor’s scuffle. She doesn’t give Trevor a second look.

He’s so fucked.