#friends to lovers will never not get to me

[goldfades]

★ 'cause she's watching him with those eyes / and she's loving him with that body, i just know it / and he's holding her in his arms late, late at night / you know, i wish that i had jessie's girl / i wish that i had jessie's girl / where can i find a woman like that? ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 18k (a lot more than i expected...)

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | a college student navigates her complicated feelings for her charming yet infuriating neighbor, joe burrow, while dating the seemingly perfect linebacker. after a series of missteps, flirtatious teasing, and an unexpected kiss, she finds herself caught in a whirlwind of tension, confusion, and unexpected sparks, all while trying to avoid the loud, chaotic presence of joe and his ever-constant parade of girls.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | unedited (sorry... i got lazy), NSFW (with lots... and lots... AND LOTS of plot), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it, kids) praise, teasing, lots of kissing/foreplay, p in v, uhhh.. descriptions of big dick joe??? enemies to lovers, roommates, mentions of drinking/alcohol, cheating (not on reader), joe being an asshole, cocky joe, lots of fighting, heated arguments.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this has been in my drafts for a good 2 months and finally decided to finish it up on the sunday before american thanksgiving! so... yaya! please let me know your thoughts!

The muffled sound of Ja’Marr Chase���s bass-heavy playlist seeps through the thin walls of your apartment, rattling the picture frames you swore you hung up straight last week. The tiny LSU apartment complex, with its peeling beige paint and eternally broken elevator, has its charms—like the way the front door doesn’t lock unless you kick it just right or how the air conditioner only works when it’s below 70 degrees outside.

But Joe Burrow? He’s not one of those charms.

No, Joe Burrow is the bane of your existence, the human equivalent of a pothole on a road you have to take every day. His name alone makes your best friend, Ella, roll her eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck in the back of her head. “Just ignore him,” she says every time you come storming through the door, ranting about whatever fresh annoyance he’s cooked up that day. “He only bothers you because you’re fun to mess with.”

Right. Like that’s supposed to make it better.

Living next door to Joe and Ja’Marr was tolerable at first. Sure, they were loud, occasionally messy, and probably violating a dozen lease terms, but it wasn’t personal. Then, you had one small misunderstanding—okay, so maybe you yelled at Joe for leaving his bike in front of your door after you tripped over it—and now it’s like he’s made it his life’s mission to drive you insane.

Sometimes, it’s harmless: an obnoxious smirk when you cross paths on the way to class or his sarcastic comments about how you always seem to be spilling coffee on your shirt. Other times, it’s borderline infuriating: stealing your parking spot, taking the last box of cinnamon rolls at the grocery store, or claiming the shared apartment complex grill for “official game day business” every single Saturday.

Still, there’s something annoyingly magnetic about him, even when you want to wring his neck. The way his eyes crinkle when he’s laughing at his own jokes. The stupid mop of curls he somehow manages to pull off. The effortless confidence that borders on cocky, though you’d never say it out loud because that’s exactly the kind of thing that would go straight to his head.

Ella always jokes that you two are like an old married couple, constantly bickering but secretly loving it. You disagree. Mostly because Joe already has enough people falling at his feet—like the swarm of girls in purple-and-gold jerseys who show up at the apartment complex every other week, giggling like they’re auditioning for a reality show.

You sigh, brushing a stray crumb off the countertop as Ella flops onto the couch behind you, textbook in hand. And if his stupid grin when he sees you on your balcony later tonight is any indication, he’s already got something planned.

You just don’t know it yet.

The parking lot outside your apartment complex is a war zone at 11 p.m., with far too many cars crammed into a space that was clearly designed with only half the residents in mind. You circle the lot for the third time, your headlights cutting through the dark like a searchlight on some hopeless mission. After eight grueling hours at the campus library helping undergrads figure out why their printers are possessed, your brain feels like oatmeal, and all you want is to collapse into your bed.

But, of course, tonight isn’t going to be that simple.

Because there he is. Joe freaking Burrow.

He’s in his Jeep—windows down, music playing softly, and, naturally, there’s a blonde perched in the passenger seat laughing at something he said. Of course, he found the last available spot. Except—it’s not his spot, because you saw it first. Your blinker’s been on since the beginning of time (or at least the last 30 seconds), and you refuse to back down now.

Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as he slowly starts to reverse into the spot, like he hasn’t noticed your very obvious claim to it. Heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and indignation, you tap your horn. Just once. Polite, but firm. He stops, glances in his rearview mirror, and then—of course—he smirks.

Oh, hell no.

You roll down your window and lean out. “Hey, Burrow! I was waiting for that spot.”

He leans his elbow casually against the window frame, his curls catching the faint glow of the streetlight. “Were you? Didn’t see your name on it.” His voice is slow, lazy, like he’s got all the time in the world to be a pain in your ass.

You glare at him, barely suppressing the urge to snap. “I was here first.”

“And I started reversing first,” he counters, raising an eyebrow like it’s a debate class and not a parking lot at nearly midnight. The blonde giggles beside him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Just let me have it. You look like you could use the exercise.”

Oh, he’s done it now.

“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you’re too far gone to care. “I’ve been on my feet for eight hours dealing with entitled freshmen, and if you think I’m about to let you—”

“Alright, alright,�� Joe interrupts, hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m not trying to ruin your night.” He throws the Jeep into drive, and with a dramatic sigh, he pulls away, leaving the spot open for you. But not without one last parting comment. “Don’t scratch the paint when you park. Oh, wait—you’re really close to that pole—”

You park with excessive precision, throwing your car into park before leaning out the window to call after him. “I didn’t ask for your help, Joe!”

His laugh echoes across the parking lot, carefree and infuriating. You slam your door shut a little harder than necessary, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you trudge toward the building. Finally, peace.

Or so you think.

Because just as you reach the elevator, its ding announcing its arrival, you hear the telltale sound of sneakers scuffing against concrete and—because your luck is absolute trash—Joe freaking Burrow strolls in behind you, Blonde Giggles McGee still glued to his side.

“Hey, neighbor,” he says casually, stepping into the elevator with you like he didn’t just steal and relinquish a parking spot out of sheer pettiness. The blonde gives you a wide, vaguely clueless smile, her gum snapping between her teeth.

You press the button for the third floor with a pointed jab and cross your arms, leaning against the elevator wall as Joe and his date take their sweet time figuring out which floor they’re going to. The door finally slides shut, and the tension in the small space is unbearable.

“So,” the blonde says brightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “you guys, like, live here? That’s so fun! Like, neighbors and stuff. Wow.”

Your lips press into a tight smile, trying to avoid eye contact with Joe, who you can feel grinning at you like this is the highlight of his week. “Yep. Fun,” you reply curtly, forcing the word out like it’s laced with acid.

Joe’s shoulders shake slightly, and you realize he’s laughing. He glances at you, and there’s that damn smirk again, like he knows exactly how close you are to losing it. “She’s real talkative tonight,” he says, tilting his head toward you. “Usually, she’s got more to say.”

You turn to him with a withering glare. “Don’t you have something else to do, Burrow?”

Before he can reply, the elevator lurches slightly as it comes to a stop on your floor. You step out quickly, muttering a polite “Good night” that is entirely devoid of warmth. Joe follows, his pace annoyingly casual as he throws one last look over his shoulder.

“See you around, neighbor,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You don’t look back.

The smell of cheap ramen hits you the moment you open the door to your apartment. It’s comforting, in a way—familiar, like Ella’s answer to every late-night craving or bad day. She’s in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove, barefoot and wearing the oversized LSU sweatshirt you’d bought together during freshman year.

“You’re late,” she says without looking up, her voice light with mock reproach. “Was the library on fire, or did you stop to fight Burrow in the parking lot again?”

You kick off your shoes with a sigh, tossing your bag onto the couch. “Option B. Obviously.”

That gets her attention. She turns, spoon in hand, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? It’s, like, midnight. You two are going to give each other aneurysms before graduation.”

You slump into one of the kitchen chairs, letting your forehead hit the table dramatically. “He stole my parking spot. Had the audacity to smirk about it, too. And then—get this—I got stuck in the elevator with him and some girl who wouldn’t stop talking about how ‘fun’ it is to have neighbors.” You lift your head to glare at Ella, who is now struggling to hold back a laugh. “I’m cursed. That man is my curse.”

Ella snorts, pouring the ramen into two mismatched bowls. “He’s not your curse. He’s just a guy with too much charm and not enough common sense. And clearly, you’re living rent-free in his head, which, honestly, is kind of impressive considering he’s got a playbook in there.”

You accept the bowl she slides across the table, your stomach growling despite your lingering irritation. “I don’t want to live in his head. I want him to stop being so… so Joe all the time.”

Ella sits across from you, propping her chin in her hand with a sly grin. “Are you sure? You seem to spend a lot of time talking about him.”

You glare at her over a mouthful of noodles. “Don’t start.”

But she’s already started, her grin widening. “I’m just saying, it’s giving sexual tension.”

You nearly choke, coughing as you wave her off. “Nope. Absolutely not. There’s no tension. Only irritation. And rage. And an overwhelming desire to see him move to a different apartment complex.”

Ella laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Whatever you say, babe. But for the record, I think you secretly enjoy it.”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can form a retort, there’s a knock at the door. Both of you freeze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You expecting someone?” Ella whispers, her tone suddenly conspiratorial.

“No,” you whisper back, your heart sinking as a horrible suspicion creeps over you.

Ella gestures for you to check, and with a deep, resigned breath, you shuffle to the door, bowl still in hand. You crack it open just enough to see who’s on the other side, and—because the universe apparently hates you—there he is. Joe Burrow, in all his smug, infuriating glory, holding a box of cinnamon rolls.

“Hey, neighbor,” he says, his grin infuriatingly wide. “Figured I owed you something for stealing your spot.”

You stare at him, speechless, for a moment. Then, finally, you manage, “It’s 11:30 at night.”

He shrugs, as if that’s a perfectly reasonable time for a peace offering. “Better late than never, right?”

From behind you, Ella’s voice rings out, barely containing her amusement. “Is that Joe? Invite him in!”

You turn to glare at her, silently vowing revenge, but when you look back at Joe, he’s already stepping inside like he owns the place.

“Nice place,” he says, glancing around before holding up the box. “So… cinnamon roll?”

You sigh, shutting the door behind him. It’s going to be a long night.

Joe leans casually against the counter, still holding the box of cinnamon rolls like he’s been invited to stay for a late-night hangout. You narrow your eyes at him, folding your arms. “So, what’s this about, really? Cinnamon rolls aren’t exactly your style.”

“Wow, judgmental much?” he says with a mock-wounded expression. “What if I just wanted to be neighborly?”

Ella snickers softly behind you, spooning up her ramen as she watches the exchange like it’s prime-time TV.

Joe grins, ignoring your skepticism. “Actually,” he says, setting the box on the counter with a little too much flourish, “I’m out of sugar. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

You blink at him, incredulous. “Sugar? You came over at almost midnight to borrow sugar?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the “p” for emphasis, completely unbothered by your glare.

Ella, ever the peacemaker—or enabler, depending on the situation—sets her bowl down and gets up to rummage through the cabinets. “We’ve got some,” she says reluctantly, pulling out a small bag. She walks over and places it in Joe’s outstretched hand, but not without narrowing her eyes at him. “You better bring this back, Burrow. Or at least repay us with something better than cinnamon rolls.”

“Noted,” he says with a charming smile, tucking the bag under his arm. He turns to you, his grin softening into something almost teasing. “Thanks, neighbor. You’re a real lifesaver.”

You don’t bother replying, instead stepping aside so he can leave. He makes his way to the door, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and don’t forget to check your parking job in the morning,” he says with a wink before slipping out into the hallway.

The second the door clicks shut, you groan, slumping against the counter. Ella bursts into laughter, practically doubling over as she grabs her bowl again. “You two are ridiculous,” she says between bites.

“I’m moving out,” you mutter, dragging yourself to the couch. “I don’t care if it’s to a cardboard box in the quad. It’ll be quieter than this.”

You think that’s the end of it—Joe’s random sugar-borrowing adventure, Ella’s endless teasing—but of course, you’re wrong. Because a few hours later, just as you’re finally starting to drift off in the tiny bedroom you call your sanctuary, you hear it.

A muffled giggle. A low, rumbling voice you’d recognize anywhere. Then, unmistakably, the rhythmic creak of a bed frame against the wall.

Your eyes snap open, and for a moment, you pray you’re imagining things. Maybe it’s a nightmare—a cruel joke your overtired brain is playing on you. But then you hear it again, louder this time, followed by a very enthusiastic “Oh my God, Joey!”

You groan, grabbing your pillow and pressing it over your ears.

From the other side of the wall, Ella’s muffled voice reaches you through the darkness. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” you hiss, your voice barely audible through the pillow. “It’s him.”

She snorts, and you can hear her shifting in her bed. “Well, at least he’s getting good use out of that sugar.”

You let out a strangled laugh, torn between exhaustion and disbelief. “I swear, if this goes on all night—”

As if on cue, there’s another creak, louder this time, followed by more giggling and exaggerated moaning.

Ella sighs. “Thin walls, huh?”

“Apparently,” you mutter, rolling onto your side and glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended you.

The noises continue—giggles, muffled moans, the occasional thud that makes you wince. You bury your face in your pillow, silently cursing Joe Burrow and his audacity.

It’s going to be a very, very long night.

The next morning comes too soon. Despite the symphony of creaks, giggles, and thuds that plagued the night, you manage to drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and cranky. The coffee pot sputters as you pour yourself a life-saving cup, muttering curses at your neighbor under your breath. Ella, still in her pajamas, watches you from the couch with an amused smirk.

“You look alive,” she teases, spooning cereal into her mouth. “Barely.”

“I hate him,” you say flatly, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Sure you do,” she singsongs.

You don’t dignify her with a response, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

As luck—or fate—would have it, the universe isn’t done with you yet. Because just as you’re locking your apartment door, you hear the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.

You glance over your shoulder and immediately regret it.

There she is. Last night’s Blonde of the Hour, strutting toward the elevator with a walk of shame so confident it might as well be a victory lap. She’s wearing Joe’s oversized LSU hoodie, paired with last night’s skirt and heels. Her hair is tousled, but she doesn’t seem to care.

And because the universe apparently has a sense of humor, she notices you at the same time you notice her.

“Morning!” she chirps, her voice way too chipper for someone who clearly didn’t sleep much.

You press your lips together to keep from laughing, nodding in acknowledgment. “Morning.”

The two of you step into the elevator together, the silence stretching awkwardly between you. You steal a glance at her from the corner of your eye, wondering if she has any idea that her night of “fun” ruined yours. But then she sighs and adjusts the sleeves of Joe’s hoodie, completely unbothered, and you realize she probably doesn’t care.

The doors slide open to the lobby, and you step out first, your pace brisk as you make a beeline for the exit. But as you push through the glass doors into the bright morning sunlight, you nearly collide with none other than Joe Burrow himself.

He’s leaning against his car, coffee cup in hand, looking far too put together for someone who should be as tired as you. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, then flick over to the blonde trailing behind.

“Morning, neighbor,” he says, his voice laced with amusement.

“Morning,” you reply dryly, brushing past him toward your car.

But of course, he can’t just let it go. “Sleep well?”

You stop dead in your tracks, turning to glare at him. His smirk is infuriatingly smug, and you can’t tell if he’s genuinely clueless or just messing with you.

“Thin walls,” you say pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk falters for half a second before he recovers, lifting his coffee cup in a mock toast. “Noted.”

The blonde, oblivious to the tension, giggles. “Joe, you didn’t tell me your neighbors were so fun!”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead unlocking your car with more force than necessary. “Oh, we’re a blast,” you mutter under your breath, sliding into the driver’s seat.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you catch a glimpse of Joe in your rearview mirror, still leaning against his car, watching you leave. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—amusement, maybe, or curiosity—but you don’t have the energy to figure it out.

Later that afternoon, when you’re back in your apartment trying to catch up on work, Ella pops her head into the living room with a mischievous grin.

“Guess who I ran into at the coffee shop?”

You glance up warily. “Who?”

“Joe,” she says, plopping down on the couch. “He said he’s planning a little ‘building mixer’ this weekend. Invited everyone on the floor. Including us.”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the couch. “No. Absolutely not. I am not going to some Burrow-hosted mixer.”

“Oh, come on,” Ella says, nudging you with her foot. “It could be fun. Free food, free drinks… awkward encounters with your mortal enemy…”

You glare at her, but she just laughs. “You’re going,” she says firmly. “I already RSVP’d for us.”

And just like that, you realize your week is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Saturday night rolls around faster than you’d like, and with it comes the so-called “mixer” that Joe Burrow somehow convinced Ella you had to attend. You’d held onto the slim hope that it would be a small, quiet gathering of your neighbors in the building, with maybe some snacks, polite small talk, and an early exit for you.

Instead, you step off the elevator into what can only be described as chaos. The hallway is packed with people, the distant thrum of music vibrating through the walls. Someone’s yelling about finding the keg, and the faint scent of spilled beer and cologne wafts toward you.

“This is not a mixer,” you mutter to Ella as you both navigate your way through the crowd.

Ella, of course, looks thrilled. She’s dolled up in a crop top and high-waisted jeans, her hair and makeup perfectly done. “Relax,” she says, looping her arm through yours. “It’s just a party. Have a drink, let loose. Who knows? You might even have fun.”

You highly doubt that, but before you can argue, she spots Ja’Marr Chase leaning against the doorway to Joe’s apartment and perks up immediately. “I’ll catch up with you later!” she says, already untangling herself from your arm and heading toward him.

“Ella!” you call after her, but she’s too busy tossing a flirty smile Ja’Marr’s way to notice.

Great. Now you’re alone in the middle of a party that feels like half of LSU showed up to, surrounded by strangers and sticky floors. You push your way toward the kitchen, hoping to grab a drink and then find a corner to blend into until Ella decides it’s time to leave.

But, because the universe apparently loves messing with you, you hear his voice before you see him.

“Well, well, look who decided to show up.”

You groan internally and turn to see Joe leaning against the counter, a Solo cup in hand and that ever-present smirk on his face. He’s dressed casually in a fitted t-shirt and jeans, but somehow still manages to look like he owns the place—which, technically, he does.

“I’m only here because Ella dragged me,” you say, crossing your arms. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Joe chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. “Come on, admit it. You’re having the time of your life.”

“Yeah, sure,” you deadpan. “Sticky floors and loud music are exactly my idea of fun.”

He grins, clearly enjoying your irritation. “You know, if you wanted to hang out with me so badly, you could’ve just asked. No need to pretend Ella dragged you here.”

“I—” You stop yourself, realizing there’s no point in arguing. It’s exactly what he wants. Instead, you grab a bottle of water from the counter and turn to leave.

“Hey, hold up,” he says, stepping in front of you. “You’re not just gonna drink water all night, are you?”

“Yes, Joe, I am,” you say, trying to sidestep him, but he moves to block you.

“At least let me get you a real drink,” he says, gesturing toward the makeshift bar someone set up on the other side of the room. “I make a mean rum and Coke.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he says, stepping aside, but not before adding, “But you’re missing out. My bartending skills are unmatched.”

You roll your eyes and head toward the living room, finding a spot near the wall where you can observe without being dragged into the chaos. You sip your water and watch as Joe works the room, effortlessly charming everyone he talks to.

About an hour later, you’re starting to regret not leaving when Ella abandoned you. You’ve been stuck making awkward small talk with strangers, and the music is only getting louder.

Then Ella appears out of nowhere, grabbing your arm with a giggle. “Come with me,” she says, pulling you toward the corner where Joe and some of his teammates are lounging on a worn-out sectional.

“Why?” you ask, resisting her tug.

“Because Ja’Marr wants to introduce me to his friends, and I don’t want to go alone!”

You sigh, reluctantly following her over. Ja’Marr greets Ella with a grin, and she practically melts under his attention. You, on the other hand, find yourself stuck sitting next to Joe, who looks far too pleased about the arrangement.

“Miss me already?” he asks, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music.

“Not even a little,” you reply, glaring at him.

He chuckles, clearly unbothered. “You’re really bad at hiding how much you enjoy my company, you know that?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, one of his teammates interrupts. “Yo, Burrow, who’s this?”

“This,” Joe says, gesturing toward you with a dramatic flourish, “is my lovely neighbor.”

“Neighbor, huh?” the guy says, raising an eyebrow. “You two seem… close.”

You snort. “Not even remotely.”

Joe grins, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind you. “Don’t listen to her,” he says. “She’s just shy.”

You shoot him a withering look, but he only laughs, clearly enjoying himself.

As the night drags on, Joe makes it his personal mission to annoy you. Every time you try to leave, he finds a way to pull you back into the conversation, teasing you relentlessly. His teammates, to their credit, seem amused by the dynamic, occasionally chiming in with their own jokes.

By the time Ella finally decides she’s ready to leave, you’re exhausted—physically and emotionally. You practically sprint for the door, eager to escape Joe’s smirk and the endless teasing.

As you step into the hallway, he calls after you, “See you around, neighbor!”

You don’t bother responding, instead dragging Ella toward the elevator. But as you press the button for your floor, you can’t help but feel like you haven’t seen the last of Joe Burrow tonight—or any night, for that matter.

The next week at LSU passes like any other, but somehow, Joe Burrow has managed to worm his way into your daily routine. It starts small—running into him at the mailboxes, hearing his muffled laughter through the thin walls at ungodly hours, and the occasional “good morning, neighbor!” shouted across the courtyard when you’re clearly not in the mood.

It’s maddening, really, the way he seems to delight in being everywhere you don’t want him to be. And yet, despite your annoyance, you can’t deny that his presence makes life just a little more… interesting.

FRIDAY NIGHT

Ella bursts through the apartment door, her face lit up with excitement. You’re sprawled on the couch, flipping through lecture notes and wishing the week would end already.

“Guess what!” she exclaims, tossing her bag onto the counter.

“Let me guess,” you say dryly. “Ja’Marr invited you to another party?”

“Close,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Ja’Marr and Joe are throwing a tailgate tomorrow before the game, and we’re invited.”

You groan, already dreading the idea of spending yet another afternoon dodging Joe’s incessant teasing. “I’m busy,” you lie.

“You’re coming,” Ella insists, plopping down next to you. “It’s practically a campus tradition, and besides, you could use a little fun.”

“Fun,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling being forced to socialize with half of LSU now?”

Ella rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Food, drinks, and—” she grins mischievously—“a chance to hang out with your favorite quarterback.”

You glare at her. “Joe Burrow is not my favorite anything.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not believing you. “Wear something cute. We’re leaving at noon.”

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

The tailgate is, unsurprisingly, a spectacle. Rows of tents stretch across the field, decked out in purple and gold, with grills smoking and music blasting. Students and alumni alike mill about, laughing and chatting as they gear up for the game.

You follow Ella through the crowd, clutching a plastic cup of soda and trying to blend in. She, of course, makes a beeline for Ja’Marr, who’s manning the grill with an ease that suggests he’s done this a thousand times.

And where there’s Ja’Marr, there’s Joe.

He spots you almost immediately, his trademark smirk spreading across his face as he waves you over. “Hey, neighbor! Glad you could make it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, but he’s already stepping closer, his easy confidence making it impossible to ignore him.

“What, no hug?” he teases, holding his arms out dramatically.

“Not in this lifetime,” you reply, sidestepping him.

Ella, now fully engrossed in a conversation with Ja’Marr, leaves you to fend for yourself. You glance around, debating whether to make a run for it, but Joe blocks your path, clearly amused by your discomfort.

“You’re really bad at this whole socializing thing, aren’t you?” he says, leaning casually against the nearest table.

“Maybe I just don’t enjoy your company,” you retort, taking a sip of your drink.

He grins. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.”

Before you can respond, one of his teammates calls his name, distracting him long enough for you to slip away. You find a quieter spot near the edge of the field, letting the noise of the crowd fade into the background.

But, of course, Joe finds you again.

“Thought you’d try to escape, huh?” he says, appearing at your side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I wasn’t escaping,” you lie, crossing your arms.

“Sure you weren’t.” He pauses, glancing at the crowd. “Not a fan of tailgates?”

“Not a fan of crowds,” you admit.

He nods, surprisingly serious for once. “Fair enough. They’re not for everyone.”

You glance at him, caught off guard by the genuine tone in his voice. It’s a rare moment of sincerity from someone who seems to live for getting under your skin.

And then, just as quickly, the moment passes.

“Still,” he says, his smirk returning, “you’ve got to admit, the food’s pretty good. Ja’Marr’s burgers? Best on campus.”

The party stretched well into the night, turning the once-bustling tailgate into a dimly lit, hazy scene of music, laughter, and scattered conversations. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated these kinds of events. The air was warm, the smell of grilled food and spilled beer thick, but for once, you weren’t faking a smile just to survive.

Instead, you were leaning against a folding chair near the makeshift DJ booth, chatting with a guy named Wes. He was a linebacker for LSU, though, by his own admission, mostly a benchwarmer. Shy, soft-spoken, and refreshingly normal, Wes wasn’t at all what you expected to find at a party like this.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to Mike’s cage?” he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.

You laughed. “I don’t know, it just never seemed like a big deal to me. It’s a tiger.”

His eyes widened in mock offense. “It’s not just a tiger. It’s our tiger.”

“Okay, okay, maybe I’ll check it out sometime,” you said, grinning at his enthusiasm.

From the corner of your eye, you caught movement, and instinctively, you glanced over. There, leaning against the bar table, was Joe.

His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his jaw was tight, and his eyes were fixed on you and Wes.

The sight of his uncharacteristically cold expression sent a jolt through you. Was he annoyed? No, that didn’t make sense. He didn’t care about you, not really.

Wes was saying something about the tiger habitat, but your attention flickered back to Joe. His knuckles whitened around the edge of his red Solo cup, and he seemed to be muttering something to Ja’Marr, who only shrugged in response.

“Everything okay?” Wes asked, his brow furrowed as he followed your gaze.

You blinked, forcing yourself to refocus. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

Joe, however, was impossible to ignore. At one point, he stormed past your little corner of the party, brushing close enough that you could feel the heat of his arm against yours.

Wes had just finished telling a story about his first LSU practice, his nervous laughter making you smile, when Joe’s voice cut through the conversation like a jagged knife.

“Nice to see you making friends,” he said, his tone just sharp enough to raise the hairs on your neck.

You turned to find Joe standing a few feet away, his trademark smirk forced and strained. He wasn’t looking at you but at Wes, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, Burrow,” Wes said, his voice even but noticeably quieter.

Joe stepped closer, ignoring you entirely as he clapped Wes on the shoulder. “Wesley Evans, right? Linebacker extraordinaire.” His words were light, almost teasing, but there was a strange undertone to them.

“Uh, yeah,” Wes said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Though ‘extraordinaire’ might be a bit of a stretch.”

Joe chuckled, his laugh cold. “Oh, come on. Don’t sell yourself short. I mean, someone’s got to keep the bench warm, right?”

The group went silent.

You froze, your stomach dropping as the words settled over the conversation like a wet blanket. Wes’s easygoing demeanor faltered for just a moment—just long enough for you to catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes.

But he recovered quickly, letting out a forced laugh. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Joe,” Ja’Marr said sharply, stepping forward. “That was uncalled for.”

Joe raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk faltering. “What? I was just joking.”

“No, you weren’t,” Ja’Marr said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You stared at Joe, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and confusion. What was his problem? You’d seen him tease people before, but this was something else. This was cruel.

Joe’s eyes finally flicked to yours, and for a brief second, something like regret flashed across his face. But just as quickly, he turned away, muttering, “Whatever,” before stalking off into the crowd.

The group stood in awkward silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“I’m sorry about that,” you said softly, turning to Wes.

He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”

But you could see the way his shoulders sagged, the way his fingers tightened around the edge of his cup.

Ja’Marr sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s not usually like that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, still staring at the spot where Joe had disappeared.

Ja’Marr shot you a look but said nothing. The group eventually dispersed, the easy energy of the night soured by the encounter.

And as you followed Ella home later, you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head, trying to piece together why Joe Burrow seemed so determined to ruin the night—not just for you, but for Wes, too.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the faint buzz of crickets and distant party music filling the air as you and Ella navigated the dimly lit sidewalks. The night had been long, and your head was still spinning from Joe’s earlier outburst. You’d always known him to be annoying, maybe even a little infuriating, but tonight was different. There was a sharpness to him, an edge that left you unsettled.

Ella broke the silence first, her voice soft. “What do you think that was about? With Joe, I mean.”

You shrugged, kicking a loose pebble down the pavement. “Who knows? Maybe he ran out of people to torture and decided to branch out.”

Ella laughed lightly but didn’t press further. By the time you reached your apartment complex, the cool night air had started to seep into your skin, making you shiver. All you could think about was collapsing into bed and forgetting this day ever happened.

But, of course, Joe Burrow had other plans.

There he was, right in front of your door, pressed up against yet another blonde, her manicured nails tangled in his hair as they made out like the world was ending.

You stopped dead in your tracks, Ella nearly bumping into you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

At the sound of your voice, Joe broke away from his hookup, turning to face you with a smirk that was equal parts shameless and infuriating.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite neighbor,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Wes not invite you over for a post-party study session?”

Your jaw tightened. “Get out of the way, Burrow.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “What’s the rush? You don’t want to hang out? I can introduce you to…uh…” He glanced at the girl beside him, snapping his fingers as if trying to remember her name.

The blonde giggled, clearly unbothered. “Stephanie,” she offered, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Right. Stephanie,” Joe said, his grin widening.

Ella groaned softly beside you, crossing her arms. “Joe, move. We’re tired.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, stepping aside but not before leaning casually against the doorframe, effectively blocking your path again. “But seriously, where’s Wes? Thought you two were hitting it off. Or is he back on the bench already?”

“Are you serious right now?” you snapped, finally losing the last shred of patience you had left.

Joe straightened up, clearly surprised by the sudden bite in your tone. “What? I’m just messing around.”

“No, you’re being a jerk,” you shot back. “First, you humiliate Wes at the party, and now you’re standing here, rubbing it in like it’s some kind of joke. What’s your problem?”

Stephanie shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting between you and Joe. “Uh, maybe we should—”

“Not now,” Joe cut her off, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t even look at her, his eyes locked on yours.

Stephanie’s mouth fell open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Just go,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm.

For a moment, the three of you stood frozen, the tension hanging thick in the air. Then, with an indignant huff, Stephanie grabbed her purse and stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the pavement.

Ella’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Wow,” she muttered under her breath.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply before turning back to you. “Happy now?”

“No,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re still here.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re acting like I committed some crime. I was just joking, okay? It’s not my fault you can’t take a little teasing.”

“Teasing?” you repeated, incredulous. “Joe, you embarrassed Wes in front of everyone tonight. And for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re the big man on campus?”

His jaw clenched, the cocky facade cracking ever so slightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then enlighten me,” you challenged, taking a step closer. “Why do you always have to be such an ass?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tense. “Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention.”

Your breath caught, his words hitting like a punch to the gut. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his door slamming echoing through the quiet hallway.

Ella let out a low whistle. “Well, that was…something.”

You stared after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Something.”

“Did he just…?” Ella’s voice was barely a whisper beside you.

You swallowed hard, not trusting yourself to speak. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t like Joe to be vulnerable—hell, he practically lived to get under your skin. And yet, there it was, hanging in the air: the truth you never asked for, wrapped up in all his stupid teasing and annoying antics.

“Forget it,” you finally muttered, fumbling with your keys as you moved to unlock the door. “He’s just trying to mess with me.”

“Uh-huh,” Ella said slowly, following you inside. “Because, you know, the guy who just ditched a hot blonde to argue with you at midnight clearly doesn’t care.”

You shot her a glare, unwilling to entertain the idea. “I’m going to bed.”

Ella raised her hands in surrender, smirking knowingly as she headed for her room. “Okay, but don’t act surprised when he shows up tomorrow. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

“Goodnight, Ella,” you said firmly, shutting your bedroom door behind you.

But as you lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t get his words out of your head. Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention. Was he serious? Or was this just another game to him, a way to throw you off-balance and make you question everything?

With a frustrated sigh, you rolled over, punching your pillow as if it was somehow Joe’s fault that you couldn’t sleep. Whatever his deal was, you weren’t going to let him get under your skin any more than he already had.

But deep down, you knew it was too late. Because whether you liked it or not, Joe Burrow had already wormed his way into your thoughts—and no amount of denial was going to change that.

The next morning, you woke up to a series of loud knocks on your door, far too early for any sane person to be awake. Groaning, you pulled the covers over your head, but the knocking continued, persistent and unrelenting.

“Go away!” you yelled, but the noise didn’t stop.

With a huff, you threw off the blankets and stumbled out of bed, yanking open the door with every intention of giving whoever it was a piece of your mind.

But, of course, it was Joe.

He stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe like he hadn’t just woken you up at the crack of dawn, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Morning, neighbor.”

You stared at him, too stunned and too tired to muster a response.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he said, his tone annoyingly chipper.

“I wasn’t,” you snapped, rubbing your eyes. “What the hell do you want?”

His smile widened, and he held up a to-go coffee cup, the LSU logo bright against the paper sleeve. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

You blinked at the cup, then at him, suspicion rising. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said, still holding it out. “Just coffee. Truce?”

You hesitated, the words from last night still lingering between you. But, against your better judgment, you reached for the cup, your fingers brushing his for a brief second. “Fine. Truce. For now.”

His eyes gleamed, like he’d just won some kind of invisible battle. “I’ll take it.” He turned to leave but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, and by the way—I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing in the doorway with a coffee cup in hand and the distinct feeling that, somehow, things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Things between you and Wes have been going really well. You’ve been texting each other daily since that first meeting in the quad, and his messages always seem to bring a smile to your face. Some days, you talk about classes and the usual college chaos—complaining about professors who seem to thrive on assigning last-minute papers, laughing over campus gossip, or sharing music recommendations.

Other days, the conversations drift into deeper topics: family, future dreams, and the things you never thought you’d share with someone you’d barely known a few weeks ago. It's easy, effortless, and you feel like you've known him forever. There's a connection that grows stronger with each passing day, his texts becoming a constant you look forward to amid the swirl of college life.

When game days roll around, you make sure to watch, even if football has never been your thing. You learn enough of the basics to text him encouragement before each game and tease him when his team makes a stupid play. And every single time he wins, you get a photo of him in his jersey, sweaty and glowing with victory, his smile so wide you can feel it through the screen.

One crisp Saturday evening after a particularly big game—a win that had the entire stadium roaring and chanting for more—your phone buzzes. It’s Wes, as expected, but this time the message is different.

Wes: Big win tonight. You should come out to celebrate—party at the house. It'll be fun, promise.

You hesitate for a moment. Frat parties aren’t usually your scene, but the idea of seeing Wes in person after weeks of building up this text-based connection makes your heart beat a little faster. It feels like the right time to finally break out of the comfort of your phone screen. You don’t want to overthink it, so you respond quickly.

You: Okay, I’ll come! What time? Wes: Perfect. Starts at 9, but I’ll be there around 10. Meet me out front? I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.

You can’t help but laugh at that—his protective side has become more apparent lately, and you find it kind of endearing. The rest of the evening passes in a blur of anticipation. You try on half your wardrobe, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness that makes your stomach flutter. After way too much deliberation, you settle on something that’s cute but comfortable—a black crop top, jeans that fit just right, and your favorite sneakers. Casual, but you don’t want to come off like you’re trying too hard.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Wes went in, the familiar buzz of laughter and music filling the air. His arm rested loosely around your shoulders as you made your way through the packed house, a red solo cup already in his hand. It was a typical LSU post-game celebration—teammates hyped up from their win, students eager for a reason to cut loose, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.

Wes, ever the golden retriever type, was all smiles as he greeted his teammates. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you plastered on your own smile. Wes was great—sweet, thoughtful, and good-looking to boot—but there was something missing. Conversations with him always felt a little too polished, like he was sticking to a script.

Still, you weren’t going to let your wandering thoughts ruin the night. As he led you toward the makeshift bar in the kitchen, you decided to let loose a little, leaning into his world for the evening.

You were two drinks in when you felt it—a shift in the air that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Glancing across the room, your eyes locked with Joe’s. He was leaning casually against the wall, his cup dangling from his fingers as he laughed at something Ja’Marr said. But his focus wasn’t on his teammate—it was on you.

That look.

You’d seen it before, the one that screamed I’m up to something. Your stomach twisted as his lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk.

“What’s wrong?” Wes asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”

Wes didn’t notice your distraction, too busy rambling about the game. You nodded along, but your attention kept drifting back to Joe. He was still watching, and now he was moving.

Straight toward you.

“Wesley,” Joe said, his voice louder than necessary as he clapped a hand on Wes’s shoulder. “Man of the hour! Hell of a game tonight.”

Wes beamed, his chest puffing out a little. “Thanks, Burrow. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Joe said smoothly, his grin sharpening. “You’re really making a name for yourself out there.” He paused, his tone dipping just enough to make the compliment feel off. “You’ve got a solid five minutes of playing time this season, right?”

Wes laughed, missing the sarcasm entirely. “Yeah, Coach says I’m improving every week.”

Joe nodded, his expression the picture of sincerity. “No doubt. You’re an inspiration, man. Really showing the bench how it’s done.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to step in. Wes didn’t deserve to be Joe’s verbal punching bag, even if he was too oblivious to notice.

Then Joe shifted his focus.

“And this,” he said, gesturing toward you with his cup, “is the girl everyone’s been talking about?”

You stiffened, already bracing yourself.

“She’s great, right?” Wes said proudly, tightening his arm around your waist.

“Absolutely,” Joe said, his eyes locking on yours. “Smart, pretty, patient.” His lips twitched as he added, “Definitely one of a kind.”

The room felt hotter, smaller. You knew what he was doing, and you refused to let him win.

“Wow, Joe,” you said, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “That’s almost a compliment. Are you feeling okay?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy.”

Wes chuckled awkwardly, clearly missing the tension simmering between the two of you. But the people around you weren’t as oblivious. Conversations around the kitchen began to quiet, heads subtly turning in your direction.

Joe leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Though I gotta say, Wes, you’ve got your hands full. She seems like the type to keep you on your toes. Always ready with a snappy comeback.”

You took a step forward, your jaw tightening. “Maybe because some people deserve it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re talking about me,” Joe said, his smirk widening. “But hey, you’ve got to admit, I keep things interesting.”

“Interesting?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You mean infuriating.”

By now, you were toe-to-toe, the space between you charged with unspoken words and something else you refused to acknowledge.

Joe’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he smiled again, softer this time. “Guess that’s one way to put it.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you were certain everyone in the room could see the way your cheeks flushed, the way your chest rose and fell faster than it should have.

Joe straightened, patting Wes on the back. “You’ve got a good one here, man. Don’t screw it up.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd with that stupid smirk still on his face.

Wes turned to you, oblivious as ever. “Man, Joe’s great, isn’t he?”

You didn’t answer, too busy trying to calm the storm raging inside you. Because as much as you hated to admit it, Joe Burrow had just gotten under your skin again. And this time, you weren’t sure you could shake him off.

The days blur together after the party, each one bleeding into the next with a heavy quiet you can’t shake. Joe hasn’t teased you, hasn’t made any more snide comments in passing. It’s almost like he’s disappeared entirely, and the silence he’s left behind feels suffocating.

But it's not the kind of peace you wanted—it's the kind that echoes, that bounces around inside your skull, replaying the things he said over and over again until you can’t ignore them anymore. You try to focus on Wes, try to let his easygoing, good-natured attitude soothe the irritation that keeps curling under your skin, but the more you think about Joe’s words, the more they fester. Suddenly, everything about Wes feels too soft, too careful. He’s kind, yes, but there's a blandness to it, a safe predictability that only makes you itch for something sharper.

Then, days later, you find yourself in the apartment lobby, bundled up against the late autumn chill, glaring at a maintenance form on the wall. The hot water’s been out for days, and you’re halfway through filling out a complaint when you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is—the shift in the air is enough.

"Wow, fancy meeting you here," comes Joe’s voice, smooth and mocking, with just enough bite to make your spine stiffen. You don’t turn around, don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you keep writing, the pen pressing hard enough against the paper that it almost tears.

"Cold water bothering you too?" he continues when you don’t respond, his tone amused. You can feel him looming behind you, a little too close, and you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stay calm.

"Just trying to get it fixed," you reply curtly, finally turning around and catching the cocky smirk tugging at his lips. You’re not in the mood for whatever game he’s about to play, but of course, he’s not about to let you off that easy. His gaze slides from the form in your hand back up to your face, one eyebrow quirking up in that infuriating way that always makes you want to wipe the smugness off his face.

"Surprised you’re handling it yourself," Joe drawls, his eyes bright with something almost like delight. "Thought you'd get your little boyfriend to do it for you."

Your fingers tighten around the pen, and you force yourself to take a breath, ignoring the way your pulse quickens. "Not everything revolves around Wes," you shoot back, but your voice wavers just enough to make Joe’s smirk widen. His eyes flick over your face, and you hate the way he seems to read every expression, every crack in the mask you’re struggling to hold up.

"Really?" he says, the word heavy with skepticism. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall like he’s settling in for a show. "Could’ve fooled me. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, huh? I bet you’re the perfect, supportive girlfriend." His voice drips with sarcasm, and something inside you snaps.

"Shut up, Joe," you hiss, your voice low and dangerous. You turn back to the form, determined to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. In fact, he leans in closer, his breath warm on your ear.

"Why?" he murmurs, his voice soft but taunting, like he’s got all the time in the world. "Hit a nerve?"

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because the truth is, he did hit a nerve. And he knows it.

"Come on," he pushes, a note of genuine curiosity in his tone now. "Don’t you ever get tired of it? Playing nice, doing everything right, sticking with someone who’s… I dunno, safe?"

You spin around, eyes blazing, and Joe’s face lights up with triumph. "You don’t know anything about him," you snap, but there’s a waver in your voice that makes Joe’s eyes narrow with interest. "Wes is kind, and he’s decent, and he actually cares about people, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you."

Joe’s smile doesn’t falter. In fact, it only grows wider, almost wolfish, and you hate that it sends a thrill through you, a charge that leaves your heart racing. "Yeah," he says, his tone almost pitying, "he’s safe. Boring. He’s exactly the kind of guy who’d never get in your way, never challenge you, never push back. And you’re happy with that? Really?"

You glare at him, your blood boiling, but you can’t look away. Because some part of you—the part you’ve been trying to silence for days—knows he’s right, and it makes you want to scream. "What the hell is your problem, Joe?" you demand, your voice shaking with anger. "Why do you even care? What does it matter to you if I’m with him or not?"

For a moment, something flickers in Joe’s eyes, something you can’t quite read, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears, replaced by that infuriating smirk. "I don’t care," he says, too quickly, his voice a little too smooth. "I just think it’s funny, that’s all. Watching you pretend like he’s enough for you."

You step closer without realizing it, your fists clenched at your sides. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," you insist, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. Joe’s gaze drops to your lips for a split second, and you feel a jolt of something hot and dangerous twist in your stomach.

"Don’t I?" he murmurs, and suddenly, you’re standing toe-to-toe, your breath mingling with his, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. He’s so close, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his smirk softens just enough to be dangerous.

You don’t move. Neither does he.

There’s a beat, a moment suspended in time where it feels like the whole world has narrowed down to just the two of you, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Then, suddenly, Joe’s expression shifts, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face as he leans back, breaking the spell. He claps you on the shoulder, his touch light but lingering.

"Good talk," he says, his tone infuriatingly cheerful as he pushes past you towards the elevator, leaving you standing there, breathless and rattled.

"Have fun with Wes," he throws over his shoulder, and the door slides shut behind him before you can find the words to reply. You’re left staring at the closed elevator doors, your chest heaving and your hands still trembling around the pen, the echoes of Joe’s taunting voice ricocheting in your mind.

And for the first time in days, the silence feels even louder.

The days drag by, and every one of them feels heavier, weighed down by Joe's words. They hang over you, echoing whenever you try to ignore them, seeping into your thoughts when you're with Wes. The way he holds your hand, the way he smiles politely at your jokes, the way he never raises his voice or teases you too hard—it’s all safe. It’s what you thought you wanted. But now, thanks to Joe, it’s all starting to feel empty, like a shell with nothing inside.

As if to make matters worse, Joe's been louder, more present, and more irritating than ever. He’s upped his game, bringing a new girl home almost every night, the kind who giggle just a little too loud in the stairwell, whose heels click sharply against the tile floors, waking you and Ella up in the middle of the night. You hear them laughing through the paper-thin walls, their voices carrying long after you wish they’d shut up. Ella throws a pillow at the wall one night, groaning in frustration, but you just lie there, staring up at the dark ceiling, the annoyance mixing with something else—something you refuse to name.

And then Wes’s birthday sneaks up on you, like a storm you’d been pretending not to see on the horizon. Everyone's talking about it—the party of the semester, hosted at his parents’ mansion on the outskirts of Baton Rouge. You know it’s a big deal. Wes’s parents are the kind who throw events instead of parties, the kind where everyone’s wearing their best, and you’d feel out of place if you weren’t on Wes’s arm. You spend way too long picking out your dress, ignoring Ella’s teasing smile as you change twice and then settle on something classy, something you think Wes’s parents will approve of.

The mansion is even more extravagant than you expected. Tall, stately, and glowing with warm light spilling from every window. A string quartet plays softly near the entrance, and there’s enough champagne to drown in. It’s a perfect picture of Southern elegance, the kind of party where everyone’s on their best behavior and no one dares spill a drink on the white marble floors.

You’re almost able to relax, standing with Wes as he introduces you to old friends and relatives, his arm around your waist like you’re some kind of prize. But then, from across the room, you catch sight of someone familiar stepping through the grand double doors, and the air goes still.

Joe. And he’s not alone.

On his arm is a girl who looks like she’s stepped straight out of a beauty magazine—perfect curls cascading down her back, a dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, and a pageant smile that could light up the whole room. She’s everything you’re not: polished, pristine, and undeniably beautiful. And Joe’s leaning in close to her, whispering something that makes her laugh, the sound light and carefree, echoing above the music.

Your heart sinks. You should have known he’d be here. You should have known he’d show up with someone like her.

The moment he walks in, it’s like the temperature drops. You feel him scan the room, his gaze sliding over the crowd until it lands on you. There’s a flicker of recognition, a half-smile that tugs at his lips, and for a second, you swear he’s going to make a beeline for you, but then he turns to his date, all easy charm and confidence.

You look away quickly, swallowing down the hot, bitter twinge of jealousy that rises in your chest. Beside you, Wes is oblivious, laughing with some cousin or another, completely unaware of the storm that’s building in your mind.

The party moves on, but you can't shake the weight in your chest. Every time you turn around, Joe is there—always in your peripheral, laughing with his date or effortlessly sliding into conversations with people he’s never met, commanding attention without even trying. And it’s driving you mad. You hate that he’s here, hate the way his presence seems to seep into every corner of the room, hate that you can’t stop looking for him, even when you don’t mean to.

Wes’s parents announce dinner, and you find yourself at a long table, perfectly set with silverware that you don’t even know how to use properly. Wes is on your left, chatting away, and you force yourself to smile and nod at the right moments, though your gaze keeps drifting over his shoulder. Joe is at the far end of the table, but his eyes meet yours—bright and full of something that feels like a challenge. He raises his glass in your direction, and you don’t miss the way his date practically glows under his attention, leaning into his side.

You grit your teeth, focusing on Wes, who’s completely unaware of the way your stomach is twisting. He’s sweet, attentive, a perfect gentleman, and you wish you could ignore the itch under your skin, the restlessness that grows with each passing minute. But it’s there, burning hotter every time you catch sight of Joe, laughing too loud or leaning in too close to whisper in his date's ear.

By the time dessert is served, you’re practically vibrating with frustration, and Wes’s voice is starting to blur into the background. He’s telling some long-winded story about his summer at the family lake house, but all you can think about is how easy it would be to just walk over to the other end of the table and—

“Hey, you alright?” Wes’s voice breaks through your thoughts, and you force yourself to focus on him, pasting on a smile that feels hollow.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, reaching for your glass of champagne and taking a sip that burns all the way down. He seems satisfied, squeezing your hand gently under the table, but his touch feels distant, almost suffocating.

And when you glance back at Joe, he’s watching you, his smile sharper than you remember. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes your skin prickle, like he’s waiting for something, like he knows exactly what kind of game he’s playing. His date is still chattering away, oblivious to the way his gaze keeps flicking back to you, like a tether he can’t quite cut loose.

You look away, your face heating, and try to drown out the feeling with another sip of champagne. But it's no use. The night has only just begun, and you already know—it’s going to be a long one.

You escape upstairs, the noise of the party fading as you climb the grand, spiraling staircase. It’s quieter up here, with the muted sound of conversation and laughter drifting up from below, and you can finally breathe a little easier. You’re not even sure what you’re doing—just that you need a break from the suffocating conversation, the polished smiles, and the feeling of being watched. Wes is deep in conversation with a teammate, and it was easy enough to slip away unnoticed. You tell yourself you're only going to the bathroom, but you don’t even bother finding one. You just wander down the hall, hoping to collect yourself, to calm the thudding in your chest.

But then, of course, you see him.

Joe, leaning lazily against the wall at the end of the hallway, like he’s been waiting for you. There’s no sign of his date—she’s probably downstairs, lost in the crowd—but Joe’s here, and he looks too damn comfortable, his tie loosened and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He gives you that infuriating half-smirk the second your eyes meet, like he’s been expecting you. Like he knows you’re going to stop.

“Lost?” he drawls, his voice a low, lazy tease, and you freeze, every muscle in your body going tense.

“No,” you snap, hating the way your heart skips when he pushes off the wall, taking a step closer. “Just getting some air.”

“From Wes?” he asks, eyebrows raising, and you can hear the taunt in his tone, the way he draws out the name like it’s a joke. “Or from this whole perfect little party of his?”

“None of your business,” you shoot back, but he’s closer now, and you hate how your breath catches, how the air between you feels thick and electric. He’s looking at you like he’s stripping away all the layers you’ve put up—the polite smiles, the careful charm—and seeing straight through to the part of you that’s restless and hungry for a fight.

“You know, I can’t tell if you’re actually enjoying yourself,” he says, his voice dropping lower, almost intimate. “Or if you’re just playing the role of ‘good girlfriend’ to make everyone happy.”

“Shut up, Joe,” you warn, but your voice is weaker than you want it to be, and he notices. Of course he notices. He takes another step, and suddenly he’s way too close, the heat of him radiating into the space between you, making it harder to breathe.

“Or is it that Wes is just…too boring for you?” he presses, and something snaps. You step forward, shoving him hard enough to make him stumble back a step, anger flaring white-hot in your chest.

“Why do you care?” you demand, your voice rising. “Why do you always have to ruin everything? You can’t stand seeing me happy, can you? You always have to get in the way—”

“Oh, please,” he cuts you off, his voice sharp with irritation. “Don’t act like I’m the one ruining things. You’re the one who can’t stop looking at me. You’re the one who’s pretending this perfect little relationship is enough for you.”

You don’t even think. You just react, stepping closer, your chest heaving with the force of your anger, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “You don’t know anything about me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you before you can stop them. “You don’t know what I want or what I need, so stop pretending like you have me all figured out!”

He’s laughing now, a low, mocking sound that sets your teeth on edge, and you want to hit him, to scream, to do something to wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. But then he’s had enough. Suddenly, he moves, quick as a flash, and before you can even blink, he’s grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weigh nothing, throwing you over his shoulder in one swift, effortless motion.

“Put me down!” you shout, struggling against him, but he just tightens his grip, carrying you down the hall like you’re some kind of rag doll. Your fists beat uselessly against his back, and you’re half-cursing, half-panicking as he ignores you, kicking open the nearest door and stepping inside.

The door slams shut behind him, and you barely register the darkened room—a guest bedroom, dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the curtains—before he’s setting you down, pressing you up against the wall with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You’re too stunned to move, your back hitting the cold plaster, and suddenly his body is pinning you there, his hands on either side of your face, caging you in.

“Finally shut you up,” he mutters, his voice rough, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the way his breath brushes your cheek, hot and fast. His eyes are dark, burning with something you’ve never seen before, and the space between you feels like it’s crackling, alive with an energy that makes your skin prickle and your pulse race.

“Why do you have to be such a—” you start, but he cuts you off, leaning in closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his chest pressing against yours. His mouth is inches from yours, his lips twisting into a wicked smile.

“Go on,” he taunts, his voice low and dangerous. “Say it. Tell me what you really think.”

You’re breathing hard, your anger warring with something hotter, something that’s been building between you for months, and you can’t stop yourself. “You’re an asshole,” you spit, your hands coming up to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. He just leans in, his nose brushing against yours, the air between you thick and suffocating.

“And you,” he says softly, his voice almost gentle, “are a liar.”

You don’t know who moves first—whether it’s him closing the distance or you surging up to meet him—but suddenly his mouth is on yours, hard and desperate, and you’re kissing him back like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. The kiss is furious, full of all the things you can’t say, all the frustration and the longing and the anger that’s been building up for so long it feels like it’s going to explode. His hands are in your hair, his grip almost painful, and you’re clinging to him, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth as he presses you harder against the wall.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers against your lips, his breath ragged, and you shake your head, too far gone to think, to lie, to do anything but pull him closer, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Shut up,” you breathe, and he laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin, before he kisses you again, deeper this time, slower, like he’s savoring the taste of your surrender. The room feels too small, the air too thick, and you know you should stop, you know this is wrong, but you can’t, not when his hands are sliding down your sides, not when his body is pressing into yours, not when he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

And then, suddenly, it’s too much. You push him away, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps, and he lets you go, stepping back with a grin that’s all arrogance and triumph. Your lips feel swollen, your face flushed, and you hate that you can’t stop looking at him, that you want more even though you know you shouldn’t.

“See?” he says softly, his voice maddeningly smug. “I do know you.”

The words barely have time to leave his mouth before you’re on him again, shoving him away from you, your hands hitting his chest with more force than you intend. He stumbles back a step, a flash of surprise crossing his face before his eyes harden, that infuriating grin vanishing. You’re both breathing hard, the air between you heavy with everything unspoken, with all the sharp words that have been building up since the day you met.

“You don’t know anything!” you snap, your voice cracking, and he just laughs, a short, humorless sound that makes your blood boil.

“You keep saying that,” he shoots back, his voice low and dangerous, “but here you are. Every time, it’s the same thing. You want me to stop? Then say it. Tell me to leave.”

You open your mouth to say exactly that, to tell him to go to hell and stay out of your life, but the words won’t come. They catch in your throat, tangled up with the truth you can’t face, and he sees it. He always sees it. His gaze softens, something like understanding flickering in those dark eyes, and it pisses you off more than anything.

“See?” he murmurs, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You can’t. Because you don’t want me to.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, but it’s too late—he’s already crowding into your space, his hand curling around the back of your neck, tilting your face up to his. You hate him for the way he’s looking at you, like he’s unraveling you with a single glance, like he knows exactly how to break you down, and before you can stop yourself, you’re surging up, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kiss him again, harder this time, angrier.

His arms come around you instantly, pulling you closer, and you hate that it feels good, that it feels right, even as you’re pushing against him, your nails digging into his shoulders. It’s a mess of teeth and tongues, the kiss desperate and furious, and you’re drowning in it, in the heat of him, in the way his fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

Then the door swings open, and you both jerk apart, your breaths coming in ragged, uneven pants. You barely have time to process what’s happening before you see Ja’Marr standing there, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. He looks at you, then at Joe, and lets out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Really, Joe?” he says, his voice laced with disappointment. “In the middle of Wes’s birthday party? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Calm down,” Joe says coolly, like he’s not the least bit bothered, his gaze still fixed on you, as if daring you to run. “We were just talking.”

“Yeah,” Ja’Marr scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Talking, right. Because making out with your teammate’s girl is totally a normal conversation.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and you step back, smoothing down your clothes like you can erase what just happened. “This—this was nothing,” you stammer, trying to ignore the way Joe’s lips curl into a smirk at your flustered tone. “We’re done here.”

Joe just gives you a lazy, almost triumphant smile, like he’s won some unspoken battle, and turns to Ja’Marr with a shrug. “She’s got a mind of her own, you know,” he says, and you want to punch him, to scream, but Ja’Marr just shakes his head, looking equal parts disappointed and resigned.

“Whatever,” Ja’Marr mutters, grabbing Joe’s arm and pulling him out into the hallway. “You need to get your act together. Wes is going to notice if you keep pulling this crap.”

Joe’s eyes flick to you one last time, something unreadable in his expression, before he lets Ja’Marr drag him away. The door clicks shut behind them, and you’re left alone in the darkened room, your heart racing and your thoughts spinning out of control. You know you should follow them, that you should go back downstairs and pretend like nothing happened, but your knees feel weak, and it takes you a long moment to gather yourself, to steady your breathing.

By the time you make your way back down to the party, your face feels numb, and you’ve forced on the brightest smile you can muster. Joe is already back in the thick of things, his arm slung casually around his date’s waist, laughing like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You want to be angry, to hate him for making it look so easy, but then Wes catches sight of you, his eyes lighting up as he excuses himself from his conversation.

“Hey, there you are!” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You try to smile, but it feels fake, like your skin doesn’t fit right anymore. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Just needed a minute,” you say, your voice sounding hollow even to your own ears. You’re about to say something else, anything to fill the awkward silence, when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.

Joe’s watching you, his gaze flicking from your face to your mouth, and that’s when you realize—his lips are still stained with the faintest trace of your lipstick, a dark, telltale smear at the corner of his mouth.

Wes follows your gaze, and his smile falters, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Joe, what’s on your—”

But Joe cuts in smoothly, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin widening as if he finds the whole thing hilarious. “Guess I got a little carried away,” he says, his voice dripping with mock innocence, and you feel the ground sway beneath you as Wes’s arm tightens around your shoulders, his confusion shifting to suspicion.

“What’s he talking about?” Wes asks, his eyes narrowing, and you open your mouth to respond, to deny, to do something—but nothing comes out. Your voice has abandoned you, and all you can do is stand there, frozen, as Joe’s smirk deepens and he lifts his drink in a mocking toast, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Good party,” Joe says casually, his tone almost friendly. “Really enjoyed myself.”

You don’t remember what happens next—just the blur of faces, the noise of the party swelling around you, and the hollow ache settling deep in your chest as Joe turns away, laughing with someone else, like he hasn’t just blown everything to pieces.

Wes's smile is strained when he pulls you aside, away from the music and the crowd. There’s a tightness around his eyes you haven’t seen before, something almost defeated, and for the first time that night, you feel a genuine pang of guilt. This is the part you were dreading—the confrontation, the disappointment in his eyes. But instead of yelling, instead of demanding an explanation, he just looks... tired.

“Hey,” he starts softly, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t wanna make a scene, okay? But I think... I think maybe you should go.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words die in your throat. There’s no anger in his voice, just resignation, like he already knows the answer before you can even try to lie. You can’t tell if that makes it better or worse.

“Wes, I—” you begin, but he holds up a hand, a weak, defeated smile pulling at his lips.

“It’s okay,” he interrupts, and there’s something achingly kind in his voice, which somehow makes it hurt more. “I think we both know this... isn’t what you want. Not really.”

You feel relief flood your chest so suddenly that it’s almost nauseating, and that’s how you know he’s right. Because instead of being devastated, instead of scrambling to explain yourself, you just feel lighter. Like a weight you didn’t realize you were carrying has finally been lifted.

You reach out to touch his arm, but he steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t,” he says quietly, and you let your hand drop, nodding numbly. There’s nothing left to say. You don’t try to apologize; you don’t try to make excuses. You just turn and leave, the buzz of the party fading behind you as you slip out the front door, the cold night air hitting you like a slap.

The walk back to the apartment feels like a blur, your mind whirling with everything that just happened, everything you don’t want to think about. You don’t know if it’s the relief of being free from something you never truly wanted, or the shame of how it all went down, but by the time you reach your building, your hands are trembling and your breath is hitching.

You let yourself into the apartment, your eyes already burning with unshed tears, and you find Ella curled up on the couch, half-asleep in front of the TV. The moment she sees your face, though, she sits up, worry creasing her brow.

“Whoa, what happened?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep, but you don’t even know where to begin.

“Everything,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and then it all spills out. You tell her everything—about Joe, about the kiss, about Wes’s sad, tired smile and the way he let you go without a fight. You’re talking so fast you’re stumbling over your words, your emotions a chaotic tangle of regret and relief and frustration, and by the time you’re finished, you feel completely wrung out.

Ella listens without interrupting, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief to sympathy as you pour your heart out. When you finally go quiet, she just sighs and pulls you into a hug, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and you don’t realize how much you needed to hear that until the tears start falling. She doesn’t tell you that you screwed up, she doesn’t lecture you about Joe, she just holds you while you cry, rubbing soothing circles on your back until the tears run dry.

By the time you pull away, your throat is raw, and you’re exhausted. Ella doesn’t say anything, just gives you a look that says she understands, that she’s on your side no matter what, and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.

But then, just as you’re wiping your eyes and trying to compose yourself, you hear it—a loud burst of laughter echoing through the thin wall you share with Joe’s apartment. It’s followed by the high-pitched giggle of a girl, and your stomach twists. Of course. Of course.

Ella catches the look on your face and scowls. “He’s such an ass,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “You want me to go bang on the wall and tell them to shut up?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s... it’s fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You don’t even believe yourself, but you can’t deal with Joe right now, not after everything. So you go to your room, shut the door, and try to block out the noise. You tell yourself you don’t care. You tell yourself it’s over. But sleep doesn’t come easily, and all you can hear is Joe’s voice in your head, his mocking words echoing long after the sounds from next door have finally gone quiet.

Over the next few days, you try to fall back into a routine, but everything feels off-kilter. Wes doesn’t text you, and you don’t reach out, letting the silence stretch between you until it feels like a mutual understanding—something that was always going to happen. Ella hovers, supportive but careful not to push, and you appreciate that. You just need space, time to sort through everything.

Joe, however, is a different story.

You barely see him around the complex, but when you do, it’s impossible to ignore him. He’s still bringing home girls—more than ever, it seems—and they’re always loud, obnoxiously so, like he’s doing it on purpose, like he’s rubbing it in your face. And maybe he is. Maybe this is his way of proving a point, of showing you that he doesn’t care, that he never cared, and the worst part is... you don’t know if you care either. Or maybe you care too much.

One night, after a particularly sleepless stretch of listening to laughter and footsteps pounding through the walls, Ella finds you staring blankly at the ceiling, dark circles smudged beneath your eyes.

“He’s doing this on purpose, you know,” she says bluntly, her tone halfway between irritation and pity. “He’s trying to get to you.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, rolling over to face the wall. “It’s working.”

Wes’s birthday party fades into memory, and a few weeks pass. It’s easier to pretend you don’t care when you don’t have to face the fallout. You focus on classes, avoid places where you might run into Joe, and try to ignore the way your heart sinks every time you hear his voice next door.

Then, one Friday night, there’s a knock on your door. You’re half expecting Ella’s latest Tinder date or a package, but instead, you find Joe leaning against the doorframe, his usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. There’s something almost hesitant about the way he looks at you, and for a second, you don’t know what to say.

“Hey,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it catches you off guard.

“What do you want?” you ask, and you hate how defensive you sound, how you can’t help but put a wall between you.

Joe’s eyes flicker, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing down the hallway before he looks back at you. “Can we talk?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s asking because he wants to or because he thinks he has to. “Please?”

You hesitate, every part of you screaming to slam the door in his face, to tell him to go to hell. “Talk?” you echo, as though the very idea is laughable. “What’s there to talk about, Joe?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his hands still deep in his pockets. “I just—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. For once, he doesn’t look cocky or composed. He looks tired. “I screwed up, okay? I know that. And I just… I want to make things right.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Now you care about making things right? Weeks later? Where was this when you were busy humiliating me in front of everyone at Wes’s party?”

Joe flinches, and the sight of it sends a small, mean thrill through you. You want him to feel every ounce of the anger and hurt that’s been simmering inside you since that night.

“I was drunk,” he mutters, like it’s an excuse. “You know I didn’t mean half the shit I said.”

“Oh, so you only mean half of it?” Your voice rises despite yourself, and you take a step closer. “Which half, Joe? The part where you said Wes was too good for me? Or the part where you implied I’m some kind of charity case?”

Joe groans, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s not what I meant! You’re twisting it—”

“I’m twisting it?” Your laugh is sharp, humorless. “No, Joe. I’m finally calling you out on your crap. You think you can just waltz in here, throw out a half-assed apology, and I’m supposed to forget how you treated me? Newsflash: I’m done being your punching bag.”

“Punching bag?” His voice spikes, and you can see his patience starting to fray. “Are you kidding me? You think I don’t care about you? That I’d say that stuff to hurt you on purpose?”

“Then why did you say it?” you snap, stepping closer until you’re almost toe to toe. “Why, Joe? If you care so much, why do you always find a way to make me feel like I’m not enough?”

He stares at you, his jaw tightening, his chest rising and falling as he tries to keep his temper in check. But then he snaps, his voice loud enough to make you flinch. “Because you drive me crazy, alright? You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s like I can’t think straight when I’m around you!”

You’re stunned into silence, your heart pounding in your chest. The air between you crackles with something electric, something you can’t name but can feel in every nerve of your body.

Joe’s eyes are blazing, his chest heaving as he takes a step closer. “You think I wanted this? That I wanted to feel like this about you? I didn’t, okay? But I do. And it scares the hell out of me.”

You swallow hard, your throat dry. “Joe…”

He shakes his head, his voice softening just a fraction. “I’m sorry, alright? For all of it. I just—I didn’t know how to deal with this, with you.”

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, the space between you is gone. Joe’s hands are on your arms, his grip firm but not rough, and you’re looking up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

Joe doesn’t step back. He doesn’t let the anger rise again. He stays close, his hands still resting on your arms, his grip grounding and firm. His gaze softens, something vulnerable breaking through the tension in his voice.

“You think I like being the guy who gets under your skin?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s no bite to it now. Only honesty. “You think I enjoy pissing you off just for fun?”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift, the rawness in his tone. “Don’t you?”

Joe lets out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “No. That’s just the only way you ever seem to notice me.” His words hit like a punch to the gut, and your breath hitches. “If I’m not in your face, annoying the hell out of you, it’s like I don’t even exist to you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. He’s too quick, too honest, and you don’t have a defense ready for the truth.

“That’s why I invite them over,” he continues, and there’s no cockiness in the admission. Just exhaustion. “Those girls, the loud music, the stupid games—it’s not because I want them. It’s because I’m trying to get you to see me. To pay attention. Even if it’s just so you can yell at me.”

Your stomach twists, a lump forming in your throat. You want to stay mad, to cling to your anger like a shield, but it’s slipping through your fingers. Joe doesn’t stop; he steps closer, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“I don’t know how else to get through to you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m tired, okay? I’m tired of pretending like I don’t care when I do. So much more than I should.”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest like a drum. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. Joe watches you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, his hesitation palpable. And then, before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours.

It’s not rough or demanding like you might have expected. It’s soft, tentative, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away. His hands slide from your arms to your waist, anchoring you gently, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds back.

For a moment, you freeze, torn between the urge to push him away and the overwhelming need to lean into him. But then your walls crack, and you kiss him back, your hands clutching at the front of his shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Joe pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. His breathing is unsteady, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper. Without a word, he steps forward, his hands tightening around your waist as he gently pushes you through the door.

You don’t resist. You can’t.

He closes the door behind him with a quiet click, then sweeps you off your feet in one swift, effortless motion. You let out a small gasp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carries you down the hall toward your bedroom.

“Joe…” you begin, but he silences you with a look—a look so tender, so unlike the Joe you thought you knew, that your words die on your lips.

By the time he lays you down on the bed, the anger and frustration from moments ago have evaporated, replaced by something else entirely. Something that hums between you like a live wire.

He hovers over you, his weight supported by his arms on either side of your head. His eyes search yours, silently asking for permission, for understanding. And when you nod, so small and uncertain, he dips his head to kiss you again, this time deeper, more sure of himself.

Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently as he trails his lips down your jaw, your neck, every touch making your pulse race. He’s careful, almost reverent, as if afraid to break the fragile moment you’re sharing.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—Joe Burrow isn’t the selfish, cocky guy you thought he was. Maybe, behind all the bravado, he’s just a boy who wanted you to see him. And now, you finally do.

Joe’s lips trail along the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, electric path in their wake. He takes his time, his breath hot against your skin, and every deliberate touch makes your pulse thunder louder in your ears.

His hands glide over your waist, fingers pressing lightly, almost teasing as they trace the hem of your shirt. You feel his smile against your neck when you squirm slightly beneath him, a soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “No more yelling? No smart remarks?”

You swallow hard, trying to find some semblance of control, but the way his hands move, the way his lips hover so close yet don’t quite touch, leaves you breathless. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say to you right now,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.

Joe chuckles, lifting his head to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t believe that for a second,” he says, his thumb brushing over the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. “You’ve always got something to say to me. Even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off.”

You glare at him, but it’s half-hearted, your resolve crumbling as he dips his head again, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I like it when you get all fired up,” he whispers, his tone teasing. “But I think I like this quiet side of you even more.”

You huff, trying to ignore the way your body betrays you, leaning into him despite yourself. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Joe smirks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His hand slides under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and you shiver at the contact. “Maybe,” he admits, his tone smug, “but you’re still here, aren’t you?”

You want to retort, to wipe that cocky grin off his face, but before you can, he shifts his weight, his lips capturing yours again. This time, the kiss is slower, deeper, and you feel the teasing edge in his movements as he kisses you until you forget whatever comeback you had planned.

His fingers inch higher, tracing light patterns on your stomach, deliberately avoiding the places where you want him most. It’s infuriating, how easily he has you unraveling, and when he pulls back just enough to smirk down at you, you let out an exasperated groan.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, tugging at his shirt in frustration.

Joe leans down, his nose brushing against yours, his lips curling into a playful grin. “But you’re not telling me to stop.”

He shifts again, his hands sliding up to frame your face as he kisses you once more. His lips are soft but insistent, drawing you in until all you can focus on is him—his weight pressing you into the mattress, the warmth of his skin, the way his touch sets every nerve in your body alight.

“Say the word,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft but laced with a challenge. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You stare up at him, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. But the word never comes. Instead, you pull him down again, your fingers threading through his hair as you kiss him with all the pent-up frustration, anger, and longing that’s been building between you for weeks.

Joe groans softly, his hands sliding down your sides, his teasing touch giving way to something more intentional. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs against your lips, his tone smug but laced with something warmer, something that makes your stomach flip.

Joe's lips find yours again, the kiss deepening as his teasing facade begins to slip. His hands roam your body with more purpose now, fingertips pressing into your skin like he’s memorizing every curve. He nips lightly at your bottom lip, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Still hate me?” he whispers, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. He moves back slowly, before pulling off your leggings, his eyes never leaving yours.

You bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, you pull him closer, your nails grazing the back of his neck, and the quiet groan he lets out is enough to make your pulse race.

The leggings are long forgotten now, leaving you exposed in your underwear. Joe chuckles softly, his breath fanning against your lips as he trails kisses along your jaw, then lower, his teeth scraping lightly against the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue follows, soothing the faint sting, and the combination has your hands fisting in his shirt.

“You’re not as tough as you act, you know,” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. His hands slide beneath your shirt, his palms warm against your bare skin as he pushes the fabric up slowly. “I think you like this way more than you’re letting on.”

“You talk too much,” you manage to gasp, but your retort loses its bite when his thumb grazes just beneath your ribs, sending a rush of heat through your body.

Joe pulls back just enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He takes a moment to look at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with something you can’t quite name, and for a second, the teasing smirk is gone, replaced by something softer.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard.

Your breath hitches, and you feel your cheeks flush under his gaze. Before you can overthink it, his lips are on you again, softer this time but no less insistent. His hands trace slow, deliberate patterns along your sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath the band of your bra, and you arch into his touch without meaning to.

Joe grins against your skin, clearly pleased with your reaction. “That’s more like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing lower as he presses kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and then to the edge of the fabric.

He pauses, glancing up at you as his fingers toy with the clasp, his expression both playful and questioning. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says again, his tone softer now, without the usual cockiness.

But stopping is the furthest thing from your mind. Instead, you pull him down to you, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that answers his unspoken question.

Joe groans against your mouth, his hands moving to unclasp your bra with surprising ease, and you feel the shift in his demeanor as his teasing gives way to something more raw, more urgent. His lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and every deliberate touch has your body humming with anticipation.

“Still hate me?” he asks again, his voice rough and teasing, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks up at you.

You reach for him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. “Shut up, Joe,” you whisper, your voice breathless but firm, and for once, he listens.

Joe's smirk returns, but it’s softer now, laced with something warmer than his usual arrogance. He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound low and full of disbelief, as if he can’t quite believe where the night has led. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lets his lips and hands do the talking, his touch reverent but still filled with that undeniable fire that seems to burn between you.

He slowly pulls away, looking up at you with a small smirk before he gets up. Before you could start questioning him, he takes off his shirt and sweats swiftly, your eyes widening at his body.

Joe’s smirk deepens as he catches the way your eyes widen, lingering on his toned frame. His confidence seems to grow with every second you stay silent, your gaze betraying the sharp tongue you usually use to deflect him. He steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you time to drink him in.

“You’re staring,” he teases, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes burn with something more primal. “I knew you liked looking at me, but this is a new level.”

You roll your eyes, but the heat rushing to your cheeks gives you away. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, trying to sound dismissive, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying the effect he has on you.

Joe chuckles, leaning down to brace his hands on either side of you, his face inches from yours. “Too late for that,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve already done it for me.”

Before you can fire back, he trails his hand down your side, fingers skimming over your waist and hip with maddening slowness. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another to the swell of your chest, each one softer than the last, as if he’s savoring the way you shiver beneath his touch.

You can feel his hardened bulge against your stomach, and you're just about done with his teasing. You need him, now. “Joe,” you whined as he pulls back with a smirk.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he says, his voice low and raw. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Before you can reply, his lips are on yours again, his kiss stealing whatever snarky comeback you might have had. His hands move with purpose, sliding over every inch of bare skin, and the slow, deliberate way he touches you has your body aching for more.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your lips, the words a quiet challenge. But you don’t. You can’t.

Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him with all the frustration and longing you’ve been holding back for weeks. Joe groans, the sound vibrating against your lips as his teasing slips away entirely, replaced by something deeper, more desperate.

“God, you’re impossible,” he mutters, his voice laced with both exasperation and awe. But his actions betray the truth—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He finally pulls away, breathless as he gazes down at you, his eyes filled with adoration and lust. “I'm gonna fuck you, alright?” he mutters before leaning closer. “And for all those times you pissed me off, and annoyed me, I'll forget about all of that if I can just... hear you.”

You're caught off by the request and you almost think he's joking, but you're mistaken. He's dead serious. All you could was nod slowly in response and Joe leans away, pleased.

Joe’s control starts to slip, and it’s evident in the way his kisses grow hungrier, more urgent. His hands tremble slightly as they trail over your body, mapping out every curve like he’s afraid this moment will disappear. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide and his breathing uneven.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispers, his voice raw, the cocky edge completely gone. “You’ve been driving me insane for months.”

Then finally, he slowly peels off his briefs, and his large, hardened cock falls out.

Joe lets out a small groan as his head falls back, relief in his expression. His pink tip is already leaking with pre-cum. You practically faint at the sight, you couldn't help but let out a whimper. His hands find his cock before he slowly begins to pump it, his eyes finding yours again.

He spreads your legs open before leaning in, his lips finding yours as his hands lead his cock to your cunt. His forehead falls against yours as he slowly begins to insert himself, a heavenly groan leaving his lips at the feeling of your warm, tight walls.

You felt like you were being split in half, in the best way possible. You can't even describe how good his cock felt, he wasn't even a quarter inside of you, but you still felt like you were filled to the brim.

“O-oh, fuck, Joey,” you moaned as your swollen lips form an O, your head falling back onto the plush pillows. Now you understood why the girls in his apartment were so loud—they definitely weren't exaggerating.

His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you closer as if he wasn't inside of you already. His lips crash against yours again, the kiss filled with desperation, like he’s trying to pour every suppressed emotion into it. It’s intoxicating, the way his need for you feels almost overwhelming, and you find yourself clutching at his shoulders, wanting to be as close as possible.

He bottoms you out slowly, and he tries to give you a second to adjust—he really, really tried. He just couldn't. He slowly started thrusting in and out of you, and before you could even process the change in speed, he was rocking his hips against yours like the world depended on it.

The bed was creaking loudly underneath the two of you, the only sounds that could be heard was your loud moans, his grunts of pleasure, and the sound of skin against skin.

His cock was dizzying, to say the least. It hit all the spots you swore nobody had ever reached, making you question all your previous partners. You couldn't even form a singular thought about anything else except for Joe's huge cock and the way he was making you feel.

“Joe!” You manage to gasp as he begins to pound into you impossibly harder, but he cuts you off with another kiss, groaning softly against your lips.

“Say my name again,” he demands, his voice husky and edged with desperation. He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes you gasp as his hands spread your legs wider, pinning you to the mattress.

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, his kisses growing more frantic, more needy. His hands are everywhere, exploring, worshipping, as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. The way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, leaves you utterly undone.

His words make your head spin, and you can’t find a response. You're too caught up in the way he was pounding into you, like a fucking animal.

But Joe doesn’t seem to care; he’s too caught up in you, his hips moving faster and faster until you're practically crying out loud. His hands roam your body as if he’s memorizing every curve, every inch of skin. There’s no pretense now, no games—just raw, unfiltered desire.

You begin to feel the knot in your stomach begin to form, tight and persistent. You begin to grip his shoulders even tighter, your head falling back into the pillow as you moaned.

“O-oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum, please.” You began rambling as your legs wrapped around his waist, his hips not faltering one bit—if anything, he began going faster.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He grunted out, his own impending orgasm. “Cum for me, baby.”

That was all you needed. The knot in your stomach snapped violently, your whole body spasming as you cried out in utter pleasure. The orgasm washed over you perfectly as Joe's hips began to falter, and a few moments later, his cum spilled into you.

You both lie there, tangled in the sheets, your breathing ragged and your hearts racing as the room settles into a heavy, satisfied silence. Joe’s arm is draped lazily across your stomach, his fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns on your skin. The intimacy feels different now—softer, quieter, as if the storm that had built between you for so long had finally passed.

He exhales deeply, his chest still rising and falling against your side. “Well,” he says, his voice low and hoarse, “that was... long overdue.”

You glance over at him, your lips twitching into a faint smile despite yourself. “You think?” you reply dryly, the lingering warmth of the moment making it hard to muster the sharp edge your tone usually carries with him.

Joe turns his head to look at you, his hair mussed and sticking out in every direction, his cheeks still flushed. There’s that cocky grin of his, but it’s softer now, tinged with something you don’t think you’ve seen before—contentment, maybe. “Yeah,” he says, chuckling lightly. “So overdue I’m almost mad at us for waiting this long.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. His grin widens as he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over you. His gaze flicks across your face, and he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “But hey,” he says, his voice taking on a playful tone, “now that I’ve finally got you right where I want you, I think it’s time to make this official.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you tilt your head at him. “Official?”

Joe nods solemnly, though the sparkle in his eyes gives him away. “Yup. A real date. No fighting, no yelling, no storming off. Just you, me, and a public setting where we try very hard not to tear each other’s clothes off.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Oh, is that so?”

“That’s so,” he replies with a grin, catching your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his gaze softening. “Come on, let me take you out. I’ll even behave. Swear.”

You arch a skeptical brow, though the warmth in your chest betrays you. “Behave? You? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Joe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Guess you’ll just have to say yes and find out,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but undeniably sincere.

You roll your eyes again, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Fine,” you say, trying to sound reluctant but failing miserably. “One date. But if you embarrass me, it’s the last one.”

Joe’s grin is blinding as he flops back down beside you, pulling you against his chest. “Deal,” he says, his voice full of triumph. “You won’t regret it. Best date of your life, guaranteed.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he counters, his tone smug as his hand tightens around yours.

Maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[freeabortionslol]

lake house bunny (jack hughes x bsf!reader)

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summary: kinda love triangle (quinn hughes), bsfs to lovers, smut with plot, quinn's new gf tries to get under your skin by pushing you and jack tg, pining (from jack), reader uses the nickname 'bunny', trevor and cole are heavily incorporated in the plot (bc who doesn't love them) warnings!! NSFW, heated makeout, fingering, cursing, drinking, angst, use of the word 'slut', quinn being an asshole a/n: first time writing NSFW ahh! (pls don't judge if u think its bad. I tried.) this has been sitting in my drafts forever. this kinda fits in with the lake house gc (if you like this you should def read those in my master list) BUT it's not canon in the series. I tried my hardest to not make reader seem like a pick me girl but I fear she kind of is. let me preface by saying, I DO NOT CONDONE SLUT SHAMING!! just bc ur jealous doesn't mean you have a right to talk shit on the new girl. also, I can't stand people who hate on other people for 'being too nice' but reader DEFINITELY has her reasons to be suspicious. anyways, happy reading :) -mars wc: 9.6k

18+ content // minors dni

“This is disgusting.” you sat on the boat, arms crossed next to Jack as you glared over at Quinn and his new girlfriend, Adelaide. He was driving the boat with her perched in his lap. Her hands wrapped around him, while he had one on the wheel with the other on her thigh. Your blood boiled at the sight. All you could think of was how much you longed to be the one wrapped around him like you used to.

“Yeah, she’s a slut.” Jack whispered into your ear, eliciting a soft laugh from you. You and Jack had always shared a close bond, one that felt especially strong in the lake house. He was your rock, the one person you could always rely on. Jack knew since you were kids how much you liked Quinn, and he couldn’t help gaining a jealous eye when he saw the two of you together. You never knew how much he actually cared about you, as you were too wrapped up in trying to get Quinn to even just look at you. Since you were teenagers, it’s felt like a game. Quinn would give you the smallest amount of attention and flirtation, then he would ignore you. The cycle repeated throughout every summer at the lake house. You let your arms fall to your side, glancing over to Luke trying to surf the wakeboard as Trevor and Cole cheered him on. You turned your attention to your feet, trying not to look at the eye sore that sat at the wheel.

You sighed, glancing over to Jack who had moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know the worst part is, she’s not a slut. She’s really nice and funny. I actually like her, and I want to hate her so bad.” Jack gave you an empathetic smile, and you couldn’t help but gaze back at the couple. You rested your elbows on your knees, letting your face fall into your hands as you stared. Jack hated seeing you in this state, and he hated his brother more for making you feel like this. He didn’t actually hate his brother, but he couldn’t help but let his anger take over when Quinn was messing with you like this. Jack sighed, looking over to his brother who was laughing with Adelaide, probably about something that wasn’t nearly as funny as the things you said. He looked back to you who had sad eyes as you watched the scene in front of you. 

Jack huffed his breath, causing you to turn your attention towards him. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, noticing the tension in his jaw as he turned to you, worry evident in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, but you could tell he was anything but. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Jack decided to do exactly what Jack Hughes was expected to do in the moment of his best friend’s misery. In a sudden burst of determination, he leaned over and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in one swift motion.

“Jack, what are you doing?” You said with a soft smile, your body instinctively relaxing against him.

“Lifting your spirits.” He smiled, placing one hand on your back and the other on your thigh to pull you in closer. You moved one of your arms around his neck, your free hand landing on his bicep, grazing his bare skin with your thumb. The simple touch sent shivers through his body as he tried to keep himself content. You moved your head to look over to Quinn, but Jack grabbed your chin, shifting your gaze back to himself. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” You graced him with a small half smile, as you leaned further into his touch. “Pretend I just said something funny.”

You rolled your eyes, your tone flat as you spoke. “Haha, Jack! You’re hilarious!” Jack cracked a smile and burst out laughing at your attempt to fake a laugh. Your laughs quickly went from fake to real in an instant. Jack blushed at the sound, pulling you in closer. The two of you carried on in conversation, laughing with each other, and you eventually found your head resting on his shoulder. You were being more touchy with him than normal, in an attempt to make Quinn jealous. Jack was fine with this, welcomed it even, but a part of him felt bad for playing into your vulnerability. While you were in the middle of animatedly telling Jack a story about work, Adelaide’s attention caught sight. She tilted her head and smiled, watching the two of you interact.

“They’re so cute together.” She remarked, drawing Quinn’s attention away from the water. He shifted his gaze, eyes darkening at the sight of you wrapped around his brother. He simply scoffed and returned his glare to the water, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous watching the two of you touch each other like that. He was so used to having you follow him around like a puppy, he didn’t think about the consequences of bringing a girl to the lake house. He kept his eyes on the water trying his best not to look at the two of you, when he heard Adelaide's phone camera shutter.

“Did you just take a picture of them?” He asked, glancing over to her.

“Yeah, it’s just a cute photo. They’ll want it.” She brushed him off with her hand, pointing his sight back to the water.

“Okay. Just don’t post it or share it anywhere. They like to keep their personal lives private.” She agreed and the two of them went back to cuddling in the captain's chair. You were too wrapped up in Jack to even notice Quinn and Adelaide anymore. The two of you were laughing about old times, squeezed into each other. You couldn’t help but lean into the comfortable touch of Jack, who was holding you with such care. The way he rubbed his thumb against your skin and squeezed your thigh, made your body tingle in a way that it had never before. You and Jack were always touchy and affectionate with each other. It’s the kind of friendship you had, but it was never like this. This felt like Jack was being possessive, and you wouldn’t admit it, but you liked it. You noticed the way he would squeeze your thigh whenever he caught Quinn looking as if to say, “She’s mine. You can’t have her.” In his head, he thought no other man should be able to look at you on the boat like he did. He admired the way your skin shone from the sun under your baby blue bikini, the way your bun slightly tugged at your scalp when you laughed, and the way your cherry red lips smiled down at him when he said something cheeky. This beautifully painted picture was for him and him only. He wanted Quinn to know that. Even if he thought you were only doing this to get a rise out of Quinn, Jack looked at it as a distraction from the sadness of the situation for you. He felt a sense of protection over you from Quinn, being an audience member to your little routine every summer. He never wanted you to get hurt because even if he had deep feelings for you, you were still his best friend. 

As the sun began to set, Quinn pulled the boat into the dock. He and Adelaide stepped off first, hand in hand, with Luke and Trevor following close behind. Cole walked over to you and Jack who had coincidentally fallen asleep on each other. His grip on your waist was still tight as you rested your head on his shoulder. His head had fallen onto yours, mouth parted slightly as the two of you slept peacefully. You were both rudely awakened by the sound of Cole clapping his hands together in front of your faces.

“Rise and shine dickheads.” You slowly opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the sudden light. Jack woke up beneath you, rubbing his eyes as he unwrapped his arms from around you. You quickly got back on your feet, Jack following behind you as you both lazily stepped off the boat. “Gotta stay alive for the party, princess.” Cole placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you off the dock. Jack walked closely, ready to snatch you away from Cole’s grip in a millisecond. He noticed the way you covered your arms with your hands as goosebumps grew across your body, without a thought behind his eyes he immediately handed you his warm shirt that had been drying under the sun for hours. You sent him a gratitude filled smile as you slipped on the shirt, feeling instantly warmer. Jack didn’t stop there, he put his arm around your waist, pulling you close, subtly hinting to Cole that this wasn’t a friendly touch anymore. Jack was actually trying to reel you in like he said he’d do years ago. The three of you broke off into your separate rooms to begin getting ready for the annual party thrown by Jack and Quinn. You were dreading the party this year, having to be crammed in the basement surrounded by Quinn’s teammates, you were just thankful that some of the Devils would be there too. As you stepped into the shower, you let the warm water entrap your body, washing away the weight of the day. You stayed still for a second just letting the shower pour down on you, grateful that your horrible boat ride had come to an end. Watching her and Quinn felt worse than actual torture. It wasn’t even the fact that you had feelings for him, because if you were being honest they weren’t extremely strong, it was the fact that he could be so loving and good to her and not you. For years Quinn has led you on and brought you down over and over again, and here he is playing wife and husband with some bunny he met on a roadie. I must be the problem, you thought to yourself, and unfortunately that idea would stick. You exited the shower, slipping a towel over your frame, leaving the bathroom quickly. You entered the bedroom only to see Adelaide sitting at the vanity curling her hair and doing her makeup. You had completely forgotten that you had to share a room with her this summer, considering Ellen and Jim wouldn’t let couples share rooms in their lake house. It didn’t matter if you were adults, the rules were if you aren’t engaged or married, you can’t sleep together.

“Oh hey, Y/n!” She turned her attention from the mirror over to you in your towel. You simply waved to her wearing an awkward smile. She was really nice, almost too nice. “You and Jack looked really cute on the boat today.” 

“Thank you.” You mumbled, not knowing what else to say. You rushed to your dresser, pulling a pair of panties from the drawer before heading to the closet to grab your sundress. The silence was deafening and awkward. In her head, Adelaide wanted to talk to you, but she could sense your tenseness. You however, couldn’t speak to her. You were afraid that you would talk too much and accidentally let too much slip about you and Quinn, or maybe she would start talking about how great he was. That was bound to bring you to tears. You decided at that moment to exit the room, feeling uncomfortable undressing in front of her. Sure, she was a girl, but you barely knew her, and the thought of her judging you made your whole body cringe. You left the room, wrapped in your towel, walking through the halls until you made your way to Jack’s room. You knocked on it twice before hearing a faint “Come in.” Pushing the door open, you found Jack, Cole, and Trevor sprawled out on the bed, their attention fixed on their phones. They were already dressed in their clothes for the party, and you couldn’t help but notice how sharp Jack looked in his fitted white polo and jeans, his hair slightly tousled. You stomped over to the bed, tossing your clothes onto the floor before flopping down on the edge next to Cole’s feet, resting your head against Jack’s thigh.

“What's got you down, Bunny?” Trevor asked, tearing his gaze from his screen.

You sighed dramatically, covering your face with your hands. “I hate her.” 

“Hate who?” Cole questioned, glancing over.

“Quinny’s new girlfriend.” Jack said, running a hand over your wet hair. “You don’t hate her, B. You told me yourself.”

“Ugh! But I want to!” You flopped your arms down in frustration. “It’s just so frustrating.” You sat up to face Jack, making sure your towel was securely wrapped around you. “Do you know how difficult it is to watch someone that's hurt you over and over again, treat some random person like she’s his wife right in front of you?”

Jack laughed, pulling your towel up to your chest that had slightly fallen down. “Can’t say that I have. Not the universal experience you think it is.” You rolled your eyes, pouting your lips slightly at Jack’s absence of understandment.

“Yeah, why don’t you go talk to Addy about it.” Trevor said her name mockingly which caused you to whip your head over to him.

“Say her name again.” You warned, squinting your eyes at him.

Trevor’s face flushed quickly as he tried to quickly pull himself from the situation “Addy.” He said normally.

“Nuh uh. That’s not how you said it!” You shifted your body closer to Trevor, now invading his space. “You don’t like her!” Trevor’s eyes widened in fear.

“T-that's not true. I like everyone! Everyone is my friend.” He let out a nervous laugh before widening his eyes again at the sight of your stare. You stared at him intimidatingly with a small smile, knowing he would eventually crack. “Fine! I don’t like her!” Trevor buried his face in his hands.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms up in triumph as groans emerged from Jack and Cole.

“Great going, Trev. Told you not to say anything.” Cole smacked the side of Trevor’s head.

“You’re just feeding into her delusions.” Jack huffed out.

“Well, you guys are both fine with her, I can’t stand her! Apparently, Bunny can’t either, so allies.” You gave Trevor a fist bump, earning more groans from the boys. “I-I can’t help it! She cornered me and talked about her new Dior makeup set for like an hour!”

You gasped in disbelief “She uses dior?” Trevor nodded his head with wide eyes. “That rich skank!” 

“Exactly! Then, she starts bragging to me about all the things Quinn buys her, like I'm supposed to be jealous. ME. TREVOR ZEGRAS.”

You let out a slight laugh, now lying against the headboard in between Trevor and Cole. “Oh my god. She sucks.”

“No, no, no, no.” Jack interjected. “Bunny, Trevor is filling your head with garbage.” Jack scoffed, sending Trevor a glare before turning his attention back to you. “You’re only saying this stuff because he’s giving you a reason. You know that when you start talking to her again, you’ll forget this conversation ever happened and you’ll be back to being sad because you like her so much.” You whipped your head back over to Jack, indignation written all over your face.

“You called her a slut on the boat!” You pointed at him, gasps escaping from Trevor and Cole.

“Wh- I Di- I was trying to make you feel better!” Jack whisper yelled. Cole shifted in his seat, becoming more interested in the conversation.

“Jacky doesn’t like her either!” Trevor began to laugh, causing a smug smile to wipe across your face. “Admit it, Hughes. You don’t like your big brother’s ‘slut’ girlfriend.” Trevor let out, moving closer to you on the bed.

“She just seems…” He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Too good to be true. Like she’s too nice.” You clapped your hands together in excitement, sitting up in your seat.

“That’s exactly what I'm talking about! It seems fake!” You yelled.

Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help chuckling. “Like, I handed her a drink from the cooler and she said ‘Thank you so much Jack! This is amazing. You’re the best ever.’ Who is that happy to drink a Whiteclaw?” He mocked her voice with a high-pitched tone. 

“She just seems too polished,” Trevor added, nodding his head. “Like she’s trying to win the girlfriend of the year award.” 

Cole leaned back tossing a glance at you “Yeah you wouldn’t catch her dead hanging out with us on the bed in a towel.” You shifted from your position off the bed, signaling the boys to cover their eyes so you could get changed. You turned around, dropping the towel before putting on your dress.

“No, I get it, Jack. She came up to me before we got on the boat, looked me up and down, and said ‘ugh I wish I had your confidence’” Several “oooh”s and hisses from the teeth emerged from the boys. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back it was pretty backhanded.” You said, slipping the straps of your dress up to your shoulders.

“How do I look?” You asked, spinning around as the boys uncovered their eyes, jaws dropping at the sight of you in your checker-patterned red dress. Trevor let out a low whistle as Cole clapped his hands in approval. Jack's gaze lingered over you for a moment longer. His eyes tracing up and down the dress that he had bought you last year on your birthday, wanting nothing more than to rip it off. You walked back over to the bed and Jack quickly sat up, taking the hem of your dress in his hand.

“You look beautiful as always.” He sent you a smile that made your heart race in an instant. Cole and Trevor side exchanged knowing glances with a slight smirk at the interaction. You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair as your cheeks flushed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

An hour into the party, things were finally starting to settle in. You had taken shot after shot, doing your best to forget about the simmering situation in front of you. Quinn and Adelaide were sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around each other as they talked to Elias and Brock. That used to be you. You loved those guys and you missed talking to them, but they were Quinn’s friends, not yours. You were too drunk to even care when Luke pulled you away from your glare to a clearer area of the room. Everything was a blur. You were all smiles and laughs as Luke pulled you closer to him to dance to Pink Pony Club. You were on aux of course, the boys knew it was the only way you would have it. Luke had one hand on his beer and the other on yours as he spun you around. You laughed gracefully as you flopped against him while he jumped around. He set his beer on the table next to him, taking both your hands in his as he moved your arms back and forth. He stuck his tongue out as he jumped, moving closer as you laughed, leaning into him.

“Hey! is that girl looking at us?” He yelled into your ear, picking his beer up from the table.

You looked over your shoulder to see a small brunette girl who was eyeing Luke as she took a sip of her drink.

“Yeah.” You yelled back, a smile growing across your face at Luke’s excitement. “Go get em’ Lukey!” You pushed him away, towards the girl. He immediately got flustered and whatever drunk confidence he had, had suddenly left his body entirely as he went to speak to her. You laughed at the interaction and made your way towards the kitchen, settling yourself next to Nico the moment you caught sight of him. You hopped onto the counter, Nico having to spot you with his hands as you stumbled. You grabbed the side of his head, pulling his ear close to your lips.

“Grab me another drink?” You asked loudly. Nico turned to face you, laughing at your eyes that were lazily falling closed.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to give you some sense of reality. “How about a water?” You grinned wide and nodded your head slowly at him. He smiled and walked off to get you a glass. You stayed on the counter, letting your gaze fall to Quinn and Adelaide yet again. They were standing in a circle, his arms wrapped around her as she chatted with Bella Boeser. You had always been good friends with Bella at social events like these. The two of you would manage to find each other and chat in a corner while Quinn and Brock were off entertaining their friends. It occurred to you in that moment, Bella hadn’t come up to you at all tonight. She seemed much more interested in Adelaide and her attempts at kindness. You felt a wave of sadness wash over you as you realized that this girl was quite literally taking everyone from you. 

“Stop gawking over the Canucks.” Nico walked up, handing you the water before draping an arm around your shoulders. “Being a Devils girl is way better.” You laughed at what you assumed to be an attempt at flirtation, but you were very wrong. “You're lucky your boyfriend is on our team and not theirs.” You nearly spit out the water in your mouth, turning your head to Nico with a stern look.

“Boyfriend? W-what? I don’t have one of those.” You said softly, worry filling your eyes.

“Wait, wait what? You and Jack aren’t-”

“No, why would you think that?” You cut him off loudly, playing with your necklace anxiously. Nico looked at you with wide eyes, tilting his head to the side.

“Uh- the post. I thought it was like a hard launch or something. Doesn’t look too friendly to me.” He laughed. Your eyes grew wider in fear, your mouth parting slightly as your heart beat faster.

Your grip on your necklace tightened as fear struck through your entire body. “Nico, w-what the hell are you talking about? What post?” Nico motioned towards your phone that sat on the counter next to you. You quickly picked it up, handing it over to him after unlocking it. Nico scrolled, and you bit your lip nervously, growing anxious to know what he was talking about. He handed the phone back to you, letting your eyes fall to a clear picture of you sitting on Jack’s lap laughing on the boat, his hands wrapped around your body. You stared down at the screen, heart racing as the realization sank in. The photo was up there for the world to see, one that you don’t even remember taking. Jack's arms wrapped around you, looking too comfortable to be “just friends”. You turned your attention to the top of the screen, seeing that it was Adelaide who posted the photo. Your blood boiled over your anxiety filled body, knowing that it was common knowledge that you and Jack preferred your personal lives to be private. “I-I-I gotta go. Thank you for the water.” You hopped off the counter, leaving your cup next to Nico. You quickly made your way through the swarm of people that filled the basement, looking for Jack. You pushed your way through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispers. Your pulse was thundering through your ears as you made your way to the far side of the basement, where you last saw Jack. Finally, you spotted him leaning against the wall with Jesper and Curtis, laughing and entirely oblivious to the picture Adelaide posted. 

“Jack” You called out, his smile faltering at the sight of your facial expression.

“What's up?” He asked, moving away from his friends to meet you halfway. You didn’t waste any time. You grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could sense your worry so he followed you immediately. You made your way through the upstairs hall until you finally made it to his room. You pushed him inside, quickly shutting the door behind you.

“Bunny, what’s going on?” Holding up your phone, you shoved it into his hand so he could see Adelaide’s post. His face shifted through a range of emotions. Confusion, surprise, and finally a hint of frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply, as he planted himself on the edge of the bed. “Are you kidding me? She posted this?” He groaned.

You nodded, crossing your arms. “And now everyone is going to think we’re together. Nico already thought you were my boyfriend.” A hint of sadness behind your voice.

“There is something wrong with that woman.” Jack huffed out, rubbing his neck. You sat down next to him, holding his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder. He leaned into your touch, placing his head on top of yours. “I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Before you could respond, there was a knock on the door. The two of you turned and the door opened slightly before Trevor and Cole poked their heads inside, their faces a mix of curiosity and amusement. 

“You two good in here?” Trevor asked, eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you.

“Can we get five minutes without the two of you barging in?” Jack rolled his eyes as Trevor and Cole settled themselves in the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Five minutes, huh? That’s all you need?” Cole grinned, leaning against the wall.

Jack groaned, throwing his hands up “Seriously, dude?” Trevor made his way over to Jack, leaning over his shoulder to see the phone. He squinted his eyes slightly, trying to get a better look.

You looked up at Trevor, letting go of Jack’s arm. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open as he looked at the phone. “Holy shit.”

“What? What is it?” Cole asked, pushing himself from the wall to get a good look. He took the phone from Jack’s hand, pulling it closer to his eyes. “Oh my god. Did you even know she took this?” You shook your head, biting your lip ever so slightly. Jack huffed his breath, standing up to face Cole and Trevor. 

“This is bullshit.” He said, taking the phone from Cole’s hand. “I’m gonna talk to Quinn.” Jack started making his way to the door before you quickly stepped in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. You could feel his heavy breaths, the way his chest moved up and down in a pattern you’d never seen before. 

“No, wait,” You said, your voice quiet. “Let me talk to her first. I’m sure she just didn’t know, let’s not throw her under the bus.” You looked up at Jack with pleading eyes, taking your phone from his hand. 

Behind you, Trevor crossed his arms as he shook his head. “Don’t defend her-”

“I’m not defending her.” You cut him off, your voice raising slightly. “I-I’m just saying, let’s not snitch. Let me talk to her, woman to woman. I’m sure she’ll take it down.” Jack let out a heavy sigh, stepping back slightly to silently give you permission to talk to her. You nodded your head, glancing over to Trevor and Cole with a small smile before making your way out of the room. You didn’t realize how drunk you truly were until you started making your way down the hall. The adrenaline of seeing the post had sobered you up, but only for a split second. You stumbled your way down the stairs, your grip on the railing firm as the room began to spin around you. You stood at the bottom step, scanning the basement for Adelaide. You finally found her standing by the kitchen counter, her blonde hair now tied in a low bun to reveal her gorgeous collarbone. You pouted slightly, seeing how perfect she looked knowing that you were a hot, drunk mess. You made your way towards her, repeating affirmations to yourself as you built up your confidence. When you reached her, a smile grew across her face almost immediately. 

“Hey, Y/n!” She exclaimed, her tone happy. “I haven’t seen you all night.” You sent her a sheepish smile, anxiously playing with your necklace again.

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, trying to find that confidence you were meant to have. “I know! It’s so crazy in here.” You let out a forced laugh, trying to hide your nervousness, which she mirrored quickly. “Listen, I gotta talk to you about something.” She tilted her head, sending you a closed mouthed smile as she reached for her drink. She took a sip, silently waiting for you to speak. “This um…this picture you posted of me and Jack. I-I know you mean well, but we do like to keep that part of our lives private.”

Adelaide placed her drink on the counter, her eyes widening as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You let out a sigh of relief and a teeth-showing smile at her response. 

“It is totally fine.” You said, letting out a relieving laugh. “Just, with the media it’s kind of hard.”

She nodded her head, gracing you with a smile. “I totally understand that.” Your smile grew wider, wondering why this was so hard for you to do in the first place.

“Yeah, so if you could just take it down-”

“Oh, no.” She cut you off. Your smile quickly faded as you stared at her. Her fake smile still plastered on her face. 

You let out a nervous laugh, gripping onto your necklace. “I-I…uh.” You paused, clearing your throat. “What?”

She picked her drink back up, raising her eyebrows. “It looks good on my instagram. Plus, you and Jack look super cute. Don’t stress it.” She laughed, letting her grin go wide. “There’s so many pictures of you and Quinn on the internet, so what’s one with Jack?” She shrugged her shoulders passive aggressively as she walked away into the crowd. You were left standing there in pure shock. Your mouth dropped, your arms falling limp to your side as you tried to process what just happened. The tension in your chest tightened as her words replayed in your mind. The dismissiveness, the fake sweetness masking her clear intentions, it hit you like a gut punch. You were rooted to your spot, staring at where she’d disappeared in the crowd. Your fingers still toyed with your necklace, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake. She was jealous. You’d never even thought of the idea that maybe Adelaide would be a little shaken up by staying in the house with her boyfriend’s childhood fling. You assumed Quinn kept his mouth shut about the two of you, considering he never cared about you that much. What did he tell her? What could he have possibly said to her that would make her want to put you and Jack on blast to the internet? 

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands land on your shoulders. “How’d it go?” You heard Cole’s voice shout through your ear, but still not enough to knock you from your state. You couldn’t even move to look at him, your gaze centered on the crowd.

“I-um…” You cleared your throat. “She said no.” You said flatly. 

Cole moved his head closer to yours, glancing at you with a side eye. “No?” You knocked yourself out of your daze, turning fully to face him. 

“She’s jealous.” You said quietly, leaning in closer so he could hear you. “Said there’s so many photos of me and Quinn, so why not have one with Jack.” Cole’s mouth gaped open in shock, no one expecting her to say no. He was speechless, unaware of what to say in this moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Jack walking closer, a stern expression on his face. You let out a sigh of defeat, waiting for him to walk over.

Jack could sense the tension as he stared between you and Cole. “What happened?” He asked, the sentence coming out more as a statement than a question. You crossed your arms, your fingers digging into your sides as you glanced at Cole. He still looked too stunned to speak, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find words that just wouldn’t come. Jack’s gaze didn’t waver from you, his brow furrowed in concern as he waited for your answer.

“She said no,” You finally said, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. You clenched your jaw, betraying your anger that simmered just below the surface. 

Jack blinked, his confusion quickly shifting to irritation. “She what?”

“She’s jealous.” Cole interrupted, his words finally making their way out. “She’s using you to show people that Bunny’s with you and not Quinn…I think?” Jack stared at you for a moment, processing what Cole just said. Then he muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he turned slightly away, his frustration evident in every movement. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, guys!” Quinn yelled from the couch, turning down the music. You clenched your jaw at the sound, watching Trevor walk up behind Cole. “Come over here with us.” You scanned the couch seeing Adelaide, Quinn, Brock, and Bella all squished onto the couch. Nico and Jesper sat next to each other on the floor while Elias sat across from them. Luke pranced his way to the big chair, pulling the brunette from earlier down with him. You bit the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to do at this moment. 

“What’d I miss?” You heard Trevor whisper into Cole’s ear. 

“Not good.” Cole mumbled back.

You jolted slightly at the feel of Jack’s hand intertwining with yours. He took a sip from his beer bottle before pulling you to the living area with him, Trevor and Cole following close behind. Everyone in the room had their gaze centered on the four of you as you silently made your way over. Quinn was staring especially hard at your hand intertwined with Jack’s. He let go of your hand to allow you to take your seat on the floor in between himself and Trevor. The room felt like it was holding its breath, everyone’s gaze locked on you and Jack as you sat down. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You couldn’t help but notice the way Quinn’s jaw tightened, his hand resting on the back of the couch near Adelaide but clenched just enough to betray his irritation. Your eyes darted around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as the anxiety rose through your body. 

Quinn cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat. “We’re gonna play truth or dare,” He said, causing Jack’s eyebrows to knot. “Addy’s idea.” You glanced over to Adelaide who sent you a shit eating grin, like she had you in this perfect trap designed specifically for you. 

“Isn’t this a kids game?” You said, taking a sip of Jack’s beer bottle. 

Quinn scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly before looking back at you. “It’ll be like old times.” You felt a lump in your throat as your heart dropped, but you were quick to swallow it down. Jack’s arm moved to cross behind your back, not quite making contact with your skin, but it was enough to make your heart race. Quinn went first, daring Brock to take three shots in under ten seconds which he failed miserably at. Brock asked Elias to tell the story of how he lost his virginity.

“I was fifteen, after a school dance in my car. It was terrible.” 

Elias asked Luke to tell the craziest story about Quinn in high school.

“Well when Bunny was sixteen-”

“He said tell a story about Quinn, not Bunny.” Jack was quick to interrupt at your defense. Luke told a story about Quinn getting drunk and trying to climb up the house to his bedroom window. Luke then dared Trevor to let him draw a dick on his face, which Trevor was drunk enough to be excited about. You laughed hard when Trevor turned to face you, a realistic looking cock on his forehead with the cheesiest grin you’d ever seen. Trevor asked Cole to tell the room his celebrity crush.

“Weak question. Meryl Streep. Love a good gilf.”

“Gross, Cole.”

Cole dared Nico to share his last google search with the group.

“Nico Hischer sexy tweets? That’s insane.” 

Nico turned to Adelaide, who picked truth. He asked her what the most expensive gift Quinn had bought her was, and her eyes beamed like this was the question she’d been dying to answer. 

“Probably my Louboutins.” 

Your heart dropped when her gaze centered on you, a smug smile wiped across her face. You kept your expression stern, wanting to show her that you weren’t intimidated. 

“Truth or Dare?” She asked, a hint of aggressiveness behind her voice.

You took another sip of Jack’s beer, letting your legs come uncrossed as you leaned back on your hands. “Dare.” Jack, Trevor, and Cole all let out small but noticeable sighs. They knew you only said dare because you were drunk and determined, and they all wished you would just keep your mouth shut at that moment. 

Adelaide let out a soft laugh, like she had you exactly where she wanted. “I dare you…” She paused, letting her words hang in the air knowing it would cause you more anxiety. “No-” She said, causing your brows to furrow. “I dare you and Jack,” The words sent a shiver down your spine, knowing you couldn’t back out. “To go into the closet for seven minutes in heaven.” Jack groaned quietly as you bit the inside of your cheek. The circle boomed with laughs and whistles. Everyone had a smile plastered on their face except for you, Jack, Cole, Trevor, and shockingly Quinn. The laughter and whistles of the group felt deafening as Adelaide’s smug expression deepened. Jack shifted uncomfortably beside you, running a hand through his hair as his cheeks flushed. 

You exhaled sharply, masking your nerves with a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Your voice was steady, but your heart was racing as you stood up. Jack’s eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, searching your face for some kind of reassurance or escape. Finding none, he reluctantly stood too, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Seven minutes,” Adelaide chirped with a saccharine sweetness, glancing at her phone as she set the timer. “Don’t keep us waiting.” The closet door swung open, and you stepped inside, Jack following closely behind. The space was tight, filled with jackets that smelled faintly of cologne and laundry detergent. The door clicked shut, plunging you into darkness save for a thin sliver of light from the bottom. Not being able to see in the darkness, you pulled out your phone.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, his tone curious as his frame towered over you.

You bit your nails, opening up messages. “Texting the groupchat.”

You: okay it’s official i hate this bitch.

Cole: You should see the smile on her face rn

Trevor: Yeah she looks like pennywise kinda

You: just glad me and trevor were right for once 🥳

Trevor: Me and Cole will try to brainstorm some good revenge plots

Cole: Yeah you guys just thug out your seven minutes

Trevor: In heaven

Jack: Fuck off Trevor.

You sighed, putting your phone in your pocket. The room was dark again as you and Jack stood, facing each other. The closet was tiny and you didn’t realize how close the two of you were until you felt his breath on your forehead. It sent shivers down your spine almost immediately as you tried to keep yourself content. The tension in the closet was palpable as the soft sound of Jack shifting his weight echoed in the cramped space. You felt his hesitation as much as your own, the unspoken words swirling between you like a storm. His breath, warm and close, made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“I don’t know what to do…” You let out. “in this weird situation with her.” Jack let out a hard sigh, which you felt against your skin. 

“Just- don’t think about it.” He said gently, his hand hovering over yours. “Use this time as your distraction from the night.” He had fully enveloped your hand at this point, slowly moving closer towards you. You couldn’t see, but his face was plastered with a bright red tint when you began rubbing circles against his hand. The sounds of laughter erupted from the living room, muffled but still noticeable. In just two seconds, all that noise faded into the background as you felt Jack squeeze your hand. You could feel the heat from his body as he moved closer, your chests almost clashing together. 

“I-Is this weird?” You asked, your voice just barely above a whisper as you felt yourself gravitating towards him.

“Is what weird?” He mumbled. You felt your breath hitch as your faces now sat merely inches apart. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to get closer. 

“This.” You whispered, your lips so close to touching as Jack moved an unexpected hand to your waist, a touch that sent hard palpitations to your heart. 

Jack let out another breath, his thumb now tracing circles against your hip. “Does it feel right?”

You bit your bottom lip, shutting your eyes at the feeling of his voice vibrating against your face. “Mhm,” You let out, nodding your head. 

“Then, no. It’s not weird.” He whispered, ghosting his words against your lips. The hand that was holding yours moved up to your face, cupping it gently. Your stomach twisted at the touch, gently leaning in closer. Your knees closed together, as if keeping them open would unleash every sexual feeling that had been building up for the past ten years. You felt your heart almost beat out of your chest as Jack finally closed the space between the two of you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. It was hesitant at first, like he was waiting for your permission, but you quickly kissed him back, biting his bottom lip gently. Endless hours of flirtatious teasing, watching you swoon over Quinn, it all led up to this moment. The kiss quickly grew hungrier as Jack’s hands pulled you closer by your waist, tasting every lick of the satisfaction he’d yearned for all these years. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, letting your fingers explore his hair as he moved closer against you. The kiss was slow at first, but quickly intensified when you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter as he devoured every inch of you. He pushed you up against the wall, his pelvis absentmindedly grinding against you which caused a slight moan to escape from the back of your throat. You felt your stomach tingle as a flood rushed to your panties, moving your hands to grip his shirt. Jack’s lips moved in a way that was perfectly catered to you, like it was something you needed but never knew. His hands made their way up your body, one settling on your back to cradle you. His tongue pushed further into your mouth, almost reaching towards your throat. His other hand found its way to your thigh, slowly reaching up your dress to toy with the string of your underwear, twisting it with his finger against your skin. He pulled back only the slightest amount, his lips ghosting yours. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He whispered against your lips, the feel of his breath causing you to shudder, growing hungrier by the second. You weren’t thinking about Adelaide or Quinn, your mind was only on Jack and how bad you realized you wanted him.

“I need you.” You whispered back, your lips growing dry from his absence. “Please,” Jack didn’t waste any time before crashing his lips back onto yours, moving more intensely than before. The kisses became sloppy, like he was starving for this feeling his entire life. His fingers made their way down, just barely touching your folds through the fabric of your panties. You let out a heavy breath through the kiss, silently begging him to keep going as he teased you slightly. He bit down on your bottom lip as he moved the fabric to the side, revealing every inch of yourself. You whined slightly at his touch, finding yourself in this moment of vulnerability you’d never expected to have with Jack. His finger lightly brushed over your heat, testing the waters as you ran your hand through his hair to pull him closer. 

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.” You said eagerly before pulling his lips back onto yours. Jack moved his hands to the strings of your panties, slowly pulling them down to your shaking knees, not removing his lips from yours once. Your hand was now fully tangled in his hair, the other on his back to pull him closer. Jack wasted no time before allowing a finger to enter your cunt, feeling the wetness that was made just for him. You let out a soft, quiet whimper against his lips as he gently explored your walls. He pumped his finger in and out slowly, removing his lips from yours to plant kisses on your neck. You leaned your head back, breathing heavily as his thumb made contact with your clit. “Jack,” You whispered. Never in your life did you expect to have any part of him inside of you, but now that you were here, you couldn’t imagine your life without it. 

“You have no idea what this fuckin’ dress does to me.” He mumbled softly against your skin.

“Fuck.” You let out quietly as he entered another finger, filling you in just the right way. Your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer as his motions grew faster. Your legs locked around his fingers, his other hand finding its way under your dress to your breast. He continued pumping in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit as he reconnected his lips with yours. He felt your insides, like it was a forbidden place he’d been waiting so long to explore. His hand made its way under your bra, squeezing your breast gently. You tried to silence yourself, but it was becoming more and more difficult with every thrust of his fingers. You felt yourself reaching peak, which was shocking in such a small amount of time. Something about the way Jack moved around your body, touching every spot in the exact right spot. “I’m gonna come.” You whispered, pulling back slightly. 

He grinned as he moved his mouth down to your collarbone, placing gentle kisses across your neckline. “Let go for me, bunny.” His motions intensified, your breaths growing heavier by the second. He nibbled slightly against your skin, but not enough to leave marks. You let out a quiet moan as you finally released your juices around his fingers, letting him ride you out until the end of your climax. Your chest rose and fell heavily as Jack removed his fingers, taking them to his mouth. Both of you wished you could see each other’s faces at this moment, but the closet was pitch black. Years of suppressed feelings you didn’t even know you had, all spilled out onto Jack Hughes’ fingers. He moved his hands down to your knees to pull up your panties, your hands still tangled in his hair. “You alright?” He asked, his voice quiet but audible.

You removed your hands from his hair, letting your body fall back on the wall. Your breathing was still heavy, but you managed to speak. “Yeah,” You whispered. “I-I’m good- that was…” You paused for a second, your face quickly capturing a wide grin. “That was amazing.” Jack let out a sigh of relief, a smile growing on his face as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was gentle, allowing it to last for only a few seconds.

He pulled back, his hand coming up to cradle your face. “Listen, Bunny-”

“Seven minutes is up!” The door jolted open, causing you and Jack to quickly separate as Trevor stood in the doorway. He glanced between the two of you, a wide smile growing across his face as he took in the sight. You both looked rough, your hair messy, clothes not exactly straight. He let a small laugh escape his lips as he held the door open. “No way.” Was all he said before Jack rolled his eyes, giving Trevor a hit to the shoulder as he made his way back to the living room. You stood there in shock, running a hand through your now frizzy hair as you looked at Trevor. “That good, huh?” He asked, a sly grin across his face. You rolled your eyes, throwing your hair up into a ponytail as you made your way out of the closet.

“Shut up, asshole.” You mumbled, causing a giggle to erupt from Trevor. Trevor’s laugh followed you as you stepped back into the circle, your cheeks burning under the weight of everyone’s stares. You refused to meet Adelaide’s gaze, knowing her smug smile was probably plastered across her face. Instead, you focused on Jack, who had taken a seat on the couch and was pointedly scrolling through his phone, avoiding eye contact with anyone. You sighed, wanting him to look up for just one second, but his entire face was red and his lips were puffing out. “So,” you broke the silence. “Who's next?” 

Quinn looked up at you, biting the inside of his cheek as Adelaide shifted her weight onto him. “I’m going to bed.” He said flatly before leaving his spot on the couch, Adelaide following close behind, giving you a wink before walking up the stairs. The tension in the air was thick as you took a seat next to Jack, his arm absentmindedly draping over your shoulders which caused your heart to drop. Cole and Trevor both had wide eyes, looking at you and Jack, then to each other. Little by little, everyone made their way out of the house, the party simmering down as you and Jack stayed in your own little world. He scrolled through his phone as your eyes grew tired, falling asleep against his body. Luke took his new ‘friend’ up to his room by the end of the night, Bella and Brock left shortly after with Elias following behind, then finally Jesper and Nico passed out on the floor of the kitchen. It was just you, Jack, Cole, and Trevor left downstairs. The living room had quieted down to the faint hum of music playing in the background and the occasional clink of empty bottles being cleaned up. Jack’s arm remained draped over your shoulders, his phone still glowing in his hand as he scrolled absentmindedly. You felt his warmth against your side, your head resting against him as your eyelids grew heavier. Across the room, Trevor and Cole exchanged another round of wide-eyed glances, their smirks only growing. Trevor leaned closer to Cole and muttered something, and Cole stifled a laugh, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unnoticed. 

“What’s so funny?” Jack asked, his voice calm but with a hint of annoyance as he finally glanced up from his phone. 

“Oh, nothing,” Trevor replied, feigning innocence, but his grin betrayed him. “Just… didn’t expect you two to get so close tonight.” 

Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t move his arm from around you, a fact that clearly wasn’t lost on Trevor. “Grow up, Zegras.”

Trevor yawned dramatically, standing up and stretching. “Well, I think that’s my cue to crash. Try not to do anything weird while I’m asleep, you two.” 

“Go away, Trevor,” you muttered, leaning in closer to Jack’s side. His hand moved to your shoulder, stroking soothing circles with his thumb.

“You wanna go to bed, Bunny?” He asked quietly, leaning his head against yours. You nodded your head slightly, sitting up to let Jack stand. Jack stood up, offering you a hand to help you off the couch. His movements were slow, almost hesitant, as if he didn’t want to disturb the calm bubble the two of you had created. You took his hand, your legs a little wobbly from the unspoken moment in the closet as you followed him toward the stairs. Behind you, Cole gave a low whistle, and Trevor made a mockingly loud kissing sound. “Goodnight, children,” Jack deadpanned, throwing a pillow in their general direction without even turning around. You couldn’t help but grin, shaking your head as you climbed the stairs behind Jack. Once you reached the hallway, the noise of Trevor and Cole’s laughter faded, leaving just the sound of your soft footsteps. Jack led you into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Without you having to ask, he went to his dresser to pull out a Devils t-shirt and a pair of shorts for you to wear. You smiled at the gesture through your sleepy eyes, taking the clothes from his hand. 

“I um…” Jack paused, looking towards you as you held the clothes close. “I wanna talk about it.” He said quietly. You smiled at him, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He followed close behind, sitting down next to you. His thigh brushed against yours as he looked into your eyes, taking your hand in his. “Bunny, I-” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, letting out a sigh. “I care about you. Like, a lot.” Vulnerability wiped across his face as you sat next to him, brushing your thumb back and forth on his hand. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his vulnerability washing over you. Jack wasn’t someone who usually wore his emotions on his sleeve, and seeing him like this, nervous and sincere, made your chest tighten in the best way.

“I care about you too, Jack,” you said softly, your voice steady even though your heart felt like it was racing. 

He let out a breath, like he’d been holding it since he started speaking. “I mean, I really care about you,” he clarified, his eyes locking onto yours. “It’s not just… I don’t know how to explain it. You’re not just my friend. You’ve never been just my friend.” The room felt impossibly small, the air between you charged with emotions neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. His hand tightened slightly around yours, like he was afraid you might pull away. 

“Jack,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because I didn’t want to mess things up. You’re my best friend, Bunny. And you always had this annoyingly huge crush on Quinn, which pissed me off more than it should because he just tore you down over and over again. if you didn’t feel the same, I didn’t want to ruin… this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his cheeks tinged pink. 

You smiled, your thumb continuing to brush against his hand. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. Instead, you leaned in, closing the small gap between you and pressing your lips softly against his. Jack froze for a moment, his brain clearly trying to catch up with what was happening. But then his free hand came up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he kissed you back. It wasn’t hurried or desperate like before, it was warm and gentle, filled with all the unspoken feelings he’d been holding onto for so long. 

When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of disbelief and relief written all over his face. “So… does this mean you feel the same?” 

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “What do you think, genius?”

Jack’s lips curved into a smile, his confidence returning now that the weight of uncertainty had lifted. “I think I should’ve said something a long time ago.”

“Well,” you teased, your voice light, “better late than never.”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly but not letting go of your hand. “So… are you still okay sharing the bed? Or should I take the couch now that this is out in the open?”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to change into the clothes he’d given you. “You’re not going anywhere, Hughes.” Jack laughed quietly, lying back on the bed with his hands behind his head as he watched you. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

As you climbed into bed next to him, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. For the first time that night, the tension melted away, replaced by a sense of calm and certainty that you hadn’t felt before. And as you drifted off to sleep in Jack’s arms, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something even better than you could’ve imagined.

[thisismeracing]

Paddock Pass (Taylor's version) | CL16

⸺ there are many perks to being Charles Leclerc's girlfriend. You get free paddock passes, you're able to watch him chase his dreams while you work on yours from the garage, and of course, you get Charles. What you didn't know is that he would add a new thing to this list: your favorite singer in the garage (based on this request). ✓ mentions of food; friends to lovers; not proofread; fem!reader (she/her). 0.8k words

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee)

Life has a funny way of making things happen. You knew it from an early age, and it was kind of funny looking back at it now, as Charles' girlfriend.

As a shy kid from Monaco, your childhood wasn't exactly the most social one - you were shy, wore glasses, and liked to keep things to yourself. That's how you ended up discovering Taylor's music and became friends with Charles at the early age of 7.

During the summer holidays, with not many friends to enjoy the time except for one girl from school who happened to be traveling, you ended up going with your mom to the hairdresser. The owner saw how uncomfortable you were with all the noise and people and showed you to the waiting area, a room with a big TV and a few toys. You were the only one there, and the echo of the TV caught your attention. It was playing a song you had never heard before, a blonde singer wearing glasses and pajamas sang with all her strength. You were entranced by the image, so much so that the door opening didn't catch your attention until someone poked at your shoulder. "Hi, I'm Charles," and just like Taylor was singing, he belonged with you.

Eighteen years later, you were in the Ferrari garage working on your computer while Charles got ready for quali. Since it was the Vegas GP, and you didn't like the rush and lights that much, you chose to stay in the deepest area of the home motor curled on a blanket waiting until it was time for the race to begin.

"Cherie, Kika is looking for you at the Alpine garage," Charles knocked on the door, and peeked his head inside, smiling fondly at you.

You adjusted your glasses, "Tell her to come here."

"She's having lunch there, told me she got your favorite snacks for dessert," he explained, and you bit your lips. "There are not as many people out there since it's qualy," Charles tried to reassure you and you nodded, grabbing your cardigan and lacing your fingers with his.

"I told her to wait for you. Hopefully, she did," he had this funny smile on his face, and if you weren't so tired from the flight the other day, you would nag him about it.

You walked hand in hand to the Alpine garage, Charles stopping here and there to take a few pictures, but nothing as crazy as Sundays usually are.

When you finally reached the pink and blue facility, things seemed different. You didn't know how to pinpoint what exactly it was, but you felt like the usual rush was slightly blessed, and from previous experience, you bet someone important was inside.

"I've been waiting forever to do this for you, I couldn't have done it sooner because of the whole world tour thing and you know how hectic it was for her, right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling your glass frames move in your face, "What are you talking about, Char?"

He shook his head, kissed your forehead, and entered the garage. The first thing you saw was a mass of a man, huge. Then you heard his laugh, and it sounded familiar. The second he turned around with a big smile on his face, you felt your knees weakened, not because of him but because of someone likely there along with him.

"THE Travis Kelce?" You whispered to Charles still holding his hand, and he beamed.

"Hey, Yn! Nice to meet you! Your boyfriend was just talking about you minutes ago," he took a few steps in your direction, offering you a handshake, and you took it.

"He said you were the biggest fan," you heard her voice before seeing her, and when she stepped around Travis, you almost fainted.

"Oh, sweet Jesus-," you screeched, and everyone laughed.

"Taylor! Oh my God! I've been listening to you since I was a kid," you whispered, trying to hold back the tears and the laughter of happiness bubbling inside.

"Careful now, or you'll make me feel old," she joked and opened her arms, motioning for you to get inside the hug. You glanced at Charles, silently thanking him, and crashed into your idol's arms. Her hug was warm and tight, and you felt like you could stay there for hours. Her hands caressed your back up and down feeling how emotional you got and trying to comfort you.

When you took a step back, you saw how her gaze softened, looking at the T pendant Charles got you when you were still little kids. She pointed to a nearby bench, "Everyone's trying to explain how this works, but I still don't get it. Can you enlighten me on the F1 world as someone who's been in it since childhood?" Your brows furrowed in a second, but you smiled brightly at her. She seemed to get your confusion, explaining, "Charles was updating us on how you were the biggest Swiftie since you were a kid."

"Yeah, I met him when I first listened to your song too," you observed, sitting down, and turning to her.

"What? Now you gotta tell me this! This paddock pass was so worth it. F1 rules can wait, I'm a sucker for a love story."

"That I know," you giggled looking from her to Travis who seemed to be in a deep conversation with Charles.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I tried to follow all the details in the request, hope it's good enough <3 I hope you guys liked this! Make sure to like and reblog if you did *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘  ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

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[amastarxoxo]

ㅤ          ㅤ          ㅤ   ˇ ✿ ՚՚ love is my curse ՚՚  ഒ

part 2 of worthless talking

thank you sm! i honestly didn’t think that worthless talking would be THAT good to most people and angsty(?) cause i was never good at writing angst. but thank you so much everyone !! and im almost at 200 followers! thank you very much and thank you arcane for being the glow up of my account ( now i just have to worry about what to write after arcane officially dies ) so if i end up doing the mini series considering it a 200 followers special ( ? maybe )

making up with arcane characters after arguing

S1! jinx , S2! vi , S2! caitlyn , and ekko x fem! reader

reconciliation , hurt/comfort , mentions of abandonment issues ( jinx ) , friends → lovers ( vi ) , mentions of marriage ( caitlyn ) , lover boy! ekko , cursing , mild suggestive ( vi )

masterlist ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა navigation

not proofread or requested

JINX

the past few days have been quiet. too fucking quiet. especially for jinx. by now, she would have a talking to her hallucinations or blowing something—anything up but she being held down by something, this agonizing feeling in her chest by she hasn’t had a clue of what is it. she going on her daily routine to see what’s so off. when she wakes up, she wakes up next to you; she always talks to you; when she’s collecting parts, it’s always with you; when she’s making another invention it’s with—you. that’s the issue. jinx cursed at herself for her realization that she pushed you when she promised herself that she wouldn’t. no wonder she’s been so “unstable” according to sevika and silco.

she immediately dropped everything, forgetting about the fishbones project and left the lair. and immediately went to your place. she took out her spare key and immediately searched up and down, every corner for you but your house is empty. she was starting to panic, why aren’t you home? did you just get up and leave? she didn’t think her actions would hurt you that bad, she just wants to apologize for what she done, she didn’t mean it. “Jinx?” a soft voice creeps up behind her, “what are you doing?” jinx snaps her head around, tears resting on the edge of her eyes. “baby…” jinx breathes out.

You placed your bags next to the front door and closes the door behind you. suddenly jinx tackles you into a tight hug, sobbing into your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your waist. you pull her in close, letting her have her moment. “what’s wrong J?” you asked her softly, as she starts to cool off, small sniffles and tears drying up on her face. “i…i thought you left me after that argument we had.” her grip tighten around you. “please don’t leave me…i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to call you annoying o-or you were nagging me i promise and i—” you smash your lips into hers, causing her to softly melt into the kiss and share the warmth of the tight embrace. you slip out of the grasp of her lips and stare at her flushed face with a smile. “im not going to abandon you my love, im always going to be here.” jinx held your hand tightly, “i’m sorry.” you reciprocate her action, “i love you.” “i love you too.”

VI

another day, another lost at the pit fight. no amount of training until she sore, drinking her sorrows away, destroying her life is making the pain go away. no matter what she does, she always recalls the scared look you gave her, it sends a shiver down her spine each time. the horror of herself that you had to experience firsthand. the side that she didn't want you to see; caitlyn, whatever; but you. she deeply regrets that she lost her cool with you, off all people it just had to be you. she didn't bother drinking or training today, she can't. she can't even sleep without your face flashes in her thoughts. strolling around the undercity doesn't help much besides giving her some fresh air of the city she was raised in. she doesn't know how but she ended up at the brothel.

walking down the hallway, rooms filled with variety of sexual activities, workers and customers; she didn't care, she just ended one person right now. she walked past the other offices, she knows you mostly handle the money and service of the other workers for the customers. looking through the office window, she sees you looking over some paper works and envelopes filled with money. she twisted the door knob and closes the door behind her as she enters your office. you glance up at now black haired girl, her pink hair seeping through the tips and ends of it. "how can i help you, violet?" she tenses up and her breath hitches as you use her full name. "it's vi for you."

"who?" vi walks around your desk, you watch her cautiously, she hooks her arm around yours, pulling you up and off your desk chair. making you sit on the desk and pinning you down with both of her arms you trapping in between, "viol-" "vi. say my name correctly." she hovers above you, she slips herself in between your legs. your heart pounding in your chest, "fine fine, vi, what do you need?" vi chuckled dryly, " i want you, sweet." you scoff, "me? or that piltover girl?" vi grabbed your waist, "listen, i realized i was wrong; i care for you, and i love you, not caitlyn." her hands move to hips, pulling you in closer to her, "you were always there for me, even when you had nothing to do with me and caitlyn's mission you were there as always. and i'm sorry for taking that for granted and im sorry for calling you a prostitute." her thumbs absentmindly rubbing circles into your skin, she leans in closer and presses her lips against yours, pulling you into a soft passionate kiss; filled with love and affection. you pull away slowly, "I forgive you."

CAITLYN

you lay restless in your bed at home, away form caitlyn, you don't want to believe she's actually cheating, but the way she act together, maddie is always close to caitlyn, always touching, acting shy around your fiancee. you would always try to find time to bring it up but with the things going on with jinx and ambessa, your time with her lessen to almost nothing, even at night, she's always exhausted and out of breath. you're so lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice you were crying until a maid rushed to you side.

caitlyn could barely focused on the work in front of her, when she's training with ambessa, she seemed so distracted and distant from everything, according to the ambessa, "you do not come back until you're back on your feet, commander." the silence hung in the air. "we need not distractions for justice." that the last thing caitlyn heard before she left and went home to her office. maddie returned, he usual soft and comforting aura, it didn't feel like anything in the first place, but that's how maddie tries to come off. "commander, are you alright? you've been staring at the paperwork for 15 minutes now." maddie nervously chuckled. "I'm fine...just.."she rubs her temple in a pain and annoyance. "excuse me, i have to go see someone." she gets up and grabs her coat and leaves without hearing anything from maddie.

she knocked on the front door of your home, waiting patiently for you, she hears small shuffles and movements behind the door, she hears a faint metal sound; you're looking through the peephole. "what do you want caitlyn?" you open the door in a slight crack, enough for her to see and hear you. "hello...dear, you don't look well." caitlyn's face filled with worry and regret, voice low. "I'm fine." swiftly caitlyn, pushes the door open and pulls you into a tight hug. the cold air from outside slips into your home, causing you to shiver. "I'm sorry..." caitlyn started, "i never noticed how maddie was acting until recently, i assure...no...i promise you that I'm not cheating on you; maddie doesn't compare to you. never has and never will." you broke out into small sobs and sniffles, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry.." caitlyn caresses your head gently, soothing you as you cried in her chest.

EKKO

since you recovered from that night, you kept your distance from your boyfriend, even on patrols with you, you stayed nearby but kept a small distance between you two, and of course he noticed, i mean he had to with the whole firelight community scolded him for lashing his anger out onto you.

another night again with patrolling with him, and you sat down at the top of the tunnel, where you got stabbed at but this same time, you're with your boyfriend; who seems extra tensed knowing this is where you go hurt. where he failed to protect you, when you didn't listen to him. you notice that he is shaking, violently. you hesitated but reached out and touched his knee, he stares at you in shock.

"calm down, ekko, if you're aren't fit for patrol then we could call-" "no!" he blurted out, "no...that won't be necessary, i'm fine." he continued on. the night sky and cool breeze surround the both of you. "I'm sorry-" you both said at the same time, you stared at each other. "it's okay-" it happened again. you chuckled, the blush rising on your face and also his. "i love you, fire." he kisses your forehead and cheek. "i love you too.." you pulled him into a soft kiss, officially calling this a good night.

tags : @sseleniaa @woldangnight

©︎ A M A T E R A S U. all rights reserved. please don't plazarize, copy, or steal any of my works without my permission, thank you !

guys say thank you to my mother who allowed me to finish this on her laptop or else you wouldn’t have seen this at all this week nonetheless this early .

[nottswitch]

[ have you been naughty this year? have you been nice? that’s for you to know and for me to wonder. put yourself on a list and grab a delightful present filled with the festive spirit, warmth and spice! ]

18+ mdni, no taglist

— the nice list ♡ ⛧ the naughty list —

winter blues (1/12) ───────────────

theo nott x reader. winter begins, and so do the winter blues. your boyfriend helps you through the melancholy in the best way possible.

established relationship, oral (f receiving), body worship, nipple play, praise.

─────────────── (5/12) burning up

mattheo riddle x reader. quidditch is a sport that demands strength and stamina, resulting in physical exertion. exertion equals releasing disproportionate amounts of warmth, which, as it turns out, feels better shared.

enemies to lovers, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, choking, degrading, hair grabbing.

sticky & sweet (7/12) ──────────────

bsf!fred weasley x reader. during your trip to hogsmeade, you decide to pop into the famous honeydukes for some sweets. who would’ve guessed that your friend would find the sight of you with a lollipop so enticing?

friendship without boundaries, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, praise, candy play.

────────────(9/12) santa’s little helper

brother’s bsf!lorenzo berkshire x nott!reader. it only takes one right wrong person and one right door to realize why you should stop the habit of changing in your brother’s dorm.

brother’s bsf, voyerism, p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, choking with a belt, restraining, degrading.

closer (13/12) ─────────────────

mattheo riddle x reader. your boyfriend’s return from one of the meetings with his father is always a gamble, a shot it the dark. this time, he simply needs you close.

established relationship, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, body worship, cockwarming, praise.

─────────────── (15/12) look at you

toxic!theo nott x reader. you always tell your boyfriend everything that’s going on in your life, except this time you might’ve failed to mention just what kind of outfit you were going to wear to your performance at the yule ball.

toxic established relationship, jealousy, p in v, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, spanking, degrading.

just a taste (18/12) ───────────────

theo nott x reader. waking up in the middle of the night isn’t the most pleasant experience, but it gets significantly more bearable when you remember that your boyfriend always sleeps naked.

established relationship, somnophilia, free use, ass eating (m receiving), masturbating (m receiving), praise.

──────────── (21/12) make me, beg me

academic rival!tom riddle x reader. when tom hears that you’re planning to leave hogwarts for the christmas break, he is, for the lack of a better word, displeased.

enemies with benefits, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, choking, restraining, degrading.

no place like home (24/12) ───────────

mattheo riddle x reader. in the midst of the second wizarding war, you have to go into hiding at mattheo’s insistence – he knows his father will be looking for you. however, on christmas eve he pays you an unexpected yet very welcome visit.

established relationship, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, nipple play, praise.

────────────── (25/12) wrapped up

bsf!theo nott x reader. expecting another lonely christmas at hogwarts, theo stumbles into his dorm only to find out that his best friend never left the castle.

best friends to lovers, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, spanking, restraining, gagging, degrading/praise.

darling? (28/12) ────────────────

lorenzo berkshire x reader. the christmas break at the berkshires’ has been going smoothly, except for the fact that your boyfriend barely has time for you and your disproportionately growing needs.

established relationship, thigh riding, mirror sex, fingering, crying, praise.

──────────(31/12) a threat and a promise

theo nott x reader. they say that the way you spend the new year’s night is the way you’re going to spend the whole year. you never took this expression to heart until now.

enemies to lovers, fingering, brief oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, degrading/praise.

[fungateshortcakes]

Tummy ache

Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES

Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader

Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight

__________________________________

Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.

He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.

You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.

You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.

You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.

Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.

In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.

Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.

You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.

Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.

Then why did he avoid you and your baby?

Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.

He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.

As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.

Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.

You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.

Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.

"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.

He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.

"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.

"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.

Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.

Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.

"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.

With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.

The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.

"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.

"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.

"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.

"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.

Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.

He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.

Laura!

You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.

Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-

"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.

Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"

You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.

"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.

"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.

You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.

"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.

Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.

Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.

Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.

Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.

"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.

You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.

"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.

You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.

He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.

A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.

"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.

You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.

And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.

_______________________________

I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired

Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33

[girlfromflor]

56 DAYS (sjy) | PART TWO (FINAL)

pairing: enemie!jake x fem!reader | read the prequel and part one

summary: after your best friend jay made you share an apartment with jake – “the guy you don’t like” –, you have to decide whether you should or not give into the feelings he makes you experience, something possibly pleasant and definitely memorable.

genres: "enemies" (reader is in denial) to lovers, accidental roommates, summer love, also has a bit of angst, smut

warnings: read the first parts otherwise the story won't make much sense, swearing, cliché guys i’m sorry, this is very domestic, they act like an old married couple, jake is in love y’all, lots of tension, some crying, reader likes to be alone, they tease the fuck out of each other (not sexually), they thirst over each other a lot (very, very sexually), they bond over music and food, mentions of two piece bikini, its implied that jake is taller than reader, they overthink a bit, but mostly just lots of fluff, and smut (so MDNI) that includes: sex dream mentions, dirty talk, sub!reader, dom!jake, unprotected sex (y’all know better, this is fiction), praising, biting, slapping, pain kink?, slight degradation, begging, marking, spitting, brief fingering, hair pulling and choking

wc: 15.273 | playlist: 56 days.

a/n: can't believe this is finally out, it took me so long omfg. each part is named after a song in the playlist. anyways, hope you guys like it<3 | taglist: @manuosorioh @tunafishyfishylike

DAY 1 - Do You Like Me?

56 days. it was too much. that was no way you could both get out of this whole thing alive, everyone knew that. you will end up killing jake and then yourself. jay always said that it was going to be fine, because he knew you enough to be aware that the strongest thing between you just wasn’t mutual dislike. when he bid you two goodbye earlier this morning he just asked – really affectionately – for you to be nice to each other, with a knowing look and a teasing smile. you reminisced the moment already missing him and jake, as he drove you two back to your apartment, thought the same.

the ride back home was very quiet, jake didn’t say a word about how you both were going to be very alone together for the next few weeks and you didn’t either. you thought it was best to keep at least some of the good mood of jay’s constant yapper as much as you could, since soon enough all you two would have is each other's company – and that’s a big no-no for you. jake thought – in all his honesty – that no time alone with you was enough. he just couldn’t wait to have you all to himself and, as soon as you step inside the comforting surroundings of your home, jake doesn’t shut up. he spends all day talking your ear off about every single thing there is to talk about, anything he could use as an excuse to chat with you – he even went so far as to chase you around the house so you’d keep listening to his yapping.

it’s day one without jay and you’re already arguing. over what? you didn’t even know anymore. it kind of started because he didn't leave you alone since eight in the morning when you two got home, then he didn’t clean the mess he made in the kitchen while cooking and then he accused you of taking forever to shower – which shouldn’t really matter because he has his own fucking bathroom –, and now you’re just competing over who’s choosing the movie you're gonna watch.

“i got here first, i’ll choose it.” he says, shoving you on the other end of the couch, his big hand locking you in place by your shoulder. he’s trying really hard not to laugh to keep a serious facade, but it’s almost impossible with the way you're so shamelessly throwing a tantrum right now – he wouldn’t imagine you’d actually want to watch a movie with him.

“but you’ll choose something i won't like, on purpose,” you reply, pouting. giving up on trying to sit up and just comically laying there, your arms falling from the cushion – and jake thought you never looked cuter. you didn’t even want to fight, but it seemed like getting on your nerves was his goal for the evening.

“now, that’s simply not true. don’t you like horror movies?” he asks as he skips all netflix suggestions to search for a specific movie he heard you talk one too many times with jay, finally letting go of your arm, alternating his glance between you and the tv as he watched you switch positions and rest your back on the couch’s backrest.

“i do, but–” you pause, there was no way he knew that from you, so how did he know you're fond of horror movies anyways? you ignored your traitor thoughts – the ones that told you he paid true attention to you –, choosing to keep talking, “yes, but i still feel kinda scared sometimes.”

he cooed, like you were a cute child. “well, nothing to worry about then,” he says, and leans a bit closer, arm resting on the couch's backrest right behind you. as he winks at you, flirty ways never quite leaving him, he completes “i’m right by your side.”

you huff, sinking further into the couch, knowing him, there's no way you’d win this fight anyway. but your attitude did nothing to distract him from your flustered face and shy demeanor. “whatever, jake. just choose it already,” you mutter, arms crossed and knees to your chest making it all very entertaining for jake to watch.

the movie he chose was coincidentally your favorite horror movie. you loved it because, even though you knew it all by heart, you couldn’t help but flinch at most jumpscares. it was just so good you always got in a trance while watching it. still, it seemed like it wasn't going to happen tonight. you’d catch jake looking at you side eyed and it both intrigued and angered you. you always asked “what?” genuinely curious to know why he couldn’t just focus on the damn movie, but he brushed you off everytime, making it seem like you were just overthinking.

being completely unaware that jake have paid the movie little to no attention, you keep your eyes on the screen. jake uses this moment to appreciate your presence a little. making an effort to not look at you and distract you from your favorite horror show yet again, he becomes more aware of your presence. he then realizes you didn’t move away from him when he put his arm to rest behind you. you were just sitting there, so naturally – like it happens all the time. does this mean you’re comfortable? it has to be it, right? the thought itself catches him off guard, and he doesn’t want to move even for an inch, if that means you won’t move either. by the time the movie ends his body is a bit sore from trying so hard to stay in the same position – he thought it was kind of ridiculous, but that’s just how love is. 

not wanting it all to end just yet he asks you, “do you want to watch another one? we can make popcorn this time…” his eyes pleading, almost like it would physically sting him if you said no.

you look at him with a puzzled look, but nod in agreement regardless. it’s summer break, you don’t have class tomorrow and nothing else to worry about – also, the night sky outside is just begging for another round of spine-chilling story. making your way to the kitchen to make some popcorn for you two, you say “i’ll make popcorn, do you want to choose the next movie too?” giving him the opportunity to do it felt slightly out of character for you, but you can’t deny that his first one was a good choice – not that you’d let him know that, of course.

“no, you can choose now, pretty girl,” he winks at you as he answers, “but thanks, that’s sweet of you.” 

you roll your eyes, thinking you shouldn’t have said anything. “shut up, jake,” is your reply and you feel a bit disappointed by the fact that you couldn’t think of something else – mind unfocusing, wrapped around the way he had just called you a pretty girl. you try to shake it off and once the popcorn is ready you come back to the living room, settling down on the couch’s end by jake’s left side and pressing play in a thriller you’ve been dying to watch. 

he silently hates that you’re not by his side anymore, but he focuses on the movie. mid-way through it jake’s already on edge, his whole body tense as the movie goes on. he hates the suspense more, he thinks. nevertheless, as soon as he looks at you he almost completely forgets about it, mesmerized by how pretty you look right now – just like always. your hair is not covering your face, so he can see all of it – marvel at all of it. but what really catches his attention is the single piece of popcorn you are holding against your lips – that are slightly parted to accommodate it –, probably too lost in the movie’s story to notice you’re still holding it. your eyes are wide and almost puppy-like while looking at the screen and he wonders just how much inner strength he’s using right now to keep himself from kissing you. because, god, you look so kissable and you’re not even doing anything. it’s insufferable. he shakes his head and gets back to watching the movie, trying to get rid of the tension in his body – one that was not really from the thriller’s suspense anymore.

you sense him shifting on the other end of the couch and decide to look over, only to be greeted by a frown and a clenched jaw. he’s not looking at you – must be entranced by the film’s plot and is caught up in stress from wanting it to come to an end, you think –, but he’s looking way too good for your liking. the slight frown in his brows makes you want to soothe it somehow. maybe with a kiss, while you hold his clenched jaw until it’s not there anymore. your eyes snap back to the screen, what are you thinking? 

the rest of the movie is pure torture, for both of you. the tension that fills both your bodies starts to overflow, spilling all over the living room. it’s nearly tangible, really. it forms a dense atmosphere between you, that has nothing to do with the movie and when it is finally over none of you make comments on it – since you both lost the most important parts while exchanging sneaky looks – just whispering goodnight to each other swiftly, before going to bed. once you’re both in your designated rooms, you take a deep breath – may this be the last time you feel so goddamn tempted by him.

DAY 5 - Rock Your Body

as much as you felt like it would never happen again, it did. it’s been 4 days since your movie night and today was supposed to be the day you’d peacefully deep clean your apartment, according to your schedule. but neither you nor jake wanted to face each other, opting to not live the awkward tension all over again. you did it because you didn’t want to even entertain the idea of getting that close to jake ever, he did it because it was all too much for his poor in love heart to handle.

today was hot, to say the least. the blue sky had no clouds to shield you from the sun’s unforgivable brightness and even though you and jake are in the comfort of your home, the white walls of your apartment do nothing to suppress the impending heat that clings into your bodies. you thanked summer for its magical vibes, sure, but not really when you’re trapped at home doing house chores all morning. cleaning your apartment is usually fun since you used the time to just distract your mind from your current problems and just tidy everything up. but it’d be impossible to do it normally, since your major problem of the moment had a first name, last name and lived in the same place as you.

though it would be an annoying task, jake decided to use the day to try and bring his antics to a stop – just for one day – and, as a way to wave a white flag for you, he started by cleaning his own room, and you took the opportunity to clean yours. but as you finished and went for the next spot you both realized that you’d end up together at some point. ignoring that thought, you just kept doing your designated house chores and everything else you needed to, until you both found yourselves in the kitchen. you had already cleaned everything else, the only things missing were the dishes from breakfast and cleaning the counter – both which were completely simple. you took the dishes, while jake was supposed to clean the counter. but he couldn’t concentrate if his life depended on it.

jake freaked out the minute he saw you walk in. why would you choose to wear such revealing clothes today, he couldn’t take his eyes from you – which he tried, because he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. the way your shorts hugged your thighs was a sin itself, but your basically see-through white shirt was what made him fold, the fact that even then his imagination couldn’t possibly feel accurate in the slightest made him weak, he wanted more than just the hint of what’s underneath the fabric. he felt like he needed to do something to leave the losing side – he was feeling like he was falling deeper in a world he wouldn’t survive by himself. so he uses the roasting summer day as an excuse to take his shirt off, wondering why he didn’t do it sooner. the relief was immediate, of course, the sweat that enveloped his skin didn’t have nowhere to stick anymore, and it was a pleasant sensation. but he loved the moment especially because, as soon as he took off his shirt, he heard a cup slide from your hands and hit the sink, softly like you tried really hard to keep it from falling. the smile that adorned his lips was involuntary, but filled with a sense of confidence that extended itself to every other move he made.

you feel all the words that you could possibly say turn into mush at the sight. your mind would be completely empty, if it wasn’t already filled to the brim with thoughts of jake – shirtless, sweaty and fucking hot. he was always handsome, you knew that much, and with his constant work out routine you would imagine that his body was somewhat nicely built, but you fooled yourself into thinking that he’d be average looking. you couldn’t help but stare, completely forgetting your task at hand. why did he take his shirt off? 

you didn’t want him to notice you ogling him so you decided to say something, anything. “ew, jake. put your shirt back on,” was all you could think of, but you didn’t really want him to. the urge to rub your thighs together was getting harder to ignore, so you decided to get back to doing the dishes. jake, on the other hand, was completely amused by your lack of effort in trying to be discreet with your staring, catching you side-eyeing him every five seconds – or maybe, he thought, maybe you just couldn’t help it. the idea of having this kind of effect on you makes him feel like he was responsible for the summer day, the heat spreading on his body and gathering in his abdomen, the sensation just as if he had several butterflies moving in his stomach.

“oh yeah, ‘cause you really want me to cover up, right?” he laughs and turns on his back to resume his own task, but still talking, “pretend all you want, i know that you’d love me walking around shirtless all day.”

“oh my god, you just never know when to shut up, do you?” you say, annoyed that he was pointing it out so matter-of-factly. to remain at least a bit of your composure you decide to put your earphones on and ignore his existence. though, nothing could take you away from the fact that he was you getting all hot and bothered and he was only standing there and looking good – much more than he should, for his own fucking good.

but jake’s unable to let you grasp the peace of mind you crave so much, and decides to throw through the window all thoughts he had earlier about ‘bringing his antics to a stop’, “what are you listening to?” he asks, actually curious. to know what’s your taste in music is to know you better, and he is all for it

“justin timberlake…” you saying, trying to keep your distance. you were already half-way done with your task, doing it as quickly as you could to go to your room. you’re in much need of a shower to cool the fuck down.

“are you serious?” he chuckles, what kind of person listens to JT to clean the house? he doesn’t ask that though, instead he asks, “which song?” pointing to your earphones. “take them off, so i can judge you properly.”

“what makes you think i’m gonna let you talk shit about my music choices?” but you were already taking it off your ears and disconnecting it from your phone – nonchalantly like you weren’t just contracting him –, replaying the song so he could listen to it from the start. your body moving automatically, the desire to please him taking over.

“really? ‘rock your body’?” he shakes his head, but even you could see that he was joking. he loved the song, he had danced to it many times with a drunk jay in their parties. but, instead of dropping the act, he uses it to tease you more, “i would understand if it were ‘mirrors’ or something, but ‘rock your body’ is just a biased choice, really.”

you can’t hold your laughter to save your life. “what the fuck? what does that even mean?” and when you turn to him, you lose it. he had a serious expression on his face and his lips were pressed in a thin line, like it was the most serious topic on the earth. you really don’t know if it is the sum of everything or if he’s just really funny, but your laughter increases. you bend over the sink slightly, trying to find the balance you lost from your cackles. jake tries his best to keep a straight face but then he sees you and gives in, laughing too – it was impossible not to, you looked so chill at the moment he didn’t want to miss it. and it stays like that for what feels like many minutes, you two laughing and trying your hardest to catch your breath – but failing miserably.

once you calm down, a small smile on both your faces and your chest heaving from the lack of oxygen, you resume your tasks. almost forgetting that you were thirsting over each other just moments ago, the silence that falls between you two is comfortable. but jake didn’t want to keep it that way, so he sighs comically and says, “didn’t know it was that easy to have you laughing like that.”

“it’s not easy, you’re just a complete idiot and i can’t help but find it amusing,” you say, chuckling softly.

as he finishes cleaning the counter, which really shouldn't have taken this long, he smirks at you sentence. “oh, so i amuse you, huh?” his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. 

you had just finished the dishes as well and were drying your hands in the dishtowel, but the moment you heard his words you threw it at jake’s direction with no second thought. he catches it effortlessly and starts to walk in your direction. “you should really learn when to be quiet…” you say, and you meant it to be harsh, but your voice is wavering. his tall and broad frame was closer than you were used to and the fact that he was still shirtless wasn’t helping your situation at all. suddenly, you were hyperconscious of the extremely hot day and how it made you body warm – and possibly his too, and you wanted very much to know just how much –, the way lips parted as he looked at you, the way he towered over you and the way his eyes seemed darker now, up close – the way his chest stuttered when he finally trapped you in your position, leaning in the sink counter.

“you always say that, but i never see you make any effort to shut me up,” he says, but his voice is low, like he’s sharing a secret – a dark and seductive one. “isn’t that what you want, princess? to shut me up?”

your heart is racing, but your mind is rather calm. even though you want to deny it, you know what he was hinting at, and you want it. you crave it. “yes…” you say, voice just like a whisper, a plea.

“yeah?” he says, and closes the distance between you, clearly affected by your small, but important, confession. his warm body – warmer than yours, you notice – presses into yours ever so slightly, like he didn’t want to startle you – like you were in a dream and neither of you wanted to wake up. his right hand moved to cup your cheek, holding your face with all the worship he has ever known in life, eyes filled – overflowing – with yearning. “you can do it, baby. ”

but he wasn’t proposing, it wasn’t a suggestion. he was encouraging you to do it – egging you to go ahead and fucking kiss him, challenging you to give in. your pout comes involuntarily, the movement small but attracting his eyes to your lips – your pretty and really fucking temptable lips. knowing you can’t refuse it – knowing you don’t want to –, you tilt your head up. his reply comes immediately, coming down to brush your lips together eagerly. your voice can barely be called a whisper when you speak, “shit, jake… you know i want to.”

the way his name leaves your lips so beautifully – so appealing – makes his knees buckle. he suppresses a moan, mind going overdrive at the fact you just so openly confessed your wish – because he knew what it meant, how much it meant. then his left hand pulls you closer by your waist, as he does it he swears you can listen to the way his heart beats desperately in his chest. and you are so engrossed in the moment, so wrapped up in the suffocating tension between you that when your phone buzzes and starts ringing on the counter next to you, you both jolt. the sound sharp, cutting through whatever you two were just sharing and it takes you a moment to come to your senses.

picking your phone up, you hardly have the strength to talk, but you voice it regardless, “it’s jay…” and jake only nods, saving all words of disappointment for when he gets his turn to talk to jay, privately. you pick the video call up and wait for jay to greet you, not bothering to go to your room. jake barely moves an inch, he wants to know if you’ll try to push him away once jay sees you two. oddly enough, you don’t do it.

“hey! how’re you doing? is that jake next to you? great, i wanted to talk with you both! have you had lunch yet?” jay’s voice sounds like a rap song. he was so excited to talk to you after four whole days of not listening to your voice.

and as the conversation goes on and both you and jake catch up with a very observant jay, you come to terms that maybe – just maybe – you were eager for the next opportunity you’d get to have jake so close – maybe to finally kiss him, even if you’re interrupted.

DAY 11 - Baby Blue Movie

you didn't think this day would come, but you couldn't wait to get home. ever since the day you almost kissed jake, you decided to go out more – alone preferably. but not even then you could escape him completely. sometimes he was a better company than people you were related to. after spending an afternoon at your mother's house, your energy was completely drained. sure, you loved your family, but you can't ignore disrespect. your mother's childhood was completely different from yours and it's obvious that it would have repercussions in your adulthood, considering that she always voiced that she knew – within maternal standards – what was best for you. and it gets tiring, you lost count of how many times you tried to make her understand your point of view and now you just ignored her complaints – usually successfully, but today it unfortunately didn’t happen.

as you unlock the door, you pray that jake isn't in his playful mode. it would be extremely hard to deal with it today, but when you enter the house and take off your shoes, you can't fool yourself. he was already leaning against the wall that separated the entrance of the house from the living room, a tiny smile on his face and a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. you mentally prepare yourself not to explode at him. after all, he wasn't to blame for anything – he couldn’t possibly be aware of the horrible day you just had. you don’t even greet him as you try to make your way to your room. but he doesn’t move an inch. with lack of something else in mind, you stop in front of him, waiting for him to say whatever lame joke he thought, already thinking of a possible retort. the whole time he watches you – your pretty face contorted in a serious expression he's not usually used to – he thinks that, maybe, you’re mad at him, but he can’t think of something he could have done to make you angry like that. he doesn’t want to overthink anything, so he decides to break the silence. "did… something happen?" voice silent, soothing, like you would bleed if he sounded hostile – or even indifferent, actually. 

and, god, you wanted to yell at him. scream with all the pent up stress you endured all day, because how dare he speak to you like that? like you are fragile, like you need to be taken care of – like he needs to take care of you. the thought of being the object of his tenderness infuriates you. to be seem like you lack affection to the point you’d accept his nice words and gentle eyes. because you would never do that, no. you wouldn’t just give in because he was being kind to you for the first time since you met. but, god, did you want to. with jay’s absence you had no one else – which was kind of depressing, but you didn’t really mind – and with jake’s constant attempts in making you open up to him, it got increasingly harder to not let your guard down. because god knows how hard you’ve been trying to keep your distance, but after today’s stressful events you just wanted some sort of display of affection – something to remind you that you matter and that you are deserving of love just like anyone else is – and the fact that you received it with no second thought apparent from jake made you weak. it made you want to fight him to remain some sort of composure but also apologize for ever misjudging him – apologize for thinking he wouldn’t comfort you at all. but you didn’t do either of those. instead, you look down at your feet taking a deep, shaky breath, murmuring an almost inaudible “yeah… it did, actually.”

nothing could have prepared him for that. he genuinely thought you would brush him off and go to your room. he could have even been fine if a mean, snarky remark came out of your mouth, like it usually happens. but, you didn’t – why didn’t you? why would you answer him honestly and looking so goddamn helpless, like you were in much need of a hug. and for a second, that was precisely what he went to do. however, giving in to those impulses felt like overstepping a boundary, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, especially now that you were letting him see you vulnerable – even if it’s barely. so he tried to not look so terrified of this new territory and went with what felt most secure, wanting to reassure you somehow. “do you want to talk about it?” his voice is casual and steady, like it happens every week and he can perfectly deal with it – except it doesn’t and he can’t, the thought of you allowing him any close to you emotionally makes him dizzy, eager and feeling rather protective.

“shit…” you chuckle inevitably. he was supposed to drop the subject and yet here he is, still trying to get to you. but you try to keep yourself grounded, all your anger and stress has dissipated into pure sadness so far, if he pushes any further you’ll cry. and as you look for a way to put out what is going on in your mind, he wonders what had happened, considering he never saw you like that before. he was ready to hunt down to the gates of hell whoever dragged you to that state. “uh, no,” you sigh. “actually, it would be– yeah. well– ” you stumble over words, another frustrated sigh leaves your mouth and your hands come to face, hiding the obvious emotion written all over it. when you look back at him your eyes are already teary, your hands shake a little as you bring them down, your lips wobbly. you manage to let out a broken “i don’t know, jake…” but by the time you sniffle, about to let your tears stream down your face, jake is right on you. 

his left arm circling your middle pulling you towards him, his right hand on the back of your head tucking your face in his chest and, as he tightly hugs you for a few seconds, he keeps on saying “it’s fine, okay? it doesn’t matter, princess.” so lovingly, it does the job of distracting you from your little meltdown. you notice the way the hug feels so intimate, like it was a forbidden thing to do and you two created a bubble to hide from the world and savour the moment. and it made sense you felt that way, because jake was actually hugging you right now. and you were crying. you were crying in front of jake sim – being comforted by him – and you didn’t care at all. actually, now that you have done all the things you said you weren’t going to, what’s another one, right? that’s what’s in your mind as your arms come to his waist, not to push him away but to further drown yourself in his embrace, taking in his scent. 

and as you two stand there, the dream-like golden beams of light due to the sunset passing through the curtain’s delicate material, your arms around him so willingly and your crying coming down to a halt, jake doesn’t think he could be more content. his heart hurting in his chest knowing that you’re not okay, but also beating as fast as ever before since you’re right there. just so, so close to him, in a way he never thought you'd allow him to. and then he laughs, just a bit, but he can’t help it. and you laugh too, wholeheartedly. because you cannot deny yourself the fact that you too felt content, even though you’re crying and he’s doing that just for the sake of comforting you. but that's precisely what makes it so important – is his effort in doing so the best way he can.

DAY 18 - WA-R-R

you woke up feeling great. it has been so nice to actually have a full break from college, you have time to do all the things you like without worrying about anything. well, almost anything. it’s been a week since the crying incident happened and you two never brought it up again. jake was okay with it. he thought you didn’t want to talk about any of it, since once you felt lighter you just quietly apologized for crying on him like you did and went to your room. but you didn’t know that, and you were starting to feel like a burden. you needed to properly thank him for comforting you, but you had no idea how.

it was currently a quarter past three in the afternoon and you were boiling on your couch from the heat. jake had left for the gym right after lunch and you had nothing to do, beginning to feel unsettled from the boredom. deciding on doing something productive, you take a shower and get dressed to go to the supermarket. you were out of a few things and it would be nice to leave the house and enjoy the weather, despite the fact that you’d much rather go to the beach. once ready, you go to the kitchen to check if you weren’t forgetting anything so you could add to the list, that’s when you hear the front door opening. jake walks in just a few seconds later, eyes roaming over your figure as he immediately catches the scent of your favorite perfume – are you going somewhere? 

his black fit – sleeveless compression shirt and loose dri-fit shorts – knocked the air out of your lungs, but you didn’t have time for that. “i’m going grocery shopping, do you want something?” you ask, pretending to still check the cupboards.

“yeah, actually. but i think it’s best if i go with you…” he says casually, like he wasn’t dying to have a domestic day with you – going to the market, choosing what you’re going to do for dinner, helping you carry the grocery bags. “you know…? so you won’t buy anything wrong.”

you scoff, turning to look at him. “you’re projecting, you know i wouldn’t mistake your protein bars or whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes and propping yourself on the counter. you glance at him for a moment, taking in his appearance. faking a mix of disgust and judgment on your face, you point towards his clothes. “are you going like that?”

he checks himself, like he didn’t know what could be wrong with his outfit, and with a confused look on his face he says, “well, yes. why wouldn’t i?”

you arch your brows mockingly, shrugging. “i don’t know. you tell me, jake,” and then you chuckle from your teasing.

he rolls his eyes, feeling dumb for not realizing sooner that you were just messing with him – like always. “you’re so annoying, what the hell…” he murmurs, suppressing an amused laugh and completes, “come on, let’s go in my car.”

his car smelled like him, the woody perfume he would usually wear was everywhere – you failed to notice that the first time you rode with him. as you put the seatbelt on and he starts the car, he says “do you want to put some music on?” giving you his phone and driving off your apartment’s garage.

“sure, what do you wanna listen to?” you ask, rolling through his playlist. the ride to the store was actually short, but a little music is always nice to have. 

“whatever, you can press play on random,” he answers, eyes locked on the streets ahead. just as he finished speaking, he heard the soft beat of a korean r&b melody starting to play very lowly. he went to turn up the volume, only for his hand to bump into yours – you were going to turn the volume up a bit as well, after resting his phone on your thighs. 

a beat of awkward silence passes by and you two sneak a glance between each other. after laughing a bit embarrassed you softly say, “sorry, i was just gonna turn it up a bit.” moving your hand back to your lap.

he chuckles, without really knowing what to do he turns the volume up himself, saying “no, it’s okay. i was going to do the same.”

the song takes over the silence, its nicely tuned vocals filling the space, and you can’t help but share, “i love this song…” your voice is peaceful as you speak.

jake loves the comment, loves that you’re the one starting the small talk. “really? i thought you were more of a 2000s pop type of girl…” he says, bringing back that fact that you were listening to justin timberlake a few days ago.

you smile, “yeah, that too. but there’s nothing quite like korean r&b,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. and it felt so nice to be comfortable around him, to talk like you do with jay – like you’ve known him for years.

“i mean, you’re right. but i’m suspicious, i was born in korea, so…” he trails off, and as you two feed the conversation more and more with small details of your life, he can only thank his complete genius idea of following you everywhere – it in fact did pay off, eventually.

when you get to the supermarket, the whole shopping process is actually very quick, you buy the essentials and all the things that were in your list, jake buys a lot of barley tea bottles and you two decide that italian food was the best option for dinner today, so you buy everything you need to make pasta – you also have to decide which bottle of wine you were going to buy and that itself takes most of your time, both finding joy in fake disagreeing with each other. after getting to the checkout and paying for your purchases, you and jake walk back to the car and settle everything to ride back home. 

once at home you ask jake to put some music on the TV so you could unpack the groceries and start cooking dinner. surprised that you were offering to make dinner – knowing that usually he’s the one to make dinner and you make lunch – he asks, “why are you so willing saying that you’re gonna make our dinner today?” his voice accusing and wary, like you about to prank him. approaching you after putting on the same playlist that was playing in the car, he starts to help you unpack the grocery bags that were scattered on the counter. 

“can’t a girl feel like cooking twice in a day?” you say, purely to tease him, because after letting out a little laugh you add up almost instantly, “i just wanted to, i don’t know, thank you for being so nice to me the other day.”

“the other day? which day?” he was confused, it was pretty visible by his frown and inquiring voice.

you sigh, not wanting to extend the subject, but clarifying anyway, mumbling “the day that i cried in front of you…”

his realization comes quickly, a soft “ah!” leaving his lips. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to think that it was anything other than the bare minimum – you didn’t have to make him a meal just because you felt like you needed to pay him back. both of you knew that he had no second intentions when he comforted you. “you know, you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“i know, i know. but i really want to,” you say, voice steady like you practiced the speech all week – which you did, but that was nothing but a small detail, he didn’t have to know. “i want to show that i’m grateful somehow, so just let me.”

he just nods, pleased that your communication was improving. dinner time was really nice, you two shared a bottle of wine, talked a lot about how your music taste was actually similar and how cooking can be a fun activity once you grow comfortable with it – you were both kind of tipsy at that point.

as he helps you tidy up the kitchen, he cherished the evening you had. it was nice to know that you started to share a bond now, even if you still tried to keep your distance somehow. “thanks, for the dinner,” he says, cheeks flushed both from the alcohol and from the way you were so close to him, drying the dishes as he washed them.

you hummed, feeling sleepy from the alcohol and tired from the day. you lay your head on his shoulder – as much as you can with the height difference – and answer, “it was nice, right? we should do it again some day.”

jake can only laugh as he shakes his head – you were just too cute. “yeah… we should.”

DAY 23 - Let Go

you couldn’t be happier, today was finally the day you were going to the beach. as you got your things ready, you talked to jake about how dumb it was for you to have delayed this for so many days. jake has the idea of making some snacks and you help him do everything. throughout all the time that it takes for you and jake to make sandwiches and pack your beach bag and his backpack with everything you were going to need, you were talking nonstop. it was inevitable with the way you started to get along the past few days since your dinner together, honestly. you were also much more at ease in his presence, so you started to share a few more wholesome moments. still, he judges your choices for two piece bikinis and you say it was best if he didn’t take his shirt off – to save people’s sanity – and you fight over which snacks you were going to take in your little trip. it was all really fun, you could never try to deny that. once everything was ready, you two got ready to go.

the ride to the beach was rather calm. the music in the background was soothing and the beach you chose to go to wasn't far from your place, so jake drove you there and in less than an hour you were in the sand, sitting on your beach mat. the day was summery just like the others that have passed, only this time you could sunbathe and swim – a perfect day, you would say. jake was sitting by your side, watching you put on sunscreen – admiring you, that was more like it.

when you’re done, he points towards the sunscreen bottle on your hand and doesn't think twice before asking, “can you do my face and back?” he watches your concentrated face, but it doesn't change a bit, you stay expressionless. he tries again, “please…?”

you grimace, and move to sit face to face with him. “what? you can’t do it?” you ask, but it’s not really a criticism.

he laughs, and flicks your forehead. “of course i can, you brat. it’s just better if you do it,” he says, like it’s so obvious and you fake a look of disgust. he adds, “i can’t miss a chance to have your hands all over me, baby,” and winks.

you roll your eyes, but start to apply some sunscreen on his face, answering, “shut up and close your eyes, loverboy.” you use the moment to take in his appearance, closed eyes and parted lips from his talking. he was always so beautiful for you, you wished you could let him know in a way that didn’t felt like you were putting your heart in his hands – which was impossible, because that was the only kind of fondness you knew with him, devotion.

he does what you tell him, closing his eyes, but he keeps on talking – a smile on his face all throughout it. “you can’t push me away, princess. i know how your mind works by now,” his voice filled with enjoyment.

“yeah, yeah. i know, jake, you say that everyday,” you reply, but you're smiling too. finding joy in his words, but oblivious to how evident his feelings were. “okay, face done. now i’m gonna put it on your back, turn around for me, please.”

he turns around, his eyes glinting with unmistakable affection from your disponibility to do it for him – the way you ask him ‘please’ sticks to his mind a little more than it's considered healthy. once you’re done he gets up on his feet and holds your hand. “come on, we’re going in the sea.”

“woah there, loverboy. i know you need me to do everything with you, but at least wait until the sunscreen soaks in.” you say, and use the fact that he was still holding your hand to push him down to sit by your side once again.

he complies, his thigh brushing against your as he settles down next to you. you both take in the view. the sea is rather calm, the waves seem to crash slowly. the sun is unforgiving, but in a pleasant way, and the eventual breeze that hits your bodies is a nice way to recover from the heat. you don’t realize that you’re still holding hands, but jake is very aware of the act. so much so he fights the urge to stroke his thumb along your hand, so that you won’t grow annoyed from his display of affection. it’s not until an old lady passes by, selling handmade bracelets, that you notice just how close you guys are to each other.

the woman stops by you two and asks, very fondly, “oh, hello, young man. would you want to buy a bracelet for your girlfriend?” she’s pointing at you, and oddly enough you don’t feel like correcting her. in fact, you don’t say anything, you just smile at the lady and turn to look at jake, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“oh, yes! do you have matching ones?” he asks her, paying you no attention. his response comes immediately, and you’re caught off guard at just how natural it came to him – like you were actually boyfriend and girlfriend, like it wasn’t even a thing to consider in the first place.

they get into a conversation about her process of making the bracelets and how much they cost, eventually he buys two – only then he lets go of hand, because he needed to pay the old woman – and she thanks your attention as both of you wave her goodbye.

your head snaps in his direction. giving him a quizzed look, you don’t even have to say anything for him to speak, “look, it wasn’t going to change anything in her life if we said we weren’t together. if anything we’d just make her ashamed of her mistake…” his voice is quiet, like you’d argue with him for what he did. 

but you don’t. in fact, you just say, “i’m surprised by how easily you played along, but i’m not gonna kill you. relax,” you’re chuckling, and you add “i didn’t get to see which ones you bought…”

he stares at you, dumbfounded. “what?” he asks, wondering if he heard you wrong. were you just letting that slide? like he just didn’t pretend you were his girlfriend to a total stranger? weren’t you the one who refused to let him close? “did you enjoy being my girlfriend, is that it?” he teases, but he’s not joking. he actually wants to know this time, he needs the rest it’ll provide him.

you cough, choking a bit. what should you do? did you enjoy it? you’re not sure, but for some reason you didn’t want him to think you didn’t. not only because upsetting him felt so mean of you, but because you realized that you weren’t opposed to the idea of dating him. “god, don’t make it weird and let me see the bracelets…” you say, changing the subject. but decided to mumble in addition,  “if i didn’t say anything, it means that i didn’t mind.”

he smiles, and it outshines the sun. jake wasn’t one to be pessimistic, but he often opted for a more realistic approach when it came to you, so to see you opening up like that – letting him genuinely see you and understand you – made his body shiver with anticipation of what you’d share next. he senses your will to not deep dive into the matter so he gives into your wishes to see the bracelets. “here, give me your hand so i can put it on you…” he says, but he can barely control his excitement. he ties the bracelet in your wrist and asks for you to do the same for him, both of you admiring the colorful object that now was a reminder of a thing only you two shared. you fall into a nice, comfortable silence. the unspoken feelings surrounding you but not in a scary way, the sounds of the waves crashing doing nothing to drown your rapid heartbeats. in moments like these you question just how much you should try to keep jake away, only for you to choose not to do it at all – you were just letting it flow, it would pain you more to pretend you didn’t like what was growing between you. 

and that’s just how the day goes. you swim in the sea and share your snacks, it truly feels like a beach episode from your favorite anime. once you get back home, the tiredness from the long day – even though it was fun and uplifting – sinks in. after you and jake have straightened things up and showered, you both decide to settle on the couch.

you were hardly registering the movie that was playing on the screen. jake had his hand on your head, fingers mindlessly scratching your scalp, a loving gesture that only pushed you closer to sleep. as you started to drift off, your head found its way to jake’s shoulder, face hiding on his neck. jake gasped at the proximity, but after a few seconds he adjusted you on his body, hugging your waist. before either of you could realize, the two of you had already fallen asleep.

DAY 35 - All Mine

when jake wakes up, he’s a mess. he feels his hair sticking on his forehead due to his sweat. his legs feel shaky, his boxers sticky and his heart is hammering in his ribcage. it takes him a few moments to realize that he’s laying in his bed, having fallen asleep with you the night before while you two played cards late at night. the next thing he realizes is that you’re no longer with him. he checks his phone, it’s half past eight in the morning. he slumps back on the mattress, right hand coming down to palm the evident erection on his sleeping shorts, cock still hard despite the fact that he had clearly cummed during his sleep. he had woken up from a very messy, very erotic dream, his breath was calming down as he took in his surroundings, but his mind was still in a haze from the vivid memories from his dream – where you and him did all the things he craved to do to you. his right hand’s grip tightens around his clothed girth, his arousal growing while he feeds his imagination, thinking just how cute you’d look with your eyes tight such and your mouth hanging open as your lips let out the most beautiful sounds of his name, while he’s buried inside–.

he sits up, instantly. he couldn’t act like he lived alone, and even though he very much wanted to get off right now, he wouldn’t want to have you walk in on him – well, he wouldn’t mind if he felt like you would be okay with it, but he couldn’t know if that was the case. the past few days were wonderful, he loved every second of it. you and him were growing closer and closer, to the point you did everything together. after the day you spent on the beach, both of you decided to start hanging out more often. you did all sorts of things – you even did go back to the beach, going to a drive-in that was happening nearby – and it was starting to get hard to avoid the inevitable. jake was beginning to break, the time you’ve been spending together only further pushing him to his darkest, most lust-filled thoughts. he wondered if you felt the same, or if he was just another homie to you. if you want him the way he wants you it shouldn’t be hard to notice, right? he thinks that he should pay more attention to your body language, to see if you give him any opening to tumble over the edge of the hanging tension. but then he wonders, where are you anyway? intrigued, he leaves his room to look for you, only to find an empty house. you weren’t anywhere to be found, neither in the kitchen nor in your room. he sits on the couch, and as he was about to text you to know your whereabouts he hears the clicking of the keys on the front door. he sits back, checking his bulge briefly – that had subsided considerably – and waits for you to show up, fingers interlaced, his hands resting on his lap.

you had woken up pretty early and decided to buy strawberry cheesecake for breakfast at a bakery nearby and some coffee at your favorite coffee shop, choosing to not text jake because you thought you’d be back before he woke up – which clearly did not happen. when you see him sitting on the couch you stop, standing comically – awkwardly – at the hall that separates the living room from the kitchen.

“hi, you’re up,” you state, looking at him – eyes roaming over his figure, he seemed sus. not waiting for his answer you turn left, walking towards the kitchen counter to settle what you bought for breakfast.

jake is hot on your tail, replying, “where have you been, huh?” his tone is playful, but you can tell he’s actually curious to know.

“uh… i don’t see how it concerns you?” you answer, teasingly. your smile the most genuine it could ever be, since jake with his ‘recently woken up’ look was the cutest. then you add, “i bought coffee, and cheesecake.”

“oh god, yes! love me some sweets in the morning,” he says, settling down at the counter while eyeing your figure – the fabric of your jeans shorts seemingly sinfully pretty around your thighs, your baby blue crop top making him want to ogle your breasts. were you always this hot? “uh, thanks for bringing coffee for me too…”

“don’t mention it,” you say, at last. sitting down on his side you two start to eat, then you remember something. “hey, how did you sleep? i woke up in the middle of the night and went to my room. sorry, if i woke you.”

jake feels relief wash over his entire figure to know you weren’t there if he made any suggestive sounds during his sleep. “actually, i’m a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake me like that,” he answers and after pausing for a few seconds he finishes, “i slept ok, without crazy dreams or whatever.”

you laugh, his words seeming rushed for you and oddly explanatory, which was out of character of him – especially since he was so slow in the mornings. was he nervous? “ok, jake. if you say so…” you say, just for the sake of getting on his nerves – and maybe to get him to say something about what really happened.

“yah! what are you suggesting? i slept like a baby, ok? with baby dreams…” he states, defensively. and you laugh harder, your hand coming to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle at least some of it – which didn’t happen.

in between your gasps for air, you say, “oh, so you dreamed of unicorns and princesses then.” your teasing sentence only half well delivered, since you were still trying to recover from your fit of laughter.

jake’s mind was racing while he nervously tried to change the subject. however, in between his thoughts of his not exactly baby-like dream, he lets out the first thing that comes to his mind, “if you’d call yourself princess, then i guess you could say that, yeah…” he says, his voice sounding playful. you stall, confusion written all over your face.

“wait, does that mean you- did you dream about me?” you ask, incredulous. you brows coming together to emphasize the chaos that was your mind at his statement. he laughs, shaking his head, truly amazed at how easily he gave himself in. knowing that there was no denying what he said just now, he only nods, taking yet another slice of the cheesecake you were sharing. but you had long forgotten how to eat, in fact you don’t think you can do anything else at the moment. 

letting your curiosity speak louder you decide to try your luck. “what… did you dream about?” you ask, voice small despite its certainty. you decide to not look at him, eyeing the plate in front of you as he ate the last piece of the cheesecake. you take a sip of your coffee.

“you, duh,” he says matter-of-factly, and laughs like you weren’t dying from not knowing. “why do you want to know, anyway? does it matter that much, princess?” his tongue brushes the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to take place in his lips. the situation’s much more entertaining than he initially thought it would be. 

“oh my god, you’re so annoying,” you huff and get up, making your way to the sink to wash the dishes you just used. he stares at you, amused at the tantrum your throwing over something he thought you’d just brush off, probably just making a comment about how in love he’s in with you – jokingly, of course.

“okay, okay. i’ll tell you, alright?” he says, bringing his hands up as if surrendering to you. you stop what you’re doing just to turn your head to him slightly. you eye him, an unreadable expression in your face and he chuckles a bit – he really does like you. at last, he says “i dreamed i got hurt in a zombie apocalypse and you left me behind…” his voice is obviously playful, but you fail to realize he was being ironic.

so you only sigh, your lips forming an involuntary pout as you hummed in acknowledgement, turning back to dry your hands after you finished your task. his answer breaks your expectations, leaving you confused as to why you thought he’d say something else – why you wanted him to say something else. maybe it was the way he was staring at you since you arrived, or the way he seemed so nervous talking about his dream, you thought maybe it meant he saw you in a way that wasn’t just ‘his roommate’. but, maybe it was all in your head anyways.

he comes behind, not touching you whatsoever, his hands finding their place at the counter in front of you the same time you finish your task – and he realizes he’s feeling oddly familiar with the situation, like a deja vu. he whispers then, voice seductive and full of intentions, “did you want me to say that i had a erotic dream?” his question catches you off guard, you use your now free hands to support yourself at the edge of the sink. you head falls to your shoulder, eyes closing as a sigh passes your lips. fuck, why is he dirty talking to you all of sudden? why do you like it? you decide that all your doubts and worries are for the future you to deal with, right now you just want to know how far this can go. still, you can help the nervousness that gets a hold of your demeanor. shaking your head, you start, “n-no, that’s not it, why would you–”

but jake was not having it. he cuts you off mid-sentence, face coming closer to your ear, lips brushing over it ever so slightly while he whispers lowly – as if you were in a room filled with people and he only wanted you to hear –, “are you really going to lie to me like that, baby?” and just like that you’re speechless, but that doesn’t matter one bit, because jake keeps on talking, “i dreamed you were underneath me doing all sort of cute noises while i fucked you on my bed. is that what you expected me to say? or was that pout on your pretty lips for another reason, princess?”

“w-what…?” you utter, confused. he’s getting to you too damn fast for your liking – your panties growing damp at the thought of him having a wet dream about you. you speak your mind, “what the fuck, jake? how can you say things like that…”

“like what? so directly? you know i’m not one to play games, princess,” he says and uses the little switch of topic to spin you around. his hands find your waist to urge you to face him and you comply, but you don’t look into his eyes yet, embarrassment having a tight grip around you. so his right hand comes to your face and you barely feel his fingers as he tilts your chin up softly, bringing you to face him so he can lock eyes with you, his hand falling to your waist a second after. his gaze is intense, filled with emotion – one you’re yet to allow yourself to admit aloud you reciprocate. the silence starts to grow bothersome so you decide to voice your thoughts once again, not really expecting this moment to turn into a heart to heart conversation – but honestly, you love that jake provides this for you.

“i know. but, you’re making me nervous,” you confide in a mumble, fidgeting fingers on your back but you don’t break eye contact – your puppy eyes fucking jake’s mind up. he knows what you mean, you’ve talked about this before. you’re not one to let people in, so to have him so casually stripping you out of your comfort zone can be really stressing – it doesn’t mean you don’t want him to, though.

jake cuckles, he does think you’re adorable from time to time – everyday – and he’s determined to make you comfortable with what you want – well, that being him – so he makes a point of saying, “that’s cute, princess. you’re only nervous because you keep refraining yourself from doing what you want…” he says, almost melodically. “and i know very well that you want me.”

there’s a knowing glint in his eyes and you know he knows, that’s what your relationship was always about – he’s been obvious about his desires, you were the one who poorly attempted to deny it. so you sigh defeated, as you watch his pretty eyes and easy smile. you touch his arms, hands traveling up to his cheeks where you leave a soft squeeze with your palms, squishing them together. you both let out a giggle, then your fingers intertwin on his nape, your body closing the distance between you and him. 

jake is not surprised that you took the initiative, but he couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. his heart is beating unforgivingly in his chest, it aches the best kind of pain and he lets out a sound of relief, pleasure and pure fulfillment. his hands grips your waist harder trying to ground himself, but nothing is enough – he is losing all self control and he couldn’t care less. because your hands were on his neck, nails scratching lovingly the back of his head, your chest pressed on his and your lips passionately kissing him – having you on his hands for him to touch and hold was messing with his head. the kiss that takes place is outstanding, it makes both you and him breathless way too quickly. you pull away first, your teeth prodding your bottom lip for a moment before jake is on you again.

this kiss is much more devastating than the first one, when your tongues meet you can hardly contain the whine that tries to leave your lips, but maybe it’s the way jake shoves you against the counter behind you that knocks the air out of your lungs. none of you know how long you stay making out, your fingers interlace on jake’s locks and he anticipates the moment you will pull it, but you don’t. he grows impatient, hands sliding from your waist to your hips, where he squeezes hard, then he pushes himself from you, interrupting the kiss in the middle. you’re panting, chest heaving and lips red and swollen from the kissing, the sight making heat spread all over his body and his arousal only increases, the bulge on his pants begging to be simulated and he wonders how affected you are by all of this. despite the hot feeling of your hasty breath, nothing really gives away your inner state. and you try to keep it that way, but your mind is foggy and you can barely form coherent thoughts aside from the burning lust, that’s all you can discern. you thought you could be stronger when it came to your sexual desires, but jake fucks up all your attempts in keeping a composed attitude. because you wanted nothing more than to let go and be led, to allow him to do whatever he wanted to. that’s how much you trusted him, how much you craved him.

you’re so lost in your submissive reverie that you fail to realize that jake actually said something. it isn’t until his hands cups your cheeks that your attention turns to him.

“hm…?” you hum and it’s supposed to be a question, but you can really say something else. he understands, though, slowly catching on to what your behaviour meant. 

testing the waters, he asks “do you want to go upstairs, baby?” softly, trying not to sound like you had to. you nod, eagerly so, making him smile, tilting his head to the side. “you’re much too quiet, princess,” he says, his smile fading to a smirk as continued, “go on, use your words.”

the way he says it is borderline condescending. the patronizing superiority twists your insides and your heart rate speeds up, a familiar feeling making its way to your stomach like butterflies. you curse every cell in your body for being so responsive. you focus on the fact that it’s a simple question, one he already knows the answer to. “yes…” you voice out, not without stuttering and jake is amazed. 

he pushes further, wanting to strip every layer of this newfound trait of yours. “huh? yes what, princess?” and it’s a trap, because he’s not expecting anything specific, you may or may not know what to answer, it doesn’t matter because jake is doing it with the sole purpose of teasing you.

but you don’t know that, and even if everything in you is telling you to address him with a respectful honorific, you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning that so easily, so you do what’s best, you play innocent. “yes, i wanna go upstairs,” your voice sounding much more controlled and with barely any sides of your emerging submissiveness.

jake laughs at your answer, eyes scanning you with unmistaken amusement. he shakes his head, grabbing your hand as he speaks, “you’re impossible.”

he uses your intertwined fingers to pull you with him, all the way until you’re passing through his bedroom door. once inside, he sits on the end of his bed, hands coming to your hips as he looks up at you. that’s when everything sinks in. nothing could’ve prepared you for the devastating reality that you’re a moment away from letting jake undress you – letting him fuck you. his alluring presence drowns your senses, you want nothing else than to please him. 

he sees it in your eyes, so he feels obligated to act on it. “come sit, princess,” he says and pulls you to his lap. you fall right after, thighs finding their place on his sides as your hands touch his chest. “you’re so pretty,” his hands are caressing your waist under the fabric of your shirt. “so, so pretty,” he adds, placing kisses on your cheeks, and then your neck. “makes me want to ruin you all the time,” he pulls you even closer, the motion making your hips collide with his. his dick impossibly hard underneath you, you fists his shirt at the feeling. he started to leave hickeys on your skin, his path well marked as he love bites his way to the valley of your breasts. you can feel the smirk on his lips as he trails kisses on your skin, but you are engrossed in the intoxicating feeling of his hands traveling up your body. when you realize, he’s already taking your top off, eyes shamelessly falling to your naked torso. “you always leave the house without a bra on?” he asks, not really accusing you of anything, his hands instantly coming to grope them, thumbs tenderly flicking your nipples and your response is almost embarrassingly quick. you’re taken by surprise, a soft moan slips past your lips and your hips grind on him. he appreciates the sound, his dick twitching in his sleeping shorts as he squeezes your boobs harder. 

you answer him, voice coming weaker than you expected as you speak, “no… not really.” you have your hands sliding under his shirt, pulling the fabric with you as you feel the warm skin of his chest on your palms, you want to see him too. “can you… take your shirt off too?”

“look at you, being so well mannered…” he says and you roll your eyes, his praise makes your panties grow wetter by the minute. he keeps talking though, making no move to remove his shirt just yet. “although, i think that there’s one word missing, princess…”

you understand him immediately, the words coming out easily, “please…? can you take your shirt off, please?” you rephrase, and jake’s mind goes over drive. he already wants you begging for him.

is almost funny, to know that you two are living the moment he has been anticipating ever since he was first trapped with you in that bathroom in a random college party. he’s lightheaded from the unceasing sensations he experiences with you and his smile is the perfect display of it, breathtaking and contagious. he lifts his arms for you to finish taking the shirt off his torso, you drop it on the floor. his hands settle back on you, falling on your thighs with a smack on which one, as he gets back to trailing kisses down your neck, until his tongue envelops your nipple. he’s still smiling when you moan from the sudden stimulation, but he moans with you after you grind down on him at a specific hard bite he delivers. “you’re into pain or something?” he asks you, moving to your other boob, teeth grazing the skin before he bites it, softer than he wanted, just to test his theory.

you right hand tangles in his hair, fingers gripping the locks but not really pulling at it – which he really wants you to –, your left hand splayed on his chest, nails threatening to dig on his skin. he laughs in disbelief, biting harder – not enough to leave a mark, yet –  and your hips move involuntarily on his, humping his throbbing dick, desperate for a real form of stimulation between your legs. “oh god, you are into it.” he states, and delivers another slap on your thigh.

you bite your lip, and say “you do realize how sadistic this makes you look, right?” in defiance, but your affected tone makes no effect whatsoever. 

his answer is instant, “and you do realize how much of a masochist i think you are now, right?” his mocking tone getting to your and further wetting your panties, that must be completely destroyed by now. he continues his assault in your chest, that already has some red and purple marks blooming here and there.

“i-i’m not…” you start, both hips and voice stuttering from his movements, the fabric of your jeans starting to make you uncomfortable as you rub yourself harder on his erection, jake’s hands groping your skin from the stimulation, the rhythm of your movements torturously slow for his liking. “i’m not a masochist,” you manage to say, and jake laughs from your little act. 

“no, just a painslut...” he says, and your muffled whine is enough of an answer for him. “but don’t worry, baby. you make such a pretty slut for me.”

“fuck…” is all you can mumble, pussy clenching around nothing as you keep grinding on his bulge, dry humping him for all your worth. but jake had enough of that, he wants more – he needs more. so he grabs one of your thighs’ underside with one hand, the other going to your waist as he moves you on the bed. in a second you're laying on your back on the mattress, but you don’t have time to be surprised. jake touches your knee in an attempt to get you to open your legs and you comply, slowly moving them apart to accommodate his hips.

his hands travel to undo the button of your shorts, fingers pulling the zipper down all the way but he doesn’t slide the fabric off your legs. instead, he stuffs his hand inside of it, fingers gliding over your dripping wet slit. “shit, you’re fucking soaked, princess…” he almost growls, forehead resting on your shoulder. “want to fuck you till we pass out,” it’s just a harmless confession, one he doesn’t truly mean, but you don’t care.

“so do it,” you sound desperate, his index and middle finger teasing your entrance while his thumb presses on your clit. he wasn’t moving, and it was driving you insane. you thrust your hips forward, trying to get him to do something, but he doesn’t.

he chuckles, his smirk hidden from your eyes, but you could feel it when he pressed his lips to your ear, leaving an openmouthed kiss in it. “so soon? where’s the fun in that?” he says rhetorically, he has been dying to bury himself inside you, but he still wants to play with you some more. “need to prep you first, baby.”

your moan is music to his ears when he inserts his fingers in you with a quick motion, pleasure running through your veins. but it wasn’t enough. you didn’t want that, you wanted his dick inside you. “f-fuck, jake… jake, please,” is the first glimpse of a plea, and jake is relishing on it. he quickens his movements, fingers working on your walls like magic. he brings his thumb back to your clit, drawing little imaginary circles in it and your head falls back, back arching as you push your hips forward again. “jake, j-jake… please, fuck me. wanna cum on your cock.”

although he really wanted to, he couldn’t resist your plea. he doesn’t need to be told twice, taking his fingers out slowly and helping you out of your shorts and underwear. he takes his shorts off along his boxers right after, his dick slapping his stomach as he does so.

once he’s between your thighs there isn’t much to be said, he’s already guiding his dick to your entrance when your legs wrap around his waist. you both moan at the intrusion, the stretch making your mind go blank as your head falls to the side, right hand finding support on his back as your left hands tangled on his locks. you’re both panting and you barely started, his thrusts are sharp, he reaches so deep in you. your closed eyes and open mouth are better to watch than jake could ever imagine, he wishes he could have this everyday. “oh my god, fuck–” he swears, hand gripping you jaw to give you a kiss. it’s messy, your tongues meet more outside than inside your mouths. when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting you two. his weight is supported on his forearms as he moves to mark your neck mumbling, “y-you feel so good princess, so goddamn good.”

the room smells like sex, your hands try desperately to somehow steady yourself in that moment that didn't seem like reality at all. jake pressed his hips into yours harder and harder with each kiss he left on your neck, his mouth brought you little by little closer to heaven and you let a specific loud whine escape your lips. you could feel his smile as he raised his head so he could kiss your mouth with unquestionable desire once again. you use your legs to pull him closer and his eyes roll back under his eyelids. you arch your back slightly, your chest pressing against his and your fingers – finally – pulling on his strands. jake brokes the kiss to moan and looks at you in that surrendered way he always does. he just couldn't help himself, he needed to ruin you just a little bit more.

“so beautiful, my princess.” his possessive tone making you clench around him, his hand moves from your side to your neck, where he gives it a light squeeze, and then he grabs your cheeks with one hand. not too hard, but enough to make you lift your face. “open your mouth for me, love.” and you comply. your mouth parted slightly and your eyes glued to his, but he’s too lost watching you run the tip of your tongue between your lips to notice. he uses his thumb to open your mouth even wider, naturally salivating at the thought of what he would do next.

when his spit meets your tongue and you swallow without protest, he is gone. the moan he fails to contain comes out muffled as he presses his face back into your neck. the hand that was previously on your cheek goes down to your thigh where he delivers a harsh squeeze. “fuck…” he whispers, inevitably moving his hips to fuck you harder, faster. he was too lost in the feeling, and so were you. 

the intoxication sensation of your orgasm comes quickly, and it’s devastating. jake takes notice of the way your nails run down his back, the other pulling on his hair and your legs impossibly tight around his waist. “would look at that– ah–, you’re going to cum, baby?” he asks, voice low and wavering, “are you?”

you hum, your moans impossible to suppress. you drool on the fabric of the mattress – you were so, so close. jake has other plans, though. “oh, c-come on now, princess… we’ve– ah– talked about it a-already,” he says, hand coming to your neck, adding some pressure – just enough for your eyes to roll back on your closed eyelids. he loves to watch it, his own release coming fast and unforgiving. “use your words.”

“i– fuck– can i cum, jake? p-please…” you start, eyes opening to lock with his as best as you can. “please! jake, ah– i can’t hold it a-anymore…” you cry out, head lolling back once more. “f-feels so good, so good.”

jake can’t hold it back any longer too, hips unrelenting at your begging. “go ahead, baby. cum for me.” he whispers, and it feels like you fall over the edge immediately. the unceasing clenching of your walls only pushing him to his orgasm too, thick ropes painting your inner thigh as he pulls out. the wave of pleasure that overtakes you both is devastatingly good, you can barely discern what's happening as whispered “thank you’s” fall from your lips. when you both fall back to reality you’re sweaty and breathless. he drops his weight on you, arms caging your body as his head finds the comfort of your chest. you giggle and hug his shoulders, eyes too heavy from tiredness to keep them open. you fall asleep before the both of you can say anything. jake senses your calming breath, choosing to clean himself and you up before giving into the temptation of sleep as well. he dresses you on his shirt that was on the floor after putting on his boxers, hugging you from behind whispering sweet nothings to you, lulling himself to sleep.

DAY 37 - Fool For You

you’ve never been one to give in to awkwardness. you pride yourself on being quite a light presence, always funny or trying to make everyone feel comfortable. but it wasn’t until you had sex with jake that it changed. because, sadly, now you’re just always nervous around him. it had been two days since he claimed you for himself – two days and you still haven’t really faced him. what could you do, really? pretend it never happened? act like the big deal it was and possibly ruin everything? acknowledge what happened but act like it's not going to destroy every single wall you've built around yourself?

you felt hopeless and you missed him – so much. because after what you two shared, there was no room for doubt, no room for hiding the undeniable truth. you were deeply, madly and uncontrollably in love with jake. so much so it hurted you. so much so you could tell everyone and you would never feel ashamed of it. but, what about him? how could you ask him if you didn’t even know how to allow yourself to be vulnerable like that? to let him in like he was always there –  although it felt like he had always been part of you, you also couldn’t help but overthink it. you felt like he understood you even if no words were spoken, but would it really be enough for him to know that you loved him? would you be enough for him? did he feel the same? god, did he even like you at all? and as you torture yourself – feeling like you could actually feel a physical discomfort from all the thinking and loving and wanting you had trapped inside you –, jake was losing his mind.

he was in complete despair, like he’ll never have you. all of the time it took for him to get to know you, to get close to you – it felt meaningless –, and now you were slipping right through his fingers all over again. it wasn’t fair. he knew you felt something for him. and it was driving him insane, because if you felt even just a little bit of what he feels, then it was enough for forever. even if you feel just five percent of what he feels for you, you would make it until the end of the world. but it didn't matter, because you hadn’t talked to him yet. he was feeling like he was left to die of starvation, your absence making him hallucinate. making him question just how much he wouldn’t do for you – only so he could finally have you. because he was feeling like he could do it all, but he needed you to come to him. to allow him to truly see you, to truly feel you. so he decided to wait. wait for you to come to terms with the reality you seemed so against living and then he’d do everything – anything to keep you by his side.

even if you weren’t sure about how things would turn out, you know it was you who had to make the first move and when you decide to get your shit together, you walk straight to his room. looking calm on the exterior, but completely wrecked on the inside, yet it’s kinda funny for you. you have nothing to fear anyway, expect for, well, a rejection – but it wasn't really going to stop you. when you get to his door you take a few deep breaths, gathering the courage that was just a few seconds ago all over you but seemed to suddenly vanish. you grow eager, as if it was all coming to realization. it feels so fucking right you could cry, you decide to knock before it all becomes too much. doing it softly, you wait for him to answer, cleaning your sweaty palms on the sides of your sleeping shorts.

jake’s listening to some random “songs for studying” playlist on youtube while scrolling through his media when he hears the soft knock on his door. he freezes, what was happening? he jumps out of bed, looking around checking if anything needed replacing. when he sees everything’s fine he walks to the door, but remembers he had changed into his sleeping clothes, so he goes back to check himself in the mirror, only for him to run a hand through his hair and get right back to the door. once there he doesn’t think twice, swinging the door open. “hi!”

you get startled by the sudden movement. jake looks like he has the energy to run a marathon and is hardly holding himself from doing so. it’s cute. you look at his puppy-like eyes, his lips slightly parted and his hair falling in his brows. you almost say right then and there, but you hold it – waiting for a more appropriate moment. instead, you say “uh, hi.” and then you giggle, looking down to your feet and then back at him. “what are you doing right now?”

he lets out a giggle himself, a bit more at ease now that he knows you’re not there bringing bad news. then he answers, “honestly? nothing,” and he laughs at his own sentence.

“good, can i come in then?” you ask, but before he could even answer you’re already explaining yourself, “it’s just– uh, i want to talk to you…”

he smiles nervously, stepping aside so you can come in. after you walk in, he guides you to his bed by your shoulder and then he lays on his side, propped on his left arm. “tell me all about it, baby.”

the nickname makes goosebumps raise all over your body, but maybe it was the fact that you had acknowledged you want this whole thing so much – maybe it was burning in you all along just waiting for an excuse to be freed. “i… so, i wanted to–” you stutter, growing a bit nervous.

“hey,” he grabs your hands that were in your lap. “relax! you’re kinda freaking me out, you know?” he says, trying to lighten the mood. he could see what you wanted to say was serious but he also didn’t want you to get anxious over it. “i feel like you’re gonna say you're a murderer or something.”

you can only laugh, because he’s such a fucking idiot and you love him so bad it’s kind of pathetic. “god, that’s such an idiotic thing to say…” you pause, looking at him playing with your bracelet mindlessly. then you realized there was no way he went for all the trouble to fuck you if he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was so dumb of you to assume that in the first place. and it felt so right in that moment – almost dream-like –, you didn’t want to waste it. the words left your mouth by impulse, but they all fell so naturally out of it too, it barely felt like it was the first time you were saying them, “i love you, jake.”

jake feels his whole world stop. what did you just say? he couldn’t voice it out better, muttering, “what?”

“yep…” you say comically popping the ‘p’, head nodding dramatically, lips pressed in a thin line and brows furrowed in fake apprehension. because, deep down, you’re sure it was going to work out just fine. “guess that’s worse than a murder, huh?”

jake’s going crazy, he wasn’t expecting you to ever say it like that, so easily. “do–” he gasped, choking a bit. he was a mess by this point, his hands pulling you closer by your wrists until your face was close enough, to the point he could feel your warm breath on his nose. his voice cracking with obvious emotion, but he really couldn’t care less, “do you really?”

and your eyes water, voice faltering just as much, “of course i do, jake… ” you press your forehead to his, eyes closing but you can feel his hands shaking where they hold you and you wanted nothing but to make him feel all of the love he made you feel.

“oh my god,” he uttered, voice completely drowned in emotion as his breath hitches and he sobs, but that doesn't stop him from keep talking, “oh my god, baby, i love you too,” he states, like it wasn’t obvious by the way the tears left his eyes and stained your shirt. he’s a blabbering mess, but you love it. “i love you so much.”

and there, in between tears, smiles and sweet words, jake’s certain that he’d do everything all over again, just to have you. and you know you found the one.

DAY 38 - Apocalypse

you wake up in your bed with a startle, out of breath and with tears blurring your vision, threatening to fall from your eyes. your heart was filled with so much love you could never possibly keep to yourself only, so look to the side to reach jake. only, he isn’t there. you sit up, confusion knocks on your poor sleepy brain and you stumble out of bed. you remember very vividly you had fallen asleep with jake the night before, after you so happily declared your love for each other. as you reach for your doorknob you pause, what if it was a dream? because you remember you were in jake's room last night, not yours. were you so sleep drunk you couldn’t tell if it all happened or not? you rush to open the door and walk towards jake’s room, but he wasn’t there either. so you decide to go to the kitchen, not yet ready to give up, even if your heart was squeezing like you had lost the only love you ever had known.

as you reach the kitchen you hear some noises and your body fills with excitement as you eye jake’s broad figure – but, wait. is that a Seattle Mariners shirt?

“oh my god, jake. why are you wearing jay’s shirt?” your voice competing with your laughter, trying to imagine what would be jay’s reaction if he saw his favorite shirt in jake’s body – his very nice, very doable body. “i’ll tell jay.”

“don’t you dare, pretty,” he says, like it’s a threat – that has no effect, whatsoever – as he drops whatever he was doing to come hug you. “it isn’t jay’s, he gave me this one on my birthday last year,” he gave your forehead a kiss, then the top of your head and kept going, “how did you sleep? i put you in your room ‘cause mine’s closer to the kitchen and i wanted to make breakfast. did i wake you?” but you almost don’t hear it, his voice being drowned since he talked while his lips were pressed to the top of your head. 

“you didn’t wake me, love,” and the way you say it makes jake’s heart melt. “but i woke up crying and for some weird reason i thought yesterday was a dream…” you add, hugging him back and taking in his scent.

“i left for 15 minutes and you were already crying from missing me? that’s cute, princess,” he laughs after speaking, moving you to sit at the counter. “well, it’s good it wasn’t a dream then, huh?”

you give an disgusted look to his little joke, but you’re smiling when you brush your lips to his, “i don’t know… i’m starting to regret it.”

“you’re so mean,” he replies, but he’s also smiling. he gives you a brief kiss on the lips, then one on your cheek. he looks at you for a bit and says, “i think i should make us breakfast…”

you both laugh, knowing what he’s hinting at. you get off the counter and help him, being so filled with contentment and love as you watch him make a mess in the kitchen just like always,

“i love you.”

a/n: it was supposed to be all a dream in the end, but i couldn't do it. let me know what you think<33

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 2

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

warnings: we meet jk's friends and tae makes his first appearance (we'll be seeing a lot more of him in future), oc is sick with a cold, jk is a simp and drops everything to make her feel better, lots of fluff, nothing explicit in this one, we find out some more of oc's rules, SATC mentioned, some marvel talk, talk of jk having a nice ass, mostly just lots of soft feels in this one <3

word count: 2.7k

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

author's note: i'm so happy to see the amount of love part 1 got !!! part 2 is a bit shorter, but i think it's important to see their dynamic outside of the whole fwb thing. i'm aiming for the upcoming parts to be longer, i promise. i hope you enjoy all the feels in this one, and don't be shy to send me your feedback 🫶🏻

find tmhtl masterlist here

Jungkook sits at a table in a rather fancy restaurant, half-listening to his friends as they joke about something over dinner. They've been meaning to get together for a while but they've all been so busy with work and their personal lives that it just never worked out until tonight. Well, it worked out tonight because Taehyung practically forced everyone to come.

"Yo, earth to Jungkook."

He looks over at Jimin with raised eyebrows, realizing he was caught staring at his phone in his lap. He knows he should be paying attention to the conversation happening around him, and he knows that it's rude to be on his phone while he's in company, but he hasn't heard from you all day and usually you would've exchanged words (or funny memes) by now.

It's not that he MUST speak to you all day, every day to survive, but it just happens. If he sees a funny video of a cat on TikTok, he sends it to you. If you forgot how to do something on Excel, you text him and he replies within two minutes to explain how to do it. Sometimes he even goes through the trouble of doing it himself, screen recording it and sending it to you to give you a step-by-step guide. That's just how it goes with the two of you.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just asking if there's a special someone in your life," Jimin says with a little grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

"Actually, what he asked was if you're still on track to die alone," Namjoon quips, Jimin waving him off with a little "eh, same thing".

Jungkook rolls his eyes, flatly denying any romantic relations. It's not like he's lying. He just can't say that he might have started developing feelings for the woman he's casually sleeping with, so he just settles on, "Naah, I'm too busy with work." It's easier.

They know their friend is a terrible liar, but they also know that he would tell them if he really wanted to, so they don't pry. They've heard your name once or twice in passing, a little comment here and there like 'y/n likes that movie' or 'y/n uses this perfume'. As far as they know, you're his work friend. That's it. Even Taehyung doesn't know much about you, and he works at the same university as an English Literature lecturer, which brings us to rule #2.

Rule #2: It stays between us. It's just less complicated if less people know, and Jungkook knows that if his friends knew about it, they'd be pestering him about you all night and he doesn't need that right now, especially when his eyes drift back down to his phone and there's still no text from you.

You're in bed, surrounded by snotty tissues and a sleeping Miso, who really couldn't care less that you just underwent a violent coughing fit. You're about to doze off, when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You check the notification, and when you see who it's from, you swear you feel your heart rate rise, but maybe it's just from all the coughing.

prof jeon |7:50pm]: hey, you. prof jeon 17:50pm]: haven't heard from you all day... prof jeon [7:51pm]: are you mad at me bc i said sex in the city was boring??? 👀😭😭

You [7:51pm]: first of all, it's sex AND the city 💀 You [7:52pm]: and it's not boring, you're just a nerd who can't watch anything other than marvel

He laughs, knowing he should've expected that response. Your next message comes through shortly after.

You [7:53pm]: sorry for the radio silence You [7:53pm]: i have a nasty cold 😵‍💫 You [7:53pm]: feel like i was hit by a bus You [7:53pm]: took some cough drops and slept for most of the day

He really shouldn't feel the need to immediately rush to your aid, but he does.

prof jeon [7:53pm]: want me to come over?

You [7:54pm]: you don't have to do that, kook You [7:54pm]: i don't wanna get my germs all over you 😕

prof jeon [7:54pm]: don't be silly   prof jeon [7:54pm]: i’ve had your bodily fluids on me before, who cares about a little snot 😂😂😂   prof jeon [7:55pm]: i can be there in a little bit 

You [7:56pm]: you're gross 🙄 You [7:56pm]: and really nice

prof jeon [7:56pm]: see you in a bit x

He excuses himself from dinner with the excuse of a family emergency and promises his friends to hang out again soon. He grabs his coat and heads out to his car, making a stop at your favourite Thai restaurant for some pho before driving over to your place.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and dragged yourself back to bed as soon as he texted you to let you know he's on his way up. You hear the door open and in walks Jungkook, looking very handsome you might add.

"You're dressed awfully fancy to take care of my cold," you tease with a little smile, your eyes drifting down to the plastic bag in his hand, a bag you know all too well due to countless trips to that specific Thai restaurant. "And you brought food?"

He smiles as he removes his coat and walks over to the side of your bed, placing the pho on your nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed, clearly not bothered by the array of tissues scattered around the duvet. Miso sees him and gets up from her spot on the bed, sauntering off to the living room, almost as if she knows her mom is about to get folded like a pretzel again. But Jungkook's not here for that tonight.

"I was actually out at dinner with some friends when I texted you. And I thought you might've been too lazy to get up and actually eat dinner, so I brought soup."

The thought of him dropping his plans with his friends just to come over and take care of you fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it's just your high temperature. Maybe it's the fact that he's just so kind to you. Whatever the reason may be, you're too sick and weak to fight the soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't thank me. I just didn't want you to drown in your own mucus."

Your laugh makes his heart feel funny, even if it barely managed to escape your sore throat.

He opens the lid of the steaming hot pho and holds a spoonful to your lips. If you were your usual healthy self, you would've told him that you're fully capable of feeding yourself, but you're sick and vulnerable and he has that soft look in his eyes, so you let him feed you the soup. It's warm and a little spicy, and it instantly makes you feel better as it slides down your throat. It's just that good. That, and the fact that he bought it for you and drove all this way to feed it to you.

He makes sure you take any necessary medication and even helps you flip over to lay on your stomach so that he can rub some VapoRub on your back, his hands giving you the comfort you didn't know you so desperately needed.

You aren't used to being taken care of by such a gentle man. He blows on your soup for you so that you don't burn your tongue. He wets a cloth with cold water and lays it on your forehead to bring down your temperature. He touches you like you're some delicate porcelain that could break at any moment. When he lays down with you and runs his fingers through your hair, you don't fight it. When he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you don't protest like you normally would because rule #3 is no kissing outside of sex but you don't even care right now. You let him take care of you when you normally wouldn't. You allow yourself to be taken care of because it feels too good to overthink.

Jungkook feels a bit selfish for relishing in your current state because it allows him to care for you in your time of need. He would do it for any of his friends because that's the type of person he is, but this is different. This is you, and he would drive for hours and hours to get to you if you ever needed him. He would put everything on hold to be there for you. Hell, he would run into a burning building if you were in there. Because it's you.

He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you, taking in your fevery flushed cheeks, your heavy-lidded eyes, your stuffy nose, and he thinks that no other woman will ever be as beautiful to him as you. He's not Taehyung. He doesn't teach literature and he doesn't have the best way with words, but he could spend hours writing poetry about the sound of your laugh or how animated you get when you're really passionate about something. He could sit and watch paint dry all day if you sat by his side and did it with him.

Jungkook takes the tv remote from the nightstand to turn on Sex and The City, clicking on a random episode from season 6 and getting comfortable next to you.

"What happened to Sex and The City being boring, hm?" you chuckle, giving him a teasingly pointed look.

"What, you want me to turn it off?"

"No, I just thought you didn't like it."

"But you like it."

You turn your attention back to the tv as a smile threatens to break out on your face, your head turned so that he doesn't see how much that simple response affected you.

He barely remembers the characters' names or much of the plot, but you enjoy the show, so he watches it with you, making comments here and there and even asking questions just so he can listen to your voice as you explain why Carrie Bradshaw does what she does. He mentally pats himself on the back for getting through a good handful of episodes before inevitably getting bored.

When you get up to go to the bathroom, he just can't help himself and turns on one of the Avengers movies, offering you a sheepish grin when you come back and see what's on your tv.

You roll your eyes and get back in bed, watching Iron Man perform a monologue for the millionth time. "Captain America's better."

He gives you a look like you just killed his dog or something, and you already know what's coming.

"Are you insane?! Iron Man is so obviously the best Avenger, y/n."

"He doesn't look like Captain America, though."

"He doesn't have to," he scoffs, looking back at the tv. "He's got that whole rich CEO thing going for him. Plus, he's like, a genius."

"Nerds defending nerds, I guess," you tease with a faint smile.

He grins, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Are you saying I'm like Iron Man? Because if you are, that's a huge compliment."

"Iron Man's a bit more of a bad boy," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes at him as you try to think of who he resembles in the Avengers. "You're more...boy next door, kinda like Spider Man."

"Wha- excuse me, I can be a bad boy too if I want," he quips, trying to sound offended, but when you mention Spider Man it kinda makes up for it. "I guess I'll take Spider Man. I do have a nice ass."

You laugh, giving him a puzzled look. "Who said anything about Spider Man's ass?"

"He's like, known for having a great ass. Have you seen him in his suit?"

"So, that's it? That's why you'd make a good superhero? Because you have a nice ass?"

"Well...not just my ass. I'd make a great superhero because...y'know...great power, great responsibility and all that other stuff."

You scoff, shrugging like you can't argue with that.

He's quiet for a while, a full-blown fight scene playing out on the tv, his mind starting to wander a bit.

"You'd be Black Widow. You've got that badass, independent woman vibe," he murmurs, looking over at you with a soft smile.

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah. You're smart, confident, you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, you'd look really hot in the tight outfit." He just can't help himself.

You roll your eyes, softly swatting his bicep. "Of course that's what you think of."

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, feigning innocence. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a man, I like what I like."

And I like you. He can't say it out loud, but acknowledging it is enough for now, and when the cough syrup starts taking effect and your eyes slowly start to droop, he feels content with just having your head on his chest.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Taehyung, and your eyes are barely open when they land on the screen. You didn't even mean to look, it was kinda just an instinctive thing, but you're not interested in his private texts from his friends. What catches your eye is the photo on his lock screen. It's a photo of the two of you from a year ago, both of you making silly faces at the camera. It's a cute photo. If anyone else were to see it, they'd think you're a couple.

“I didn't know that’s your lock screen,” you mumble, your voice a lot sleepier than it was an hour ago.

“Are you snooping?” he teases with a little scoff.

“I didn't mean to look, your phone is kinda in my face from this angle,” you murmur through a soft chuckle, looking down at the photo.

“I like this photo of us.” He smiles when you tap the screen after it goes black, wanting to get another look.

“Coulda used one that I actually look pretty in,” you murmur jokingly, and as the cough syrup drains the last of your consciousness, the last thing you hear is a soft, “But you’re always pretty, y/n.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little bit disorientated after taking all that cold medicine, blinking a few times to clear your vision. You slowly sit up in bed and check your phone, seeing that it's 10am. You almost think you overslept for work, but you realize it's Sunday. You think back to the night before, the way Jungkook came over and fed you soup, the way he gently put VapoRub on your back and made sure you were well taken care of. You turn your head to find Miso in the spot that Jungkook was in last night, and you would feel disappointed that he’s not there anymore if Miso weren't so damn cute. It's not like you expected him to still be here this morning. After all, staying the night is another boundary you don't cross, and he respects that, which explains why he left a little while after you fell asleep.

You feel that fuzzy feeling in your chest again when you take a better look at what's on your nightstand. Your water bottle stands tall, which Jungkook filled before he left last night, along with a little note from one of the notebooks on your desk.

The note says, 'Hope you're feeling a bit better. Get lots of rest and drink your fluids. Don't worry about falling asleep, Miso made sure I saw myself out. Hope to see you at work tomorrow xx'

You read the note again, and then again. It's simple but thoughtful. He didn't have to write a note. He didn't have to come over last night to tend to your illness, but he did, and you aren't surprised because he's him. That's just what he does.

You think about last night until you have to consciously stop yourself from smiling so much because your cheeks feel a bit stiff. You grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll to his contact, your fingers quickly sliding across the keyboard.

You [10:23am]: thank you for coming over last night, kook You [10:23am]: i owe you fr

prof jeon [10:25am]: you really don't 🙄 prof jeon [10:25am]: i just wanted to be there for you prof jeon [10:26am]: it's what spider man would've done 👀

You [10:26am]: 👁️👄👁️ You [10:26am]: nerd

[mayullla]

Title: His Dream Wife

Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)

Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)

Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!

Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.

That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.

Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him. 

Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome. 

And her own manager was ripe for the picking.

She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.

Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.

Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.

He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.

Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.

He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.

Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.

That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller. 

Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.

"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.

"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots. 

Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.” 

“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.

“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”

After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.

"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"

"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms. 

Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.

This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.

Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"

He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"

He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.

It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.

The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.

He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.

The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."

[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]

[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]

[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]

[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]

From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”

"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."

He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.

A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.

It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.

She was stunning.

He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride. 

After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.

But he didn't want to leave either way.

Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.

You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.

Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.

The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.

How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.

The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.

When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.

He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.

You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.

You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them. 

You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.

There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.

Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much. 

He could not help but crumble and fall.

He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.

But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.

"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."

Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?

Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.

It made him livid. 

Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone. 

His wife and your husband.

You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.

That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.

Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.

If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.

If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.

But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.

Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.

Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.

"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."

He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.

His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.

[hoffmansgirl]

❛ 𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙈𝙀 & 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙈𝙀. ⎯ nicholas a. chavez

₊˚⊹౨ৎ 𝓐'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: based on this request !! hope you enjoy! writing this was so much fun xx 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. smoking (weed) ‧ sexual tension ‧ oral (f!receiving) ‧ unprotected piv ‧ size difference ‧ best friends to lovers trope ‧ this one's soft & sweet tbh <3 𝘄𝗰. 4318

"𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦𝗧 fucking movie I've ever seen", you groaned, squinting your eyes before taking a puff of your shared joint. You heard Nicholas hum in agreement as he reached for the remote to shut the TV down. You let your head fall back against the couch, handing the joint to the man next to you blindly.

"Waste of time", Nick commented, deep groan of satisfaction leaving his throat at the burning sensation in his lungs. "But this... This is some real good shit". Your eyes snapped open at the remark, and you smirked, nodding. "Yeah. It is. Fuck". You let your body relax against the couch, before you heard Nicholas speak again.

"Let's...", You could hear the playful smirk on his lips while not even looking at him ⎯ at which you turned your head to watch him. "Let's play a game".

He threw his arm around the backrest of the couch nonchalantly, tilting his head, as if he was challenging you.

His hair was a mess, eyes glistening and slightly red from the joint. Nicholas' pearly smile seemed to light the whole room up, and you could see the outline of his muscles through the white, tight t-shirt he was wearing. He undeniably looked good ⎯ and if he wasn't your best friend, you'd say he looked like the most dreamy man ever.

"A game? What are we, twelve?", you huffed, rolling your eyes before stealing the joint from between his fingers. Nicholas sent you a glare, though his smirk never flattered, as he moved to take a sip of his Pepsi. "What kind of a game?".

"Truth or dare", he shrugged playfully, and you stubbed out the joint. You already began to roll a new one ⎯ you had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

"But it's just us two", you remarked, putting a strand of hair behind your ear, stealing him a glance.

"And that is what makes it even more fun", Nicholas smirked, and you silently agreed. You huffed, lighting the joint and putting some music on in the background ⎯ a playlist you and Nicholas made of your favourite songs.

"Okay. Let's do this, then". You rested your back against the armrest of the couch, playing with the hem of your shorts mindlessly. Mischievous smirk made its way onto Nick's face as he got comfortable.

"So, Y/N... Truth or dare?", he sipped on his drink, looking up at you challengingly. "Truth".

Nick rolled his eyes. "You're no fun".

"Shut up. We're only getting started", you groaned, hitting him with a pillow ⎯ soft enough not to spill his drink. "Ask away".

He seemed to think for a second, and you blew the smoke from your mouth, getting more and more comfortable against the couch. You drummed your fingers against the backrest, watching your friend with hooded eyes.

"The worst date you've been on", he smirked, leaning down and taking the joint from between your fingers. You huffed, throwing your heavy head back.

"Alan took me to this party once", Nicholas groaned at the name of your ex boyfriend, at which you laughed softly. "He called it a date, but he ended up ignoring me the whole night, getting wasted with his friends. Then he threw up in my car", you winced at the memory, and Nicholas did, too ⎯ the disgust evident on his face, and he didn't even try to hide it.

"He was such a dickhead", Nick laughed, and you couldn't help but stare at his perfect lips while he did so. "Yeah, he was. Truth or dare?".

Nicholas seemed to think for a second, and he hesitatingly replied: "Truth".

"You are such a pussy", you laughed teasingly, deciding to take things a little further. "When was the last time you masturbated?".

Nicholas' eyes widened, and so did yours ⎯ boldness wasn't exactly one of your strongest qualities, but the hazy atmosphere in the room seemed to have awakened something in you.

The air thickened with tension, and you caught a glimpse of Nicholas' stupid smirk ⎯ his confidence never flattering, even though he seemed to hesitate for a second. "Yesterday".

You didn't expect him to answer ⎯ not so directly, at least. You couldn't help but let out a quiet gasp, covering it with yet another puff of your joint. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping Nicholas didn't notice how flustered you suddenly became.

"To what?", you couldn't help but ask, but Nicholas tutted, spreading his legs and resting his hand on his thigh nonchalantly. Your eyes lingered on the veins that popped up on his arms. You always noticed how attractive he was. God, how couldn't you? He was charming, funny, and really fucking hot ⎯ but he was also your best friend. Yet you couldn't help but stare ⎯ the way his hair fell on his forehead messily, dark eyes looking deep into your soul, lips twisted into a little smirk.

Your head suddenly felt very heavy; you grew more and more relaxed with each passing second, yet your newfound confidence only seemed to get stronger.

"Not so fast", Nicholas winked at you, tilting his head. "Your turn. Truth or dare?".

Before you could think it through, you were already replying. "Dare".

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze to rest on your thighs ⎯ the shorts you were seemed to be ridiculously exposing now, every inch of your skin burning with something you couldn't quite name.

"Bold, aren't you?", Nicholas chuckled lowly; his low, teasing voice making your whole body shake. "Hmm. Exchange smoke with me".

You lifted your head from the couch ⎯ it wasn't unusual for the two of you to do it, so you felt pretty confident as you instantly moved closer towards Nick. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you suddenly felt breathless, as he twisted his body to sit perfectly across from you. You took the joint from between Nicholas' fingers, brushing over his hand in the process. Spark of electricity run through you ⎯ you could barely hear the music playing in the background anymore, Nick's smile consuming every part of your body. It was the first time you felt this type of tension lingering in the air ⎯ the one that made it hard to breathe, the smell of your best friend's cologne invading your senses.

You let out a shaky breath before lifting the joint to your lips, taking a deep puff, putting your other hand on Nicholas' cheek to get him closer. You were hypnotised by the look in his eyes; predatory, as if he was seeing right through you, hearing your thoughts.

Nicholas' lips opened, and you leaned down to blow the smoke into his mouth. Your lips brushed in the process, just slightly, but enough to make your heart race. Nicholas' left hand landed on your side, travelling up to brush over your back softly.

You pulled back and he inhaled, closing his eyes for a second before breathing the smoke out. His eyes were dazed, playful smirk playing on his lips; you traced his defined jaw with your pointer finger lightly, feeling his muscles clench under your touch.

You stubbed out whatever was left of the joint, squealing in surprise when you were pulled on Nicholas' lap in one, swift movement. He hid his face in your neck, both of his hands travelling up your body to rest on your hips. You should be surprised, pull him away and ask him what he was doing ⎯ yet, due to the buzzing in your head, how tired you suddenly became, all you could do was press your back against his chest and get comfortable.

"New perfume?", his voice came out low, raspy, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. You shifted on his lap, causing the bulge in his pants to press against your ass tightly. "I like it".

A part of you knew it was wrong ⎯ he was your best friend, you knew each other since forever ⎯ but his touch on your bare skin, the heat radiating off him; all of it was intoxicating, way too good to just let it go.

"Yeah. Cherry⎯ Cherry and almond", you whispered, and Nicholas hummed, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. "But it's your turn now. Truth or dare?".

"Dare", he didn't even hesitate, and you shifted again, earning a soft groan from him ⎯ you bit back a moan at the vibration of his voice against your sensitive skin. His soft, big hands travelled up your rib cage, stopping just below the hem of your top.

"Kiss me, Nicholas", you managed to get out, squeezing your eyes shut, your whole body on fire, and your friend froze behind you.

"I⎯ Are you sure?", he asked, and you rolled your eyes, twisting your body so that you could straddle his lap properly. "Only if you are".

You smiled fondly before pressing a soft, sweet kiss on Nicholas' lips. Your hands found their place on his broad shoulders; his muscles twitching under your touch.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship", he whispered softly, and you hummed, eyes half-closed as you lowered your head to brush your lips against the side of his neck teasingly. Nicholas gripped your hips, grounding you on top of him, his erection now brushing against your inner thighs.

"You drive me crazy", he mumbled, transfixed on the way your soft breath tickled his skin, his eyes threatening to close from the sensation. "Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?".

You couldn't help but laugh at the stupid question; Nicholas' chest vibrated against yours, sweet giggle leaving his mouth, and the atmosphere seemed to lighten just for a second.

"You're talking too much", you grinned, meeting his dark, chocolate eyes, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Nicholas' demeanour switched as he took you in, and, unable to control himself anymore, he pulled you towards him in a soft kiss.

The feeling of his lips, soft, warm and delicate against yours ⎯ it was everything you never thought you needed. Everything you did was in sync, the prolonged, shaky breaths leaving your mouths, or the way your hands tightened on the other's skin ⎯ pulling each other closer as your lips brushed against each other in a slow dance.

Soon enough, you grounded yourself against the tent in his grey sweatpants, inaudibly begging for more. Nicholas' hands travelled down your back, testing the waters as his fingertips grazed over your ass teasingly. You grinded your hips down, causing him to moan; allowing your tongue to enter his mouth swiftly. There was no more softness in the way you moved anymore ⎯ you grew bolder, your tongue rolling over his' with passion, as you tugged on his soft hair playfully.

"I've always wanted to do this", Nicholas whispered, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes ⎯ making sure you knew he was being honest. You smiled, breathing heavily, your heart swelling at the words.

"Only this?", you chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose softly. Your friend bit his lip at the words, his cheeks and neck slightly flushed, at which you smiled softly.

"No. Not only this. I just⎯ I never thought you'd want it, too", he admitted, his fingers tracing circles on your lower back.

"And what if I tell you...", you lowered your voice, brushing your lips against Nicholas' ear teasingly. "I want it just as much as you do? And I don't want you to hold back on me".

Nicholas' hands on your back tightened, and he seemed to hesitate for a second, before he caught your lips with his' again. His demeanour seemed to switch again, as he bit on your lower lip roughly, tugging on it with his teeth before soothing the pain with a bruising kiss. You squealed in surprise when suddenly you were lifted from the couch, Nicholas' hands on your thighs as he walked you both to your bedroom. You giggled into the kiss as he stumbled, causing you to tighten your legs around his hips.

The second you stepped into your bedroom, Nicholas' used his foot to shut the door behind you both, pressing you tightly against the cold surface.

His lips were back on yours in an instant, and he pressed his lower body tightly against yours.

You tugged on his shirt, inaudibly begging him to take it off, and he obeyed. Nicholas dropped you to the floor carefully ⎯ your knees were shaking terribly, and your breath hitched when he took his shirt off.

With all strength you had left, you pushed Nicholas to the bed, and he grinned, moving up until he was resting on your sheets comfortably. You straddled his lap again, licking your lips as you took him in.

It wasn't the first time you saw Nicholas' chest ⎯ he often took his shirt off when the two of you were together, but this time it was different. You run your hands down his abdomen, feeling the strong muscles under your fingertips. The urge to worship every part of him was too strong, now ⎯ you lowered your head, sucking on the soft skin of his collarbone, running your hot tongue over his soft skin. Nicholas' let out a shaky breath as you marked him, and he didn't protest when you left bruises everywhere you could reach.

"You're so hot, Nick", you mumbled, your hands travelling down his abs as you looked up at him, circling your tongue around his nipple teasingly. Nicholas' lips opened in a silent moan, his hands tugging on the sheets tightly. "A fucking work of art".

Your lips closed around the pink nub, and you grazed your teeth over it experimentally, watching as Nicholas' head fell back against the pillows, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You teased his sensitive nipples for a while, before moving down his body, brushing your lips against his hard stomach insatiably. A breathless moan left Nicholas, and his hand was in your hair, pulling you off him as you reached the waistband of his sweatpants.

You were on your back in a second, Nicholas' hands tugging on your shirt greedily. You obeyed, taking the excess material off your body, exposing your bare chest to him.

His eyes widened ⎯ he didn't expect you to not wear a bra; his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at your exposed chest. A small, shy smile appeared on your face as you watched the admiration filling Nicholas' features. "You're so beautiful, baby", he rasped, moving to kneel in between your legs, his hands spreading your thighs as he latched his mouth on your breasts greedily. He licked, bit and kissed your soft skin, and your back arched off the bed at the feeling. You could feel his hardness press against your clothed centre, and a breathless moan left both of you when Nicholas pressed his hips against yours tightly. You tugged on his hair, and he bit on your nipple softly, sucking the nub in between his teeth before pulling away with a pop.

He rutted his hips against yours experimentally, causing a loud, choked sound to leave your mouth.

"You sound so pretty", he groaned hungrily, pressing a wet, bruising kiss on your lips before pulling away.

His hot hands travelled down your chest, roaming over your stomach before lingering just above the waistband of your shorts.

"Are you...", he began, but you were already rolling your eyes before he could finish.

"Fuck, yes, I'm sure. Stop holding back. Please".

His eyes darkened, and you bit back a moan as he practically ripped the shorts off your body, along with your lacy, black thong. He cursed under his breath, before spreading your thighs wide, admiring the sight of your wet, exposed pussy. You clenched around nothing, his gaze so intense, so greedy, it almost had you closing your legs.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy", he groaned, laying down between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs tightly. "Bet she tastes sweet, too".

With these words, he dived in, lapping at your cunt as if he hasn't ate in days. You let out a high-pitched moan, your hands finding place on his hair, tugging tightly with every stroke of his tongue. He sucked on your little clit, his eyes falling open to watch your face confront in pleasure. Groans left his mouth at the taste of your sweet juices coating his tongue, his hips rutting against the bed ⎯ his own need evident in every movement.

You cried out when you felt his tongue circling your sensitive nub tirelessly, your legs beginning to shake, signalling your orgasm was near.

"Nicholas, oh my God", you whined, throwing your head back, hips beginning to move in sync with his tongue. "I'm so close, baby⎯ Don't stop".

He chuckled lowly, the sound sending vibrations right through your core, and in an instant you were coming all over him, your juices creating a wet puddle under your ass.

"Tastes so good", he groaned, continuing his assault on your pussy even when you shook in overstimulation. Tears blurred your vision, but you had no energy to stop him, not when it felt so good.

He was being overly messy, swirling his tongue around your heat in a way that had you breathless ⎯ his groans vibrating against you, his eyes following your every reaction. He teased your entrance with his tongue, before dipping into it experimentally, smirking when your legs shook around his head.

"Nick, oh my God⎯ 's too much", you cried out, and he doubled his efforts, his arms pinning your legs to the bed, leaving you completely at his mercy.

"I love this sweet fucking pussy", he whined, licking a stripe up to your clit, before his mouth closed around it again. He sucked, hard, and you were seeing white, sweating all over your satin sheets, barely able to breathe, tears blurring your vision. "I can't wait to see you cum again".

Two of his thick, long fingers circled your entrance before he pushed them into you in one, swift movement. He sighed at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him like a vice, and he curled them upwards experimentally, having you see stars with a little to no effort.

You let out a shallow breath as Nicholas' lips moved up your body, his fingers plunging into you again and again. The pressure in your stomach was ready to snap any second now, and when he grabbed your neck tightly, staring down at you with hooded eyes, you swore you could cum from the sight alone.

"You're so filthy. I love it", he smirked, cutting your airflow with a squeeze of his hand. You grabbed his forearm tightly, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt his thumb press tight circles into your clit.

With a choked scream, you squirted all over his hand and your own sheets, and Nicholas pulled back to watch the transparent fluid escape your cunt with every withdraw of his fingers.

"Good fucking girl. Let it all out", he cooed softly, helping you ride out your orgasm. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and Nicholas removed his hand from your neck, allowing you to take deep breaths. "Holy shit, Nick", you managed to choke out, your legs shaky from the overwhelming pleasure.

Nicholas' gaze on you was hard, demanding, as he brought his drenched fingers to your mouth. "Suck".

You didn't hesitate for a second, opening your mouth and letting him press his fingers down against your tongue. You lapped on your own juices covering his long fingers, holding onto his forearm for dear life, moaning at the taste of yourself. Nicholas' other hand found place on your head, as he caressed your hair softly, almost lovingly, thrusting his fingers down your throat experimentally. You gagged, hollowing your cheeks while looking up at him, battling your lashes. Nicholas let out a strangled groan, pushing his fingers as far as they could go, watching you struggle. "I can't wait to see these pretty lips wrapped around my dick", he rasped, and you moaned when he finally freed your mouth.

With the little strength you had left, you pushed yourself up, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants greedily. Nicholas obeyed, too horny to ask you if you were sure ⎯ his pants and boxers were on the floor in an instant, and he was already kissing you with urgency that left you breathless.

You felt his dick press against your thigh, heavy, long and thick ⎯ and you started to worry about if he was going to fit at all.

Nicholas could almost feel your sudden uncertainty, as he pulled away, towering over your much smaller form ⎯ the size difference never really mattered that much, until now. You stared at his cock, wide eyed. His size made your mouth water, the glistening, angry red tip almost too tempting.

"You⎯ You're so fucking big", you sighed, reaching down to wrap your hand around him. Nicholas' head fell down when he finally felt your touch on his painfully hard cock, his cross necklace swinging just above your face as he pressed both of his hands on the sides of your head, pinning you under him. Soft grunts left his mouth, and when you teased his tip with your thumb lightly ⎯ you felt his whole body clench above you.

"As much as I⎯ Fuck⎯ As much as I'd like to cum in your mouth or in your hand, I need to be inside you. Now".

His voice was rough, leaving you no room to protest as he leaned back, his hand replacing your own on his length. He pumped himself a few times, his dark eyes roaming over your form greedily, before he run his tip over your clit lightly. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the pressure, and Nicholas grunted when your wetness covered his aching cock. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed the tip into your tight, weeping hole.

Your eyes snapped open, and you felt yourself clench around his thick tip ⎯ Nicholas let out a strangled pant at the feeling of your warm, inviting cunt.

"Oh, fuck. I thought I prepped you well", he managed to let out, drunk on the way your cunt took him in.

He slowly sank deeper into you, letting you adjust to the painful stretch, running his hands over your thighs to help you relax. "Almost all the way in. I'm so proud of you", he cooed softly, at which you clenched again, nodding your head to signal you were ready for more.

When he finally bottomed out, you cried out, feeling as if he was ripping your insides apart. Nicholas' eyes fell closed as you kept on clenching around him, and he swore he could cum from the feeling alone.

"Ba⎯baby, you need to relax. Fuck. Just relax", he groaned, and you tried to do exactly what he had told.

After a few seconds, you finally managed to get used to the stretch ⎯ now feeling so incredibly full, so deeply connected to him, but you needed more.

"Nicholas, move, please", you begged, and he was more than happy to obey.

He pulled out almost all the way, before snapping his hips into yours, watching the way your tits bounced with the movement. He pressed your legs flat against the mattress, and you cried out when he leaned down to tower over you again. His thrusts were slow but deep, the angle making him hit that spongy spot inside of you, and you were shaking, completely at his mercy.

"You're taking me so well", Nicholas praised, kissing the corner of your mouth sweetly. "My good little girl. So tight, so warm".

You swore you could cum from his words alone, and when his fingers moved up from your thigh to press soft circles on your stiff, overstimulated clit, you were on the edge immediately.

"You feel so good, baby", he continued, speeding up, the sounds of his skin meeting yours filling the air. "I know you want to cum for me. Go on baby, let go for me".

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you nodded mindlessly, digging your nails into Nicholas' strong shoulders, drawing blood in the process.

Nicholas' tip kissed ⎯ no, fucked ⎯ your cervix repeatedly, as he buried himself in you over and over again, holding his own orgasm off.

When you finally let go, you felt as if your orgasm lasted a lifetime ⎯ you clenched around him so hard it was nearly impossible for him to keep his steady movements, your hips lifting off the mattress, grinding against his own as your orgasm washed over you.

"Fuck, I love you", Nicholas cried out, letting go of your legs only to stroke your cheeks in his big hands. He kissed you softly, groaning into your mouth as he painted your walls white, filling you with his cum.

At first, you didn't even comprehend his words ⎯ it took you a second after the earth shattering orgasm you had just experienced. Nicholas pulled away from your lips, letting you breathe, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his own breath.

After a few seconds, he carefully removed his cock from you, laying down on his back, and you cuddled into his side. You traced soft circles on his chest as he covered the two of you with a blanket, kissing your forehead lovingly.

"Did you mean it?", you whispered, looking up at him, and he smiled softly. "Yes. I meant it".

"I love you too, Nick", your heart swelled as he pulled you closer, big smiles adoring both of your faces as you fell asleep in each other's warm embrace.

hoffmansgirl © 2024 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. nicholas chavez masterlist ☆

tags: @darlingnikkisixx @titsout4nicholas @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @millietozier

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Wrote this a while back and got a lot of requests for a part 2 so I will post it as well! Along with a blurb I've written. Never really planned to make this a series but if you guys want more just let me know! :)

Warnings: Light smut, language, cocaine, angst, pregnancy, mention of abortion, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe thrusted into you one final time before finishing. Cumming deep inside of you for the fourth time tonight. "Fuckkkkk," He moaned before pulling out of you and laying on his back. "You're so fucking tight."

"Yep," You said dryly as you pulled your panties and shorts back on.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asked as he turned to look at you.

"Uhhh, home?" You tell him. "Why would I stay?"

"Whatever," Rafe said before rolling over and pouring a line of coke out on his night stand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag before leaving his room and storming through the house out the front door.

The walk home was boring. You put your headphones in and slowly danced your way back to the Chateau. As you did every fucking night.

After your mom split and John B's dad went missing you were John B's legal guardian. You were step siblings but his dad raised you when your mom left and for that you were forever grateful. Even though you were a little older, you were really close with John B and his friends. You guys did everything together. Told eachother everything. Except for this.

You'd been sleeping with Rafe for 6 months now. It all started after a Christmas party last December. You were working your shift at the club, way more tipsy than you should have been for being on the clock. A drunk Rafe Cameron started talking you up and you flirted back. The boy was handsome enough. Granted, he was a fucking dick. But you just wanted to get off.

He took you into the bathroom on your break and absolutely rocked your world. No one had ever made you cum like he did. The way you could feel yourself release around his cock made you both fucking dissolve into the earth.

From that day forward, you guys fucked constantly. But you never told a soul and neither did he. Kooks and Pogues don't hook up.

______________

Your eyes flickered open. "Ugh," You groaned as you tried to sit up. You were in your room, Kiara asleep next to you. She slept with you every night since her parents kicked her out. She was your closest girlfriend.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you hopped out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. You expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Gasping for air in between heaves.

"Are you okay?" Kiara was at the door now, crouching beside you to hold your hair back.

"Must be the flu," You said before vomiting again. "I didn't even drink last night."

"Alright let me get you some water and a pillow. You're probably gonna stay in here today."

You rested by the toilet and drank your water but by 11am you were feeling 100%.

You walked out into the kitchen and greeted everyone.

"Don't get us sick," John B said, stepping back from you.

"I feel fine now," You said. "I'm actually hungry!"

Sarah and Kiara eyed you for a moment. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You said as you popped some waffles in the toaster.

"Are you pregnant?" Kie asked.

You paused for a moment. You and Rafe never used condoms. And had you been taking your birth control lately? You were always bad at taking meds.

"Aha, no. No way." You responded.

John B, JJ, and Pope sat awkwardly.

You looked to the floor as you pressed your hand to your stomach. Thoughts racing through your head as you tried to remember the last time you had your period. "Fuck."

"Do you have a secret lover?" Sarah teased.

"John B, give me the keys to the Twinkie." You demanded.

John B fished them out of his pocket and handed them to you and you rushed out the door.

"Y/N, where are you going?!" Kiara called after you but you ignored her.

You hopped into the van and drove off quickly. When you pulled up to the drug store you ran inside and and bought five pregnancy tests and a gallon of water.

You leaned back in your seat and sighed after chugging as much water as you could.

You considered texting Rafe but you voted against it. You needed to be sure.

You drove back to the Chateau, grocery bag in hand as you locked yourself in the bathroom.

Two hours later you were standing over the counter, staring at the five plus signs set before you.

You couldn't help but cry. "Fuck..."

"Y/N?" You heard Sarah and Kie outside your door. You leaned back and swallowed. You had no idea what to do but telling a friend might be a good start.

You open the door and yank them into the bathroom. "Y/N! What's going on?" Sarah asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh before nodding your head towards the bathroom counter.

Sarah and Kie look at eachother before slowly walking towards where the five pregnancy tests sat. Five. And they were all positive.

"Oh shit, Y/N..." Sarah said.

Kiara swallowed. "Uhm...is this like a congratulations or a 'we need to go to the clinic right now' situation?"

"I don't know," You said, joining them by the sink. "I should probably talk to...to..him." Your eyes fell to your feet.

"Who, Y/N?" Kiara asked. "We can take you there, we're here for you."

You laugh and throw your head back.

"Y/N...Who is he?" Sarah asks.

You bite your lip as you look down to meet her eyes.

She was confused and concerned. She wanted to help but her and Kie were both nervous about what was going on.

"Rafe," You said softly, barely a whisper.

Kiara and Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "Wait..Rafe? My brother?? Rafe's the dad?!" Sarah was practically screaming now.

"Shhhh!" You said as you ran and covered her mouth. "Yes, it's Rafe's okay! Can we please not scream it to the whole world?!"

Sarah was silent as you backed away from her.

"Since when have you been fucking Rafe Cameron?!" Kiara asks.

"Y/N, he's a piece of shit!" Sarah added.

"Okay, listen! We've been hooking up since Christmas and...I don't know. I thought it was a one time thing but it just kept happening."

"Is that where you go every night?!" Sarah asked.

You sigh and press your tongue to your inner cheek. "Yeah."

"So you're fucking my brother," Sarah scoffs.

"You're fucking mine!" You hiss back.

Sarah rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Touche. But Rafe's a fucking dick!"

"Yeah, I'm aware." You sigh as you lean back and sink to the floor. "Should I even tell him?"

"He'd wanna know," Sarah said softly. "As much as I hate him, he loves hard."

You feel your phone buzz and pull it from your pocket. "Fuck, it's Rafe."

You coming over tonight?

"I can't do this." You begin to cry, placing your head on your knees. "Rafe doesn't even care about me. I'm just pussy to him."

"I don't know, Y/N...He's always sucked at showing his true feelings."

You shake your head before Sarah can say anything else. You grab your phone and respond.

No. We shouldn't see each other anymore.

You hesitate but press send. It breaks your heart but you know this is the right thing.

Your phone buzzes again but you ignore it.

"I'm gonna call the clinic," You say as you excuse yourself from the bathroom and go sit on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone, not being able to bring yourself to do it.

"Fuck this!" You yell as you toss your phone across the patio.

"Y/N-"

"What John B?!"

"Are you okay?"

You were pacing now, taking drags off your cigarette as you tried to catch your breath.

"You shouldn't be smoking." John B says.

You turn to look at him. "Doesn't matter," You mutter.

"You're pregnant." John B states. You turn to look at him again. Annoyed the Kie and Sarah said anything. "And no, Kie and Sarah didn't tell me. I'm just not stupid."

You sit down and sigh, dragging your cigarette again.

Your phone continues to buzz from the other side of the porch. John B goes to pick it up. When you notice him staring at it you quickly snatch it from his hands.

"Rafe?" His voice is almost a whisper.

You sigh as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yeah." You respond.

You look down at your phone to see the five messages Rafe had sent you.

What? What do you mean? Why?

Y/N, I'm sorry I was a dick last night.

Please talk to me.

I'm sorry...

I need to talk to you. Please.

"Are you gonna tell him?" John B asks.

You put your head in your hands as you try to choke back tears. You had not intended to find out you were pregnant today. Nor were you prepared for your brother and all your friends to find out you'd been fucking Rafe Cameron. It was all too overwhelming.

"I don't know," You respond honestly.

John B sighs. "Look, never been a fan of Rafe. I had no clue you two were.....close." He says, motioning towards your stomach. "But I think you should think about it a little more and talk to him before you make a final decision."

You chewed on his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

_________

You locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. Curled up under the covers as your phone continued to vibrate.

Nonstop calls and texts from Rafe. Since when has he cared so much? He was probably just coked out and horny.

You decided to shut your phone off. He'd have to find another girl to get his dick wet. Sex was the last thing you wanted right now.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, completely unsure of what to do.

The next three days were awful. Throwing up all morning, crying all afternoon. Your friends tried to be there for you but you continued to barricade yourself in your room. You'd come out once in a while to grab some food and water and instantly go back to your bed, binge watching Jersey Shore on your lap top under the covers.

You'd kept your phone off. You really just couldn't bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. And the people you would need to talk to were right outside the door.

_______

"Oh shit," Sarah said as she stood up from her spot on the porch, getting a better view of Rafe's truck pulling up to the Chateau.

The rest of the Pogues stood up too, not fully prepared to handle this situation.

"John B!" Rafe said as he hopped out of his truck. "John B, look man, I don't have any beef with you, alright? I just really need to see Y/N."

"She's not feeling great right now, man." John B responded.

Kiara slipped away and rushed to your bedroom.

You heard knocking on your door and you groaned. "What?"

"Y/N, uhm..." Kiara begins.

"What is it, Kie? I'm sleeping."

"Rafe's here."

Your chest tightens at her words.

"I don't-I don't think he's going to leave without seeing you, Y/N."

"Fuck me!" You whisper as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll be out in a second!"

Kiara goes back to where Rafe and John B are arguing on the porch. "She'll be right out."

The boys shut up and look at her.

"Thank you." Rafe said.

You hop out of bed and open your door. The light of day almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. You instantly missed the dark warmth of your bed.

You slowly make your way to the porch. Your plaid pajama shorts clung loosely to your hips while your tank top hugged you tightly. Your hair was a wavy mess. You hadn't done anything to it in days. But you really couldn't care less at this point.

You shyly step outside. Rafe's eyes flicker to you, a small smile on his lips before taking in your appearance. Concern instantly washing over his face. "Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, taking a step closer to you and reaching for your hands.

You quickly pull away from him and he frowns. "Uhm, could you guys give us a minute?" You ask the group. They all nod hesitantly and head inside.

"Why are you here, Rafe?" You ask once the two of you are alone.

"I haven't heard from you in days. I-I got worried."

You sighed and looked down to your feet.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry I've been such a dick. I'm trying to quit the blow it's just so hard, ya know?"

"It's fine, Rafe. I knew what this was from the beginning." You shrug.

"I like you." He admits. You look up at him. "I like you a lot. I suck at showing it and I get why you're probably sick of me. But I need you to know you're more than just sex to me."

"W-what do you mean?" You ask confused.

Rafe lets out a slow, shaky breathe and scratches the back of his head. "I'm not good at...at showing emotions," He begins. "I don't like being vulnerable. That's why I do coke, I guess. I've just-I've never been good at the whole feelings thing and I just really didn't know how to tell you how I really felt. But when you said you didn't want to see me anymore...." He trails off, looking down to meet your gaze. "I-it hurt me..."

Your expression softens and you give him a sympathetic smile.

"And if you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. I just wanted to tell you-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head into his chest. He was stunned for a moment but moved to wrap his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your messy hair.

"I like you too, Rafe." You admit. "And I don't want to stop seeing you. I was just scared. There is something we need to talk about..."

"Anything, sweetheart," He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut. "Rafe, I'm pregnant." The words leave your lips without warning and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next.

Rafe stops moving. Your body tenses as you still cling to him. After a moment, he places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you back to look at him. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm pregnant. I was going to call the clinic but I thought I should talk to you about it first and I'm sorry I ignored you the last few days I just-"

Rafe starts shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, baby, shhhh." He says. "I just uhm...do you want to keep it?" He asks nervously.

"I-I mean...I've just never really thought about being a mom before."

"We can move you to Tannyhill," Rafe starts. "And I'll tell my dad I need more work and we'll save up and Wheezie can babysit and-"

"Rafe!" You stop him. You can't help but laugh. "Are you saying you want to keep it? I was only going to call the clinic because I thought you wouldn't want to..."

"Yes, yes!" He says, picking you up and twirling you around. When he sets you back down he takes your face between his hands and kisses you deeply. The kiss was passionate, filled with love, unlike the hungry make out sessions that usually stole your nights.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Rafe yelled as he jumped off the porch, full of energy.

You laughed, tears of joy filling your eyes as you heard the Pogues come back out on the porch. This went way better than you had expected.

"I take it that went well?" John B asks as he watches Rafe run around in excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rafe so happy before," Sarah chuckles beside you.

"Whoo! Okay!" Rafe says as he comes back over to you, practically out of breath. He gets on his knees and places kisses along your stomach. "I'm taking you to lunch. What do you want to eat? You can have whatever you want, baby, on me."

"Rafe," You laugh, running your fingers through his hair as he keeps his lips pressed to your belly. "Can I at least shower first?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course baby. You wanna shower here? Or we could go to my house,"

"Oh God, please go to Tannyhill." Sarah says, the rest of the group agreeing with her. "This here is a shared shower."

You laugh. "Let me just grab some things and we can go,"

"Okay," Rafe agrees, smiling as he watches you disappear into the Chateau.

"You gonna take care of her? And that baby?" John B asks as he stands next to Rafe.

"Definitely," Rafe responds. "She has no idea how happy she makes me. But I'm gonna show her."

John B nods and offers a small smile.

"Ready!" You say as you come back out, duffle bag over your shoulder.

Rafe takes it from you immediately and goes to put it in his truck.

"Congratulations," John B says, pulling you into a hug.

"Thanks, JB," You smile. "I'll call you later, okay? Stay out of trouble!" You command as you walk towards the truck.

"Aye-aye," He says, saluting you.

You smile as Rafe helps you into the passenger seat. "You ready to go, Mama?" He asks, brushing his hand over your still flat stomach.

You smirk at the gesture. "Definitely."

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[kingdomaddiction]

I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--

You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.

They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.

SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.

So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.

He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )

Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.

SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.

He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!

His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.

"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-

"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.

"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"

SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.

Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.

"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "

"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.

"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."

SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.

..

Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.

I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.

MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?

While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!

SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.

They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end

Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; there is now a taglist! to be added simply let me know down in the comments. enjoy part two!

part one.

as much as you’d grown fond of sarah in the couple of hours since your arrival, her friends made your skin crawl. topper, her boyfriend, with his dumb face and holier-than-thou attitude. you didn’t see what sarah could possibly find appealing, but it wasn’t your place to meddle.

for the duration of getting ready, all sarah did was talk about jj. more specifically, you and jj. she even offered to set you two up, but with sarahs standing with the pouges, it didn’t take a genius to figure out it's better to go solo.

sarahs cropped, off the shoulder sweater does little to shield you from the cool breeze sweeping across the beach. even stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts did very little.

you’d seen on tiktok, the most reliable source of information, that alcohol warmed people up which is why you were already on the fourth drink of the night.

nothing to do with finding the courage to talk to john b, that would be ridiculous.

you and sarah were sat on the opposite side of the beach to the pouges, the wooden log hurting your butt as it was used as a makeshift seat. through the flames of the bonfire you watch the pouges, laughing and drinking.

you’re looking at john b and can’t help spotting the similarities between you two, even down to small mannerisms you shared. you wondered if he had any idea about you, if your father had ever told him about you.

taking another swig, your gaze falls onto another pouge of interest. you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you, nodding his head to gesture you over.

you smile, a genuine, excited smile. it’s too early for schoolgirl crushes, yet you can’t help it. the alcohol in your system doesn’t help it either.

you mumble a quick 'be right back' to sarah, sitting beside you engrossed in deep conversation with an unknown girl about selling sunsets' newest season. she glances at you over her shoulder, giving you a quick nod of acknowledgment and reminding you to be safe.

you head over to the pouges, a light jog across the beach brings you there faster but not fast enough. the reckless, and tipsy, part of your brain wants to get your intentions out in the open. you want to pull john b to the side and pour your drunken little heart out, and if it ended badly you could blame the alcohol.

but then you imagined yourself in his position, how you would feel if john b randomly showed up and dropped a bomb into your life unprovoked.

he looked so happy, like he was having the time of his life, and you couldn't bring yourself to ruin that. the least you could do was spare him the honour of hearing it from you when you were sober, without an audience.

"there she is," jj grins, not exactly slurring his words but you could tell he was buzzed at the very least "turn around, wanna get a good look at you."

with a playful eye roll, you give in to his request, twirling in a circle and laughing at the wolf whistle he lets out in response.

you're more than compliant when he reaches a hand towards you and pulls you closer, the same hand gripping your waist as he held you against his side.

admittedly, you're surprised when he doesn't make a move the second you're close enough. instead he holds on to you as he continues his conversation with pope, almost protectively, possessively.

"kie, back me up here," jj pleads, free hand being thrown up in the air in protest. the same girl from earlier, which you now know to be kie, throws her hands up in surrender.

"not my beef, i'm the neutral party in this war"

you can't help but laugh at the swiftness of her shutdown, your head resting comfortably against jj's shoulder as his thumb grazed back and forth against the skin beneath your sweater.

now, pope and kie are bickering back and forth, john b is flirting with what was commonly referred to as a 'touron' which leaves you and jj in your own little bubble, content and comfortable.

"so, what do you think of paradise so far?" jj asks, voice soft and a sarcastic emphasis on paradise "not too bad, huh?"

"it's growing on me," you grin, putting the sudden butterflies in your stomach down to having too much to drink "i've lived in worse places."

an eyebrow quirks, curiosity evident on jjs face, you can tell he wants to ask more, but for someone so forward he seems to be reluctant.

"don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to sticking in one place," you admit, as truthful as you can be without saying too much "kinda just bounce around."

"sounds expensive, you sure you ain't a kook?" jj teases, head tilted downward to bring you two face to face "'cause, i'm down with the whole being a sugar baby thing."

you laugh, loudly, head flung back, hair being blown in the wind as jj retains his grip on you, awestruck as he took you in for as long as he could. he wished he could freeze this moment and live in it forever, which made him want to squirm because he had just met you that day.

your bubble of euphoria is quickly burst, the beach erupting in roars as people grouped around the shore. a fight.

you roll your eyes, annoyed beyond explanation. you scan the crowd, trying to pick out any faces you could even somewhat recognise in an attempt to work out who was at the root of the fight.

much like this morning, you see that recognisable flash of blonde pushing through the crowds. your posture straightens, a weird feeling of protectiveness taking hold as her screams of toppers name rise above the chants of 'fight'.

you really did not like topper, so you weren't pushing through people for him, but for sarah.

"top! you're gonna kill him!"

and she wasn't wrong, as you drew closer to the scene you had a plain view of the scene that had the partygoers enthralled. topper holding someone under the water, obviously wanting whoever was under to not come back up.

it's only when you catch sight of who topper is trying to kill does your feet speed up, carrying you faster and faster towards the water. your brain struggling to come up with a plan as fast as you're moving.

you don't know how it happens, but you're on toppers back, your arm wrapped so tightly around his neck that you're starting to lose feeling. in some sort of femme fetal action movie, you would've taken him down.

but it wasn't a movie.

as if it was nothing, topper reaches behind himself and pulls you off him, ripping you straight into the ice-cold water.

"fuckin' pouge" he spits, hands wrapping around your throat as he forces you underwater this time. you claw and kick and squirm, but he's stronger. what feels like hours is only seconds, when you break the surface your hands are bloody and there's a gash across toppers face.

your reprieve is short-lived, only having come up in the first place because topper had recoiled in pain. you were far from a quitter, but this was a fight you knew you weren't coming out of. so when the water covered your face once more, you let it.

it was scarily peaceful, people's screams and shouts practically inaudible. falling asleep would be easy right about now, you could just drift off.

you would probably be better off.

your delusional tranquillity comes to an abrupt end when you, yet again, resurface. this time the party is well and truly over, people running in every direction.

you worried it was the cops, you really would have been better off if topper had finished the job if that was the case.

"hey, hey you good?" john b is holding your face as you cough up the water you inhaled. his voice is soft, gentle as he checks on you.

he was the big brother you grew up praying for, only he was none the wiser.

when you burst into tears it's put down to shock, and when you throw your arms around john b he doesn't question it, instead he helps you to your feet.

"come on kid, we got you."

when you wake you have no idea where you are, sun filters through flimsy curtains and you're dressed in clothes you definitely weren't wearing the night before.

before you have time to work yourself into a breakdown, a soft knock raps against the door. it opens before you can say a word.

john b gently closes the door behind him, sitting at the foot of the bed to give you as much space as possible "how are you feeling?"

"whose clothes are these?" you blurt out, desperately wanting to figure out how she got into this outfit and, more importantly, who put you into it.

as if he could read your mind, he explains "kie, kiara, had the supplies. got you changed out of your wet clothes, alone, scouts honour."

a sigh of relief bellows through your entire body, at least that was something.

"i gotta ask you something," john b starts, his tone shifting ever so slightly to one more serious "i went through everything in my head a dozen times but i can't work out why you did that?"

"did what?"

"saved my life." john b deadpans, looking you in the eye with an intensity that tells you you can't lie your way out of this one "you could have died."

without a word, you stand. you find your damp clothes tossed in a corner and pick them up. john b watches as you stuff your hands into your pockets, dread bubbling up as he tried to come up with what your reasoning could possibly be.

when you return, you sit beside him with your hands clasped around the cold metal you'd pulled from the pocket of your shorts.

"you have to hear me out." you being, hyperaware of how insane what you were about to tell him was "believe me, i know this is insane."

watching his reaction, you show him the compass your father had given you. up until recently, your mother had it tucked away safely in her room. you never met your father, you were told he died when you were a baby. but then you got a sweet sixteen card in the mail, and then there was no record of a deceased john routledge, and then, a week ago, his face is all over your television screen alongside a brother you never knew you had.

you pop the back off of the compass, revealing the hidden compartment not many people knew existed and taking a small, folded note from inside.

"hey, ducky. been a while since i wrote, you know what mom is like. listen, duck, we haven't been entirely honest with you, your mom and i. if you're okay with it, there's someone i'd like you to meet." you read out the note, voice shaky and hands trembling "he left an address at the bottom."

john b carefully takes the note from your hands, wiping away a stray tear thinking you hadn't seen it. he reads it, over and over "this is this address, my dads writing if he signed it dad that means.."

you nod, knowing whats racing through his head all too well "yeah" you sniffle, not exactly sure why you were crying.

"john b, you're my brother."

taglist!

@rainingcecilias

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 16

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..................................................

Ananya stared at the photo without blinking. Consciously trying to figure whether this was real or a cruel nightmare she’d wake up from any second.

When her phone flashed with Roma’s name, she knew she was living her nightmare. There was no escape.

‘Finally.’

Roma’s relieved voice came from the speaker, while Ananya’s eyes were still glued to the photo.

‘Say something girl. Please.’

There was no point asking if Ananya had seen the article and the photos, and that one photo in particular. The deafening eerie silence at the other end was confirmation enough.

‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’

Roma started pacing around her boyfriend’s living room. This is exactly what she was worried about. That her friend would somehow find a way to take it upon herself, instead of being raving mad at that fucker. 

‘No babe, don’t do that to yourself.’

‘Well she is. Very beautiful.’

‘I DON’T FUCKING CARE how she looks or who she is. This is not about her.’

Ananya shook her head ruefully, and spoke in a small, faraway voice.

‘She is just his type.’

Roma wanted to throw her phone at the wall. And Jude out of the window.

Guilt was hitting her in truckloads. And she cursed the moment when she had encouraged Ananya to give this relationship a shot. Moments rather, coz there had been many. She had been #TeamJude every step of the way. Look where it got her friend.

But this wasn’t the time to have her own meltdown. She needed to be strong for Ananya, whose voice & state she was struggling to read presently. Getting her to talk was crucial.

‘Has he called? Has he tried to explain?’

‘He hasn’t called since he left Madrid last weekend. And what’s left to explain in this?’

The article stated specifically that the images had not been tampered with, they had the original & had verified it. There were two eyewitness accounts confirming it too. Who further added that the ‘couple’ were ‘cozy’ and ‘inseparable’ all night. Other than the lip-lock photo, there were a few others of them sitting close to each other in a small group, smiling, having drinks, giggling. The over-familiarity all too visible. This was more than the usual Jude friendliness, no one could convince Ananya otherwise. Not even Jude.

There was nothing left to clarify. Maybe he didn’t even feel the need to. The fact that there wasn’t even a peep from him yet was maybe his way of sending a message. That whatever ‘arrangement’ they had, it was over. 

Roma had no logical counter to this, but some instinct was telling her to hear Jude’s side of the story. That is, if he had a side to share and if he had any interest in sharing it. Sadly, Ananya’s reading of it was very much a possibility. Roma had to admit that Jude was capable of it. He moved on quickly from his arrangements, without much care for who or what was left behind. Somehow though, she was convinced that he was different with Ananya. Their interactions over the last 2 months further solidified her belief that Jude genuinely cared for Ananya. How could both of them read him so wrong? Something about it was not sitting right, but the lip-lock photo was staring her in the face. How could she deny that? How could she give any false hope to her friend, when she had already caused her so much pain?

Her friend may not have been showing that pain explicitly, but Roma knew Ananya was falling back on the veneer of logic & practicality in order to hide her vulnerability & heartbreak. The shield was up, guarding her from further hurt.

‘Why didn’t you stop me, Roma? These silly fairytales never work, they always end this way. Why didn’t you tell me he was out of my league?’

‘He is not out of your league. YOU ARE OUT OF HIS LEAGUE. If all he wants to do is fuck those dumb bimbos who run after him 24*7 then to hell with him.’

‘See, you’re doing it again.’

‘I am telling you PLAIN FACTS ANANYA. He was not the catch in this one, YOU ARE.’

Ananya laughed a deeply broken laugh. And Roma wished if she could somehow teleport and be with her friend right now. Her being all alone in that apartment and in Madrid had come at the worst time.

‘He could have at least told me himself. I deserved that much, no?’

Roma fought the urge to curse the living daylights out of that bastard. But something was telling her that despite all this, Ananya still won’t like that.

‘You deserved a lot more. You deserve a lot better than that asshole.’

‘I…wait what time is it in the US right now? Must be way past midnight right?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Go to sleep, Roma.’

‘Rubbish. Talk to me. I’m not leaving you alone.’

‘Actually I kinda want to be alone. You know that’s how I process things.’

‘But…’

‘I’d be here when you wake up. Won’t do something stupid, if that’s what you are worried about.’

‘I don’t like how put together you sound.’

Ananya laughed that distant laugh again. It sounded so bitter and unpleasant to Roma, she never wanted to hear that sound again.

‘Want me to bawl my eyes out? That would be a natural & healthy reaction?’

‘Yes. That’s how I’d know it has hit you.’

Roma responded without missing a beat. She knew Ananya had this internal way of dealing with things but even then this felt messed up.

Ananya didn’t know how to articulate to her friend anymore. The tears were just not coming. The absolute sense of distraughtness and betrayal she should feel right now was just not happening. Maybe, maybe, a part of her always knew this would happen & was prepared for this? Maybe that’s why she was being able to disassociate herself from the situation and look at it so dispassionately?

‘Go to sleep Roma. You’ve been up all night. And remember - don’t contact him at all. No message, no call, just nothing. Don’t say anything to him. Maybe he’s even blocked us by now.’

It was part of his modus operandi. Ananya won’t be surprised.

Roma could see what Ananya was doing. The hurt was making her think of the worst and be prepared for it so even if that happens it doesn’t hurt her further. And Roma couldn’t blame her for acting this way. Because the pictures were damning, as were the eyewitness accounts.

She hated herself for pushing Ananya into his arms. The first date, her hesitation before she slept with him, all of that was dancing in Roma’s head, making her feel responsible for the hot mess her friend was in. Despite being aware of her emotionally fragile state and baggage from her previous relationship, Roma had still urged her to give it a go. Because she herself would have given it a go. But Roma should have thought of what was best for Ananya and not how she would respond to such a situation. She had failed as a friend, and Ananya was paying the worst possible price.

‘I’m so sorry babe. I really am.’

‘Stop that right now. You didn’t know him.’

‘I should have known.’

‘Hindsight is a bitch, ok? And guess what - I actually did know this is how he was. Because he told me. In his own words. With examples. But I still somehow convinced myself that I’d be the girl he’d change himself for. How delusional of me. Men like that don’t change, not really, I should have known. If anything, it’s my fault for still going ahead with it despite knowing everything about him.’

‘How about saying IT’S HIS FAULT? Coz that’s the only fucking thing that’s absolutely undeniable.’

‘Sure.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Look we can say whatever. But he’s not the one getting hurt. Maybe he’s still with…with her….right now. Having the time of his life. The only one responsible for my decisions is me. Can’t expect anyone else to make those calls or hold my hand through those. Especially when I knew everything about him. So you can say whatever and blame whoever but it was my decision and I have to live with it. That’s how it is in life. Ultimately you are on your own.’

‘You’re scaring the shit out of me Ananya. You’re not sounding ok.’

‘Actually I’m quite ok. Thinking clearly & straight. Maybe should have done that earlier but it is what it is. Now go, we’ll speak in a few hours. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl, I can handle this.’

Roma had no doubt that Ananya was strong when she needed to be. But there is a time to be strong and a time to have a complete meltdown. She should be having a meltdown right now and not vice versa. But, the best Roma could do in this situation was to be there in whatever approach her friend took. 

‘I know you can. I know you will. Talk to you in a few hours, yeah?’

‘Yes. Bye.’

‘Bye babe.’

When Ananya hung up, she didn’t know what to do with herself the next second. Looking at her phone anymore made her pukish. Staying away from it made her anxious. Watching something on OTT or just lying in bed made her dizzy. 

Other than Roma, no one else close to her knew about Jude. And she didn’t want to bother her friend beyond a point either. Roma was meeting Chris after 6 long months and it was Christmas for crying out loud. Why ruin it for others just because her life was fucked up right now.

There was no one else to talk to. Which, in hindsight, was a silver lining. No one else would know what a royal fool she had made of herself. She could almost picture her cousin scoffing at her for trying to be in a ‘relationship’ with a playboy footballer who claimed to want to change for her. That only happened in rom-coms, not in real life. Thing is, she knew that. Very well. But still could not resist him. Solely her fault.

The face of that girl kept flashing in front of her eyes - Ananya couldn’t get her out of her head. 

Then she did something she wasn’t proud of. That she absolutely should not have done. In a weak moment, she found that girl’s Insta and went through her pics.

She was stunningly beautiful. Perfect features. Perfect figure. Perfect hair. Perfect style. Gorgeous from head to toe. The kind of girl who would look perfect on Jude’s arm. The kind of girl Jude would want to show off to the world. Definitely the kind of girl he’d love to take to bed. Given their history and the fact they were on/off for ~2 years or so, they would have explored pretty much everything intimate together. She would have satisfied Jude in ways Ananya couldn’t even imagine.

It made sense for Jude to want to be with her. To go back to her. It was logical. 

Why was it making Ananya’s head spin then? 

She couldn’t be alone with her thoughts, not right now. Even roaming the streets in this chilly winter morning was an acceptable alternative. At least it would numb her, in more ways than one. And she set out to do just that.

Unaware of the absolute carnage he had caused, Jude was passed out in his bed. His team had obviously seen the article and images, as had his parents. The strategy was going to be no comment, as always; it would die down in a few days or a few weeks, as was the norm.

Denise knew Jude had returned in the early hours of the morning and no good would come from speaking to him at this time. So no one had bothered to wake him up. His phone was burning up with messages from friends and teammates, but he was too deep in his drunken stupor.

No one in his close circle knew why this would be catastrophic for Jude or unlike any previous tabloid pieces on him. No one other than Jobe.

When Jobe woke up around 9:30 am, from the constant notifications, he stared at his phone in disbelief. Then, he ran to Jude.

Not bothering to knock or anything, he breezed past his brother’s bedroom door to find him face down on the bed. Drooling in his sleep. The clothes & shoes from last night thrown around the room. 

Jobe shook his arm. No response.

Then he shook him harder. Jude whined loudly.

‘Go away.’

‘Stop being a brat & wake the fuck up. Right now.’

That got Jude’s attention. Because Jobe rarely took that tone with him.

Rubbing his eyes, still half disoriented, he sat up on the bed.

‘What is it?’

Jobe just threw his phone in Jude’s lap.

And the colour drained from Jude’s face. In real time. 

Frozen, wide-eyed, he stared at the photo on the screen. A million thoughts scrambling in his head yet not a single coherent one coming out.

‘Shit. No no no GOD NO.’

Jude looked up desperately at his brother, who was looking back intently with his arms crossed, trying to get a read on him.

‘See the rest of it.’

Jobe said plainly; his tone cutting through Jude’s mumbling sounds.

When Jude did, he almost wished he hadn’t. Every image, every caption more damning than the other. He could see what it looked like. And nothing was as stark as that ‘lip-lock’ thing.

The denial and shock made way to sudden rage at this massive invasion of privacy.

‘It was a fucking private club that charged buttloads for being so. Who the fuck even took these?’

‘So it’s true then?’

Jobe’s posture was neutral, but Jude saw the irritation in his tone.

‘NO. I mean, not all of it. Its….its not what it looks like.’

‘Cut the bullshit & tell me straight. Did something happen with her last night?’

Shoulders dropped in defeat, Jude covered his face with both his hands. Jobe knew him the best. And if even he had to ask this, what hope could he have with her?

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

Jude whispered, almost to himself, swaying from side to side.

Jobe eyed him for a few moments. It didn’t feel like his brother was lying, but he was guilty about something. 

‘How would I get her to believe me, Jobe?’

He was still hiding beneath his hands. Hoping for this new reality to just vanish.

‘Do you want to?’

Jude grabbed his hand and pulled his brother down to sit close to him. Then, he flung himself at Jobe and Jobe’s arms came around his shoulders, hugging him back.

‘Please, not you too. You gotta believe me, please.’

‘I’m not the one you need to convince bro.’

Jude looked up at him then, with such hope & nerves that it tugged at Jobe’s heart.

‘I need to know this. Do you believe me?’

A long pause.

‘Yes.’

Jude went back into Jobe’s arms, as the younger boy patted his brother’s back gently.

‘Talk to her. Tell her everything.’

Jobe hadn’t understood what the ‘everything’ was but looking at Jude, he could tell there was more than meets the eye. His brother seemed to have fucked up somehow, just not as much as it looked like.

Jude kept his head buried in Jobe’s chest. He couldn’t seem to catch a break. This couldn’t have come at a worst time. Just when she was starting to….

‘Can you check my phone? See if there’s anything from her?’

He was too anxious to check himself, like there was some finality to it.

‘There’s nothing.’

Somehow, that was even worse.

‘Maybe she hasn’t seen it yet. It’s what, 11 am in Madrid?'

‘She has. I can feel that she has.’

‘Call her then.’

Jude’s fingers hovered over the call button, and finally Jobe clicked it for him.

It rang once. No response. They tried again. No response. One more time. Same result.

‘She’s got a roommate no? Call her maybe?’

Jude knew that if they had talked, then he won’t get a different response from Roma. He’d probably get a worse response in fact. 

But he was desperate. So he tried it. Two full rings, nothing. 

Then it hit him. During one of the movie nights at Ananya’s place, Roma had mentioned about her Christmas plans. One quick look at her Insta and Jude knew she was back in the US. She had been there all week.

So Ananya was alone in Madrid? All this week? That sucked big time. And he didn’t even realise that. Until now.

He looked at Jobe in despair.

‘Text her. Leave her a voice note. You can’t not do anything.’

When Jude opened his chat window with her, he realised that was all he had done all week. Just texts & voice notes. Brief. Hurried. But there was no time to kick himself. Time was of utmost essence right now.

‘Trying to reach you, dove. Pls call me back.’

Then he went back to staring at his phone, willing her to respond, while Jobe walked around the room, thinking what else could be done here.

One full hour passed. And Jude’s heart sank further with each minute.

Meanwhile, Ananya was taking a long walk on the Madrid streets in the mind-numbing cold. When the chill got too much to handle, she went to a nearby mall and sat at a coffee shop. Initially, the hustle & bustle around her was a welcome distraction. But soon it became unbearable. Happy families, cheerful friends and loving couples. While she didn’t have anyone right now. Their happiness was mocking her. So she took the long walk back home, delaying reaching that place to the extent possible.

Once inside, where she could feel her fingers again, she pulled out her phone & found 3 missed calls + three messages from her supposed boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Yeah right.

She read the first message and scoffed at the nick-name.

The next one had come 15 mins after the first.

‘Missing you. Pls talk to me.’

She scoffed harder at the ‘missing’ part. Last week was surely a unique way of missing her. She looked at the last message finally.

‘Baby I’m worried now. Need to hear your voice.’

This charade needed to end. She needed to rip off this band-aid. Maybe it would even give her some clarity?

Ananya stood in front of the mirror and took a long hard look at herself. She still hadn’t cried yet. Not a single tear. She didn’t know why. 

Maybe because she had been an emotional wreck in her last relationship. So much that she couldn’t even recognise herself at times. That had not done anyone any good. She had vowed to be different in this one. To be the voice of reason & logic, not some sobbing little sap. 

Was it really not normal? Was Roma right? She didn’t know, but at least this steeled up state put her in a decent space to talk to him and get it over with. To see what kind of story he would concoct. At least she won’t be a mess in front of him. She won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking her.

Just then, her phone flashed with a video call from Jude. She disconnected it & dialled him on audio. Jude nearly dropped the phone when she called back - with relief and with nerves.

‘Oh thank god. I was starting to get worried.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Let me see you, dove? Let’s face-time?’

‘I think this is fine.’

Awkward silence ensued. Ananya had no intention of helping him or giving him any segue. The least he could do was man up and have the balls to admit what he did. She waited for him to get there.

Her aloofness was confirmation enough. She had seen everything. Read everything. Suddenly Jude was at a loss for words. So he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

And there it was. 

‘The photos are doctored?’

‘No, but..’

‘The kiss didn’t happen?

‘It did, but…’

‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘WHAT?’

‘What part of that did you not understand? Did you spend last night with her? Are you still in her bed or on your way back?’

The sheer lack of emotion in her tone made her sound so cold. Distant. It hit him like a whiplash. 

Jude had heard a similar voice before, when the earlier tabloid piece had come out. But this was 10x of that. This was his Ananya but not really. It’s like she had locked her emotions away, only letting her brain come to the fore. 

‘I’m home, babe.’

‘Oh. Didn’t have a morning tumble then? Thought you really liked those.’

Jude shut his eyes tightly, and ran his spare hand through his hair. Absolutely losing handle on the conversation. 

‘Please I’m begging you pls just hear me out ONCE. Please.’

He heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end. A decision had been reached.

‘Fine.’

‘We bumped into each other at a private club yesterday. Hadn’t seen each other in over 2 years so just got talking. Remember, we were friends before we started dating, yeah? She was mostly talking about football and how great it was to see my journey. Then we spoke about some school mates and what they were up to right now. Shared a laugh or two about them. That’s what you see in the other photos. It wasn’t some personal conversation about her & I or our time together. We didn’t go there, I swear.’

‘And yet you magically kissed after that? How amusing.’

Jude sighed deeply. This next part would be a lot harder to navigate, he knew that already.

‘We were drunk. Out of our wits. The lads wanted to go to another club so when we were pushing off, I leaned in to greet her and….kiss her goodbye….on her cheek. In hindsight should not have done that either but hindsight is a bitch. She….she turned her face at the last moment and…it turned into a proper kiss. But I swear I pulled away immediately.’

Ananya laughed that bitter laugh, the one Roma had heard a few hours ago. It turned Jude’s hands cold.

‘So she came on to you? That’s the line you’re taking?’

‘Well that or she was drunk & it was an accident for her too.’

‘I see. Which one do you think it was? Accident or she wanted to kiss you?’

The cold hands suddenly were clammy now.

‘I…I don’t know.’

“Do me a favour & take a guess.’

He knew she could sense the guilt in his voice, hence was doubling down. In a different situation he was capable of straight up lying & getting away. But with her he just couldn’t. 

‘I-I think I may have… led her on. It may have looked more to her than what it was.’

Zero response from the other end. Just the sound of her breathing. He took it as a cue to continue.

‘Given our history…and familiarity…our proximity may have given her the impression that I was….interested.’

‘That, and the coziness and the inseparability, yeah?’

‘Don’t believe the tabloid captions, babe. You know what they are like.’

‘I’m gonna believe my eyes. I saw how you were with her. In every photo, not just THAT one.’

‘I swear I didn’t…’

She cut him off, having heard enough of his swears.

‘Why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why didn’t I hear this from you?’

‘It was late. I was drunk. Wasn’t thinking straight. Was still trying to understand what the fuck just happened.’

‘And you didn’t know there was going to be any evidence of it.’

Long pregnant pause. Then a small choked voice.

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm. So your intentions were all holy & pure but she misunderstood them somehow and came on to you and kissed you. And it only happened ONCE but somehow in just that ONE moment there was someone to capture that clear photo. Then you went your separate ways yet you didn’t bother to tell your current girlfriend that this gigantic thing happened with your ex-girlfriend. And now you feel you may have led her on inadvertently. That sums it up?’

‘I know how it sounds. I know how it would have looked to you but baby please trust me I didn’t want anything with her. Not for a second.’

‘So you say.’

‘My friends were with me all night. I can get any of them to talk to you.’

‘As if they haven’t lied for you or covered for you before.’

They had. Many times. Jude had no counter to this.

His desperation was at its peak now. He could feel her slipping away. Rapidly.

‘You know what you mean to me. In your heart you know how precious you are to me. Why would I intentionally do anything to screw that up?’

She scoffed so derisively it cut through his soul.

‘Precious? Sure. That’s why you forgot about me all week, as soon as I was out of sight. And someone else was in sight.’

That was one thought Ananya couldn’t shake. That it wasn’t the only time they had met. Maybe the reason he was so MIA this week was because of that girl.

Jude was distraught. She was landing punch after punch. Every word piercing, laden with truth. And he had no defence to any of it.

‘Why are you talking to me like this? Like you don’t…care anymore. Like it doesn’t matter anymore. Like you’ve already decided I’m guilty and…and…whatever I say makes no difference.’

She refused to humour that with a response. It was self-explanatory according to her.

‘Don’t do this. Please I’m scared. Don’t pull away like this. I don’t know what to do, dove. You know me. You’ve always understood me. Pls one more time, pls try to understand.’

Understanding him was all she had done since she met him. His ways, his lifestyle, his schedules, his highs & lows, his moods, his past. 

But not only had he made a mickey out of her feelings, he was also insulting her intelligence now by cooking up this convenient story. That was a double whammy she refused to take.

Her silence was making his pulse go a million miles per second.

He needed her back, right fucking now.

‘Look, once I am back there in a few days it will be fine, ok? We’ll meet and we’ll be together and you’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.’

She had no interest in being subjected to his seductive charm or manipulative ways again. Just so he could reel her back in.

‘I won’t be here when you return.’

‘Wh-what does that mean?’

‘I have moved up my trip to India, leaving in 2 days.’

‘Whyy? When did you…when are you back?’

‘Don’t know yet.’

‘What about work?’

‘Work from home is allowed under special circumstances. I’ll think of something.’

‘So you’re just going to walk out?’

‘Some distance wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Distance from me?’

‘From everything. But yes, mostly from you.’

That was a bodyblow which made him nearly tumble over in pain and hurt. Disorienting him to the point he didn’t know what he was saying anymore.

‘So you’ll run at the first sign of trouble? Not gonna fight for us? I thought you hated your ex for doing that.’

Boy, was that a low blow. She was fuming. If he were near she could have strangled him with her bare hands. After everything he had done, everything they had been through, every time she had given him the benefit of the doubt, the bastard had the audacity to say first sign of trouble? ‘First’? Like it was her fault they were in this mess. Like she was the one who had cheated. 

But why was she surprised? Jude was like any other man, clearly. It was always the girl’s fault. Always.

She won’t give him the satisfaction to get a reaction out of her anymore. He didn’t even deserve her anger.

After a few deep breaths and the burning sting of her nails in her thighs, she recovered.

‘You’re right. I’m the one to blame here.’

‘Can you GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTE and talk like a real person? A person with feelings other than sarcasm?’

Her patience reached its limits. 

‘I think we’ve hurt each other enough, yeah? Let’s call it a day.’

‘Are you for real right now?’

‘Are you?’

‘Waittt. Please wait. Pls this can’t be happening. It’s ME. It’s US. How could you walk away from us?’

‘Bye Jude.’

‘NO. NO. Dove please just…’

Her resolve was fast breaking, as was her voice. Despite everything, she couldn’t see him in pain. Not like this.

‘Have a good…good one Jude.’

With that, she hung up.

And all the pent up emotion came flooding out of her eyes.

She cried and cried, falling face down on the bed, clutching the phone to her chest, trying to remember the sound of his voice, because maybe, maybe, this was the last time she had heard it.

Every inch of this house was filled with his memories.

The dining table was where they had their first kiss. The couch had been the place for endless cuddles, cozy dinners and movie nights. The kitchen is where he usually followed her into, as she tried to wrap up some chores or fix them a snack. 

Her bedroom was the worst. So many nights cuddled up together, when he came to her post matches or out of city travels. Their first time had also happened here. The desk, the walls just reminded her of the countless times he had backed her against those.

The place smelled of him. She could almost see his face anywhere she looked.

And she ran. To the first decent escape she could find - a movie hall. A random Spanish language movie was playing, but at least she wasn’t in a place that felt like a graveyard of his memories.

She had sworn to herself to not break this time. No, she will be strong through all this. She will not be a weeping mess. She will not let her heart knock her down, not again.

She had been through this once, she was equipped to handle this.

Jude, on the other hand, had no idea what hit him.

This kind of pain he was not familiar with. When you have no control over your life, and your happiness / sanity is entirely in another person’s hands. The sheer helplessness of it completely caught him off guard.

Why did it have to happen now? Just when he was truly giving it a shot. When she was starting to open up to him. Why now?

He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened, given how quickly things transpired and boiled up.

Jobe came to check on him a few minutes later and found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. He was quiet, far too quiet for Jobe’s liking.

He sat down next to his big brother, and put an arm around his shoulder. Jude leaned into his touch immediately, leaving his body loose against Jobe’s.

‘Didn’t go well?’

Jobe asked softly.

‘It was horrible. Nasty.’

Jude managed to utter, almost mumbling to himself.

‘Tell me what happened.’

Jude gave a summary and Jobe sighed through it. Once done, Jude looked at his little brother for some suggestion. Or some words of comfort. Or both.

But Jobe’s face was telling him what he needed to know. What he knew already.

‘It’s fucked up, isn’t it?’

‘It is bad bro, not gonna lie. But, maybe, give her some time and it’d get better?’

Jude kept shaking his head, staring into a void.

Ten mins passed by and Jude sat like that. Without saying another word. Just leaning into Jobe.

This was new territory for Jobe as well. He had seen Jude through a ton of lows, mostly professional, but Jude took those to heart as well so they turned personal for him.

But the thing with Jude was, he was always expressive. Emotional. Animated. Wearing his heart on his sleeve. Whether he was angry or upset or sad he would still express his emotion passionately.

It was very rare for Jude to get this quiet. The last time he’d been like this was when Dortmund lost the league on the last match-day. Jobe could tell how dire this was for him.

He pulled out his phone slowly and opened his chat window with Ananya. The pair had actually exchanged a few messages this week. Random stuff - books, shows etc. 

But what could he say to her? Was it his place to intervene? He had only met her like 9 days ago. Only spent a few hours with her. Would it make things worse if he says anything?

Something in his gut was telling him to still do it, and Jobe believed in following his instinct.

‘Hey. Hope you’re doing ok.’

A few seconds later, he could see her typing back.

‘Hey.’

‘I’m sorry for butting in, I really am, but for what it’s worth I don’t think he’s lying.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I’ve never seen him like this. Ever.’

‘Were you with him last night?’

‘No.’

‘Then you can’t say for sure.’

‘I know it. I can tell.’

‘You love him, Jobe. He’s your brother. I get it that you’d believe him. But I hope you can see why I can’t.’

Jobe didn’t know what to say beyond this. The writing was on the wall. Loud & clear. 

Jude was still zonked out. This had gone beyond Jobe’s handling power. He needed the big gun here.

Denise got Jobe’s message and came into the room, finding both her boys sitting on the floor. Air filled with doom & gloom.

Alarmed, she rushed to them and Jobe stood up, letting Denise take his place next to Jude. 

Jude immediately melted in Denise’s arms, placing his head on her lap.

She patted him gently, rocking him a little while Jobe filled her in about Ananya. 

Denise wasn’t surprised; she had known all along something was different with Jude last few weeks. She had even hinted it to him once or twice but eventually let it be, thinking he’d come tell her when he’s ready. If he’s ready. But she didn’t know it was something deep. Something this deep.

Jude’s face and silence was telling her all she needed to know. About how much that girl meant to her boy.

She ran her hand through his hair, and stroked his shoulder with the other hand. Jude sighed in her lap, near tears. The moment reminded her of how Jude had cried while leaving Birmingham City 3.5 years also. Even then he had been on the floor, while she tried to console her 17 year old who was moving away from home forever.

‘Do you want to make this right, Jude?’

Her tone was loving, but not overly so. Because she knew how heartbroken that girl would be at the other end, far worse than her son. And her son needed to learn that actions have consequences, especially in matters of the heart.

Jude whimpered out a response.

‘Ofcourse, mum. I need her. What do I do?’

‘If you truly want to be with her, then you’d know what to do. Think what she would want you to do right now.’

And instantly, it hit Jude.

Ananya returned late in the evening, and was just taking off her coat, when she heard her doorbell.

Thinking it must be some neighbourhood folks coming to offer her Christmas pudding, AGAIN, she dragged herself to the door.

And found him on the other side. The man of her dreams. The cause of her nightmares. Jude fucking Bellingham was standing at her door, with a bouquet of white tulips in his hand.

...........................................................................................

There you go.

I broke the original idea of the chapter into two - Ch 16 and 17.

Else it was becoming a very long & emotionally draining one chapter.

This should give you more clarity.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / messages.

[divierses]

SPEEDY SUMMERS, rafe cameron | 02

social media & irl au <pt.1 pt.2 pt.3>

pairing rafe cameron x f1driver!reader summary after spending years all over the world racing in the world's greatest motorsports championship; you find yourself needing a break from the tiring world of formula one, so after the 2024 season, you return to your hometown for the offseason.

authors note hello againn! part two is here !! if anyone wants ill make a taglist so if u do lmk and ill add u! not much more to say here rn but i hope u like it!

POGUES + YN

Y/N

where yall at gang

im over here looking clueless as frick

KIE BABY 💗

OF COURSE these dumbasses lost u

JAYJ 😈🔥

WE DIDNT LOSE HER

just temporarily misplaced

Y/N

omg this liar.. kie baby u believe me right 🥺🥺

KIE BABY 💗

yes always baby 😖💗

JOHNNY BOY

alright bucko pack it up

fr though yn what do you see

Y/N

uh uhhhmmmm i see a drug deal happening ??

yeah a drug deal for sure

i should cop some for myself actually

CLEOO 🫡

girl be more specific

or atleast describe something useful 😭😭

JOHNNY BOY

and do not aqquire drugs u will get kicked out of f1

POPE !!

bro only cares bc u fund his cost of living

Y/N

well one guy got dark hair and he wearing a wife beater

the other has a buzz and lowk he fine

SARAH

GIRL

my brother and barry 😭😭😭

JAYJ 😈🔥

ik u did not just call him fine

Y/N

which one did i call fine barry or her brother

JOHNNY BOY nicknamed Y/N “HORRIBLE TRAITOR”

HORRIBLE TRAITOR

alright asshole square up RN 👊👊

JOHNNY BOY

OK PULL UP RN. U WONT I DARE U.

SARAH

anyways

it was my brother u called fine

HORRIBLE TRAITOR

OH HECK NO… THE HATER…????

bye yall im boutta beat up sarahs brother

JAYJ 😈🔥

pls do we hate bro

POPE !!

pls DONT he will kill us

never listen to jj bc what

CLEOO 🫡

loud retweet

KIE BABY 💗

wait guys

enemies to lovers 🥺😍 awwwhhgt my baby sarah we gotta set them up

HORRIBLE TRAITOR

kiara the minute i find u….

SARAH

rest in peace kiara carrera

cause of death: shipped rafe and y/n

shutting off her phone, y/n looked around, trying to make out where her friends told her to look for. she saw a little dirt path and figured she may as well follow it and hope it led her to the beach where the others were. making her way down the path, she saw a convenience store and decided it was a good idea to pick up some drinks for the other pogues.

entering the store, y/n was immediately hit with a refreshing cool breeze. she looked around for the fridges for a minute or two and found them at the back of the store. she picked out some basic drinks and gently placed them into the green plastic basket she picked up when she first entered the store.

as she made her way to the checkout counter, y/n felt a pair of eyes watching her. she turned around to see what was a young girl, around twelve or thirteen, with dark hair and glasses. she was just looking at her. staring, even. awkwardly, y/n gave her a smile and turned away when the girl called out to her.

“um excuse me? i’m sorry to bother but i’m a big fan, would you mind if we took a photo together?” the young girl spoke.

turning back around, y/n replied. “yeah of course, kid. what’s your name?”

“wheezie!” the girl replied after she took a couple selfies with the formula one driver.

“oh you’re sarah’s sister! well then, i’ll see you around, wheezie. thanks for your support!” she told the girl and then walked away to the cashier’s counter.

after paying for the drinks she bought, y/n finally found the beach everyone was at. she walked down to the spot where cleo and sarah were sitting and offered them a drink from the bag.

“girl you just saved my life, this heat killing me” cleo thanked her as she took out a bottle from inside the shopping bag.

“by the way, sarah, i saw your sister at a convenience store. shes adorable, asked me for a photo and said she was a big fan” she explained her encounter to the blonde girl sitting across from her.

“dude you don’t get it shes such a fangirl, like she and rafe always fight whenever theres a race happening. every time it’s you and the other guy rafe supports they go crazy” sarah told her as pope came back from what seemed like a large circle of people yelling at eachother.

pope explained to the girls as he walked them over to the group how topper’s girlfriend, ruthie, ran over a turtle hatch and killed some of the baby turtles. y/n watched as kiara yelled at ruthie and topper, while a bunch of other kooks stood in the back. she recognized one as the same guy from the drug deal she saw earlier, rafe, was it? sarah’s brother. he didn’t seem too pleased with the situation, she could tell by the fact that he distanced himself so far away and didn’t attempt to aid topper in the argument. eventually, the situation died down after jj yelled at the kooks to stay away from them.

“yall got some truly interesting people down here, huh?” y/n spoke, trying to diffuse the tension.

“yeah, swear almost all those damn kooks smoke shit for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” her brother responded.

liked by kiaracarrera, rafecameron, pierregasly, and 340k others

ynroutledge missing f1 and those turtles :/

tagged: kiaracarrera, sarahcameron, jbroutledge

comments…

user1 caption??? what does it mean??

>kiaracarrera a hoe named ruthie ran over a turtle hatch 😞

user2 day 15 without f1 i am slowly turning into the dutch flag

>maxverstappen1 i agree with this statement 👍👍

>>ynroutledge double thumbs up wow he really agrees

jjmaybank those kooks dude..

comment liked by creator!

rafecameron missing f1 is crazy when you drive for rb. next year is mercedes’ year.

>ynroutledge boy why are you in my comments

>>landonorris always “mercedes this” and “redbull that” WHAT ABOUT MCLAREN

>>>ynroutledge …

>>>>rafecameron …

danielricciardo its okay you can stay there and mourn the turtles ❤️ i will keep your seat warm for the season

>ynroutledge please do not warm my seat in any way ??? 😭😭

RAFECAMERON sent you a message.

[postcardsfromheapside]

I need to be salty for a hot second about people who are upset about aspects of Lucanis' romance.

I'll put everything else under the break for spoilers, but in general, I am so disappointed in a large portion of this fanbase who apparently thought "disaster" meant "romantasy," but also it's in keeping with how a lot of people seem unable to put things in context.

One of the complaints I keep seeing run past is that the scene where you commit to a relationship with Lucanis seems pefunctory, or out of the blue, there's nothing really romantic about it, it's too similar to the platonic route, etc, etc, ETC.

I romanced Emmrich, but I've seen other people's versions of romancing Lucanis. I'm just going to kind of word vomit here, and hope I can come up with something cohesive.

As someone who id's with Lucanis for "generational abuse" and "dumpster fire disaster bi" and "using socially acceptable drugs as coping mechanisms in place of addressing your problems" reasons, it's been really fucking annoying watching the almost deliberate misinterpretation of his character even after Mary Kirby dropped several explanations on social media. It's like a large part of the fanbase saw all that and turned into the "yes yes, very sad...anyway!" meme and went right on fetishizing him...then got mad when he didn't turn into the seductive Dom with wings they were hoping for.

You commit to Lucanis after (what I consider) a very intense scene inside his "mind prison." He's struggling so much internally that Spite wrests control of his body from him in front of witnesses and begs Rook to help them. Lucanis would never ask Rook to do so on his own, he's terrible at asking for the help he truly needs. Spite drags Rook into the Fade Ossuary and demands they free Lucanis from his self-imposed prison. And whether you're a friend or would-be lover, Rook slowly talks Lucanis out of a host of self doubts regarding his family and friends. Can he trust himself not to hurt other people, now that he's saddled with this affliction? Has he disappointed the people he cares about most? Do these new people he's coming to care about actually trust and care about him? The rooms are filled with fragmented thoughts that peter out into regrets. You're literally seeing Lucanis' fractured and complicated emotions.

One of them tore a hole straight through me: "You'd have to kill me...And Spite would die."

You'd have to kill him to get rid of the demon. And he'd regret the death of the demon that's protected him and given him strength, through a brutal year of betrayal and torment. I don't know if y'all remember the scenes in the Ossuary of the failed experiments and the corpses you had to pass to get to his jar of blood. It wasn't fun.

When you break out of the mind prison after helping him bond with Spite, it's intimate and momentous, even on a platonic route. You've seen desperate and lonely parts of him he'd never willingly show anyone.

As you're convincing Lucanis that it's okay to leave his mind-prison, you tell him you understand that it's easier to deal with problems like the Ossuary and Zara than healing and living with Spite, potentially hurting people he cares about. But he wants to. It's Rook's job to help him see a path out, a way for him to make the struggle easier so he can begin to heal himself.

I need to stress: you aren't "fixing" him. You're acting as his lighthouse, regardless of whether you're a friend or a lover. Sometimes people need help. He's still going to have to do the work to get there.

As a friend, it was extremely rewarding to come back to the kitchen and see him doing exactly as I'd hoped: moving on with the business of *living*. He made a nice dinner for everyone he's come to care for, and a special dessert for Neve. Cooking is where Lucanis finds creativity, and comfort, and connection with his friends and family. He isn't very good with words, but he will note everything you consume, and try to make you feel loved by expressing it that way.

Which is why I think it's important you don't dismiss the commitment on the romantic route. He remembers YOUR favorite drink and makes YOU a special dessert if you're romancing him. Lucanis isn't going to get poetic. You've already made him feel raw. You've seen the ugly, embarassing parts of him. What is he supposed to say? Usually it takes Spite reaching through his body to actually be direct. Instead, Lucanis reaches for food, his favorite medium, to try and apologize for inadvertently showing you those things, to thank you for helping him despite seeing what he considers the most shameful parts of him. Your commitment is letting him know that you value him, that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that you understand what he's trying to express with his struggling communication skills, which appear to get better as your relationship progresses from there.

It's weird that some of y'all don't feel that this is heartfelt and important, because you'd rather him act out some sensuous fantasy trope. It's also weird that some of you haven't figured out that many scenes in RPG's can be similar on platonic and romantic routes with tweaks to shade context.

(Also just in case this comes up: cooking is not his "love language" - that whole concept was invented by a misogynistic weirdo and we should remove it from our ideas of communication)

Anyway, this guy is my Rook's bestie and I'll go down swinging for him, you should appreciate the fuck out of him and stop acting like his writer didn't craft a perfectly funny little weirdo who is bad at showing people his tender parts and terrible at interpersonal relationships.