#there's a part of me that's like. back in august i didn't even know what html and css were and now i'm creating whole ass pages with them

[jayswing101]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

Girl help I don't understand my homework

[remlionheart]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

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Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

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You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

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The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

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[babybluebex]

venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF ? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count). 

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!” 

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one. 

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.” 

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?” 

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.” 

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention. 

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed. 

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?” 

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.” 

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head. 

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation. 

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.” 

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.” 

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?” 

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.” 

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.” 

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.” 

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.” 

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?” 

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…” 

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.” 

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?” 

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene. 

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”  

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm. 

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up. 

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out. 

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others. 

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy. 

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over. 

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.” 

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.” 

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked. 

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?” 

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.” 

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too. 

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.” 

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?” 

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked. 

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.” 

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks. 

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him. 

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?” 

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?” 

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.” 

“Probably,” Angus said simply. 

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.” 

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” 

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.” 

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic. 

“No,” you told him. 

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next. 

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time. 

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.” 

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!” 

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked. 

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.” 

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.” 

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.” 

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged. 

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.” 

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.” 

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.” 

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say? 

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes. 

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that. 

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?” 

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?” 

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?” 

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said. 

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same. 

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.” 

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.” 

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said. 

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?” 

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.” 

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked. 

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked. 

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.” 

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.” 

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him. 

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”    

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly. 

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up. 

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief. 

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?” 

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?” 

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.” 

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?” 

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.” 

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.” 

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone. 

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?” 

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.” 

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!” 

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said. 

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” 

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.” 

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.” 

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ. 

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class. 

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him. 

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.” 

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.” 

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school. 

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.” 

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged. 

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.” 

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas. 

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office. 

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.” 

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.” 

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.” 

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?” 

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.” 

You nodded silently. 

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.” 

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. 

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.” 

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.” 

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives. 

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone. 

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book. 

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room. 

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.” 

“Who?” you asked. 

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.” 

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.” 

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled. 

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.” 

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?” 

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?” 

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?” 

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.” 

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…” 

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!” 

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said. 

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?” 

“Anywhere but here!” 

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment. 

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open. 

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great. 

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath. 

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?” 

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap. 

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently. 

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.” 

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—” 

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.” 

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked. 

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?” 

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.” 

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.” 

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway. 

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?” 

“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.” 

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.” 

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.” 

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly. 

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.” 

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.” 

“Shut up,” you huffed. 

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?” 

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room. 

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline. 

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep. 

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway. 

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily. 

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.” 

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.” 

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.” 

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.” 

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.” 

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.” 

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.” 

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night. 

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked. 

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!” 

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked. 

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy—  I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?” 

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end. 

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!” 

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.” 

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.” 

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.” 

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked. 

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into— 

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.” 

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?” 

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled. 

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.” 

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled. 

“Guess so,” Angus echoed. 

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it. 

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours. 

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch. 

Accurate, you countered. 

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?” 

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!” 

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly. 

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement. 

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop. 

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.” 

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin. 

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.” 

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard. 

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone. 

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up. 

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.” 

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?” 

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.” 

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.” 

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus. 

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.” 

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”. 

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

[aashimaar]

kacchan of the bakugous' no good very bad year*

*(Its actually just over a year but sshhh!)

a non-exhaustive (and yet I am exhausted) timeline that asks the question: what if you got your world view rocked so hard and so frequently that it made you a better person?

Prologue: April

The Sludge Villain Incident: All the pro's compliment his bravery and invite him to be a sidekick for them someday but look at his face. He was rescued by quirkless Deku and All Might and he Can't. Accept it. ("Don't look down on me!!") Also his first real brush with death. Happy birthday! Somehow I don't think this was how he wanted to meet All Might, either.

And so one year later:

April

So we start with Deku vs Kacchan, wherein Kacchan has his mental rocked on the very first day of class when, even though he scored first in the entrance exam, his classmates are stronger than him and point out his mistakes, and he vows that this is the last time he'll be defeated.

Next is the USJ attack and oh shit's real now, this is the second time in two years he's been attacked by actual villains trying to kill him

Happy birthday!

May

Sports Festival, and he wins but it isn't a total victory like he wanted. He didn't win the race, or the calvary battle, and How can he prove to himself Deku All Might everyone that he's the best if his opponents refuse to go all out? Why did Todoroki only do that for Deku? Why wasn't he good enough to get his best effort??

June

Final exams and he gets the snot (and worse) beat out of him by All Might and Deku actually yells at him because for the first (and last) time in his life Katsuki says this:

July

Two Heroes, fighting villains again, what's going on with All Might?

and then...

Training camp/ getting kidnapped by the LOV, and if only he'd been stronger they wouldn't have taken him, and why the fuck does everyone think he should be a villain?!

Kamino Ward and All Might losing his powers and no, he would have gotten out on his own, Deku and Kirishima and Iida just happened to have been the best option at the time...

August

Failing the provisional license exam (falling behind his classmates again!)

September

Deku vs Kacchan 2: AKA “Don’t you dare worry about me! Attack me! Why won’t you fight back!? Why did I end up having to chase after someone who was always so far behind me!? Why did a damn small fry like you get strong, and become the number one hero’s sidekick – his favorite!? You got so much better! And I destroyed All Might! I admired him so much…but it’s because of me that he ended up losing his power! If I had been stronger…if I hadn’t been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened. All Might knows it was my fault but hasn’t said anything. Everyone has to know though! I can’t get it out of my head! It’s like it’s constantly playing on loop, so what the hell am I supposed to DO!?”

He and Izuku are proper rivals now. He learns the truth about One For All and starts helping Izuku to train his power. They get put on house arrest but it's worth it (right?)

Izuku and his other classmates take part in a raid of Shie Hassaikai (gotta catch up, can't fall behind). Katsuki starts remedial classes.

October

School festival. He overhears general studies students complaining about the hero course, is reluctant to join the band because it'll seem like a slap in the face from the hero course who caused their stress. "Stop trying to get on their good side! We're not here to make friends! We're here to fight! If we're gonna put on a show then we can't hold anything back! Let's murder everyone at UA with killer music!" Katsuki joins the band. (AKA Katsuki's survivor's guilt about Kamino is redirected through the power of friendship.)

December

Heroes Rising- accepting OFA even though it means Izuku loses his power that he's worked to hard to make his own because they need to win to save, right? Waking up in the hospital with his arms broken, no memory of how they did it (unless....?)

Finaallly getting his provisional license and feeling like he can catch up; actually achieving a perfect victory in hero training; and then Izuku gets another quirk.

January

Learning about the Todoroki's; Izuku projecting hard onto Icy Hot about forgiveness right in front of his mapo tofu

World Heroes Mission, getting stabbed a whole lot; Deku saves the world with someone else by his side this time (seriously what's with Izuku's ability to turn everyone around him into a hero?! Also why are Izuku and Roddy like that?)

March

War with the Paranormal Liberation Front, he's the only one who can support Izuku when Shigaraki is looking for One For All because he's the only one who knows. His body moves on its own; he gets stabbed AGAIN. (He finally gets it now, what Izuku had meant when he saved him from the sludge villain a year ago.)

Waking up in the hospital and Izuku is in a coma, then he disappears before Katsuki gets to say what he's been wanting to say to him for a while now.

((Release the letter Hori (-_-))

April

Finally apologizing and bringing Izuku back, (and somewhere along the way "Don't look down on me!" turned into "Stop trying to win this on your own!" and "You've made every right choice as OFA's successor, but I can see that you're lost right now.")

My Hero Academia: You're Next- Whatever the FUCK is about to happen during the new movie (if he gets impaled AGAIN, istg.)

Happy birthday you crazy kid.

May

The war. "Can I still catch up to you, Izuku?" Also: This is probably when he remembers that he once held One for All

Defeating All for One, declaring himself the final boss; saving All Might, and: "I'm the guy who steps in when the nerd can't handle it all on his own." and: "[Izuku] ...feels like I could even surpass you right now!" and "Izuku, I'll no longer get in your way." AND: "I'm Kacchan of the Bakugous, you dumbass!"

"Do your best, Izuku!" "Don't you dare let me surpass you, Izuku!"

And Izuku wins with a punch that he propelled him through that literally changes the weather. They win. ("This is... our story!!" oh my god he literally has done such a 180.)

And now Izuku doesn't have his quirk anymore.

"I guess I thought... we'd be competing... and I'd be on your heels... for the rest... of our.. lives..."

In summary: Kacchan of the Bakugou's had such a no-good-very-bad-year wherein he got his shit rocked so hard and so frequently that he became a better person through the power of letting go and living well jk pulling his head out of his ass, learning to rely on other people, and, honestly, after putting this whole thing together, probably definitely also falling in love.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk!

[mafiadad5]

Try, try not to think about us in that way.

part 1// Genre- smut/ kinda plot?

Warnings/ au- best friends to lovers, 18+, unprotected (wrap it up), degrading, hint of mutual masturbation (bad at balancing attention tho so mostly y/n…), auralism, blindfold/ touch deprivation, y/n’s a little desperate…, may have forgotten things

Bestfriend!Chenle × fem!reader

Word Count- 3.5k+

a/n- I’m afraid part 1 is better plz go read, no proof read lolz… anyways hope u like xoxo🩷 tags- @sunnybutcloudy @marvelahsobx

Summary- You and Chenle has been friends for years now, since freshman year of Highschool, you finally graduate and go on a summer trip that you guys have been fantasizing to go on since sophomore year. You've always had a crush on him, but stopped trying after he rejected you freshman year. Not wanting to ruin the friendship, you ignore your feelings. That's until you're standing on the hotel balcony, listening to the waves crash on the shore as the sky lit up due to the sparkling stars, a cool breeze sending goosebumps to your skin, well that and also Chenle grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Your lips look so tasty when the stars reflect off of them." He looked at you. “Then what are you waiting for Chenle, kiss me then.” 

Plz continue on…🎀

"Y/n, wake up." You heard your mom's voice from your door.

It's been the first time you could sleep in since you started college in August, in your comfy childhood bed at that, but of course, you couldn't enjoy it. It seems like you could never get a good rest actually, your dreams are always filled with fantasies about Chenle. It seems like ever since the beach trip you two took together, your dreams has gotten even worst—graphic, and you couldn't stand it. It's been months since you and him talked— well, since he talked to you.

After the trip he pretty much started to avoid you. Finding excuses to miss hang outs the rest of summer, responding dryly to your text, not calling, or even bother answering your calls, just acting strange— and you knew why. There was nothing you could do at this point, he wouldn't let you. Besides, you started college in a different state, so I guess it was best to cut ties or whatever it was in the first place. You just wished it never happened if this is how it would end. You made it out of your room, meeting your mom downstairs.

"You forgot your bag in your car again," She smiled. "and guess who I ran into this morning at the store?" She looked up at you from the kitchen as you sat at the table.

"Who?

"Chenle! He's doing well too, got his own place and everything." You forcefully smiled, taking a sip from your glass of water. "He asked about you too, what ever happened between you? Went on the trip and it seems like everything fell apart." "We just got into it on the trip and decided that we didn't work as friends." You didn't want it to, but your mind instantly geared to that night— the taste of him on your lips, the feeling of him in you, you could never forget it.

"Plus, if he's so worried about me he can just text my phone-" You stopped in your tracks from your phone buzzing on the table, your heart stopping for a moment as you glanced down at the phone, his name popping up on your notification center. 

You swear that you could hear his voice as you read the message: "Hey. Kinda weird but I heard you were back in town. I understand if you say no, but do you think you can come over my place later for dinner, so we can... you know... talk." You thought maybe you were just seeing something, shit maybe you were even dreaming again. It's been months, why now? You sat there staring at your phone for a second, the room silent, your mind forming millions of thoughts. You sat for so long your phone went dark again, but it instantly lit up again, another message stacked above the one he sent, a mere: "please."

You looked up at your mom, a smirk painting your face disguising the butterflies and shocked pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. "Speaking of the devil. He just asked me to come over to dinner to talk." Your mom smiled in response, glazing at you as she wiped the counter. "You should, so you can reconcile. Plus, I miss my babies hanging out together.”

"I'll think about it." You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as your mom grinned.

You knew you had no thinking to do— you sat in the mirror, making sure you looked perfect, even better than the last time he's seen you. You knew that you were gonna go no matter what, and there you were, driving down the road that led to his house.

You stood at his front door, nervous to ring the doorbell, nervous of what you would even say when he opened the door, nervous of if he would even open the door. The way you felt about seeing him, you would've thought he was never your best friend. You finally gathered the courage to just ring it and you stood there for a minute, thinking he was just ignoring it, but then the door opened.

You wanted to be the one who looked better than the last time you spoke, but it looks like he beat you to that. His dark eyes held so much expression, and his plumped pink lips that met your gaze drove you insane— it hadn't even been 30 seconds and you already want another taste.

"Y/n?" He spoke exasperated. 

"Chenle." You said in response, an awkward smile appearing on your face.

"Come inside, it's cold and rainy." His eyes were wide as he grabbed your hand, pulling you inside. "I didn't think you would come, you ignored my message. How'd you even find my address?" He stood in front of you, a black t-shirt hugging those familiar abs, black loose pants hanging on his legs.

"Even though you stopped talking to me, you never stopped sharing your location." You flashed him a sarcastic smile, his expression instantly shifting to regret as he stepped closer to you.

"I'm so so sorry Y/n,  I was just afraid that things would change."

"You decided to start it, you did it, so if anything changed it's because of you. I didn't deserve that." He stepped even closer, a little too close for comfort, grabbing your hands. "I know, and I'm actually so sorry. I'm such a dick for ignoring you after we did that. Please, please forgive me." His eyes twinkled and his voice was weirdly desperate as he held your hands tighter.

"Chenle, we've been friends for years, I could never not forgive you. He didn't even wait for you to finish the sentence, pulling you into a hug by your hands, grabbing your waist. "I'm so sorry Y/n, I love you." He broke the hug, looking at you with sparkling eyes. "I love you too Chenle." You smiled.

"Well, I didn't make dinner because I didn't think you would come over, but I can order take out and we can watch a movie?" He said, walking you to the living room, grabbing his phone as you nodded in response.

1 hour later the food finally got there, another hour passed as you two sat eating, talking each others heads off like nothing ever happened. You glanced at your phone, 10:07 pm. You didn't even notice the time passing by, and was ready to break the news that you had to go, but he spoke before you could even get the words put together. "It's pretty late, and it's raining super hard now, you should just stay the night." You looked up him, a smile sitting on his face as you looked down at your phone, thinking about how your luggage is literally in your car so you had everything you needed.

You haven't stayed the night with him since the beach trip and you saw how that turned out so you were hesitant about going, but he was you best friend and you trusted him— plus, you both learned your lesson so what's the worst that could happen? "Yea ok, but I need to get my bag out the car."

"You brought a bag?" He smiled, looking at you with questioning eyes.

"Yes I brought a bag, I just got back from school yesterday."  You said in a mocking voice, getting up from the table and grabbing yours keys. "Oh yeah I forgot you just got back home. I'll go get your bag." 

You two sat in his bed, watching a movie, his hand resting on your knee. You already changed into more comfortable clothes. Everything had gone back to normal and that's what's eating you up inside. You can't stop thinking about that night— his scent, the way his finger twirled on your knee, it was all making it so hard to forget.

"So how did you get this house so fast?" You asked, trying to distract yourself as his fingers trailed up your skin, going higher to your thigh.

"Well, I have roommates, but they're not here." He said. His voice sounded more sensual, and his hand trailed up even higher, pushing the fabric to your shorts off your skin as he rubbed your upper thigh. You turned to look at him, his dark eyes already on you. You remembered this exact look and what it meant, and god did it drive you crazy for him to give you that look again, but you couldn't.

"Chenle, you saw what happened last time we did this. Let's just keep this strictly friends and that's all."

"I understand." He smiled in response, taking his hand off your thigh and nodding. The atmosphere was a little awkward, but died down as the movie ended. You look beside you and he was out like a light so you decided to just turn off the tv and slip on your eye mask. Typically you don't sleep with it on, but he has this obnoxious lamp in his room that makes you unable to sleep. You tucked yourself in under his cover and fell asleep soon after.

Chenle always had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night during his sleep, typically he just scrolled on his phone till he could sleep again, and it was no different this time around, even if you were laying beside him.

He couldn’t help to keep glancing down at your body though, the covers hugging your curves, your chest moving up and down as you breathed softly. Your hand rested on his torso unknowingly, but he tried to not think about it, gearing his attention back to his phone.

“chen- chenle.” you moaned out quietly.

“…Y/n?” He glanced at you, whispering quietly, but you didn’t say anything so he thought he was just hearing things— well, he wanted to think he was just hearing things. He couldn’t help but to get a little riled up though, even just hearing your voice drove him a little insane, so you know how much a moan could have an effect on him.

“chenle…please don’t stop.” You moaned out again, a little louder than the first time. He couldn’t help turning off his phone and looking at you. He couldn’t see if you were awake due to your eye mask, but he thought you were maybe trying to play a joke on him, maybe even trying to tease on purpose, but your body said differently.

Your mouth was slightly parted as you gripped the cover with one of your hands, your thighs were rubbing against themselves trying to find a hint of pleasure. He couldn’t control himself, not seeing you like this in front of him, hearing you moan his name again, all needy just for him. He needed you, and he had to face that— and obviously you weren’t thinking any differently, even if your mind told you that you were.

“Y/n.” He shook your body.

You lifted up your head, pulling the eye mask off your face to be met with Chenle’s eyes on yours, and there it was, that look. “You were sleep talking.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice was raspy and deeper than usual. You started to panic, hoping you didn’t say anything about him, you just tried to pretend nothing happened, but it was clear he heard something.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You smiled, slipping your mask back on— honestly, you just wanted to avoid this as much as possible, but he didn’t let you. Before you could turn around fully he grabbed your face, cupping it with one of his hands making you face towards him. You tried to take off your eye mask again, but he grabbed your hand, pinning it to the bed. You couldn’t see anything, but you felt his lips softly trailing over your skin.

“What were you dreaming about?” 

you

“I- I don’t remember.” You felt his breath on your neck, trailing further down to your collar bone, making you shiver.

You tried to sound calm and genuine as possible, but his lips brushed against your neck ever so slightly as he moved back up to your face and it almost made you fall apart. His hand that was once cupping your face found its way around your throat. “Stop lying.” He squeezed lightly, causing a light, breathy moan to escape your lips accidentally. “I’m not lying.” The hand that was holding down your wrist was now roaming around your body, slipping under your pajamas pants into your underwear, sliding a finger in between your folds.

“So wet, just for me.” You could feel him smile into your cheek, before he kissed it. “Chenle.” You moaned out, melting into his embrace. “But wait,” he removed his hands and lips from your body, a smirk panting his face as he watched your lip tremble with desire.

“Strictly friends and that’s all, right?” He said in a teasing tone, obviously trying to get in your head, but you did say that so there was nothing you could do, well nothing he could do.

You laid on your back, feeling so desperate that you were willing to do anything to release— plus, you two already have done things so who cares anymore. Your hand slipped lower and lower, sliding into your underwear. You toyed with your clit causing you to let out a small moan as you felt a relief from wanting to feel any kind of pleasure.

“Are you touching yourself?” His voice rung in your ears, making you even more needy. You just ignored him as you started to circle your sensitive bud with your finger.

“You’re that desperate huh? That much of a desperate slut?”

Even though it was only once, it turned you on so much when he talked to you like that, and now was no different, and you didn’t try to hide that. You slipped a finger in your aching hole that was begging for attention, letting out a loud cry as you went in and out slowly.

He couldn’t help but to be turned on by you too, slipping his pants down exposing his hard on.

“I bet you wished it was my fingers don’t you.” He sighed out, pumping his length slowly as he looked at what unfolded in front of him. “Mhm.” You moaned out, his words only making you go faster.

“God you look so pretty, all desperate for me.” You couldn’t see what he was doing, but your moans weren’t the only ones filling the room, so you assumed that he was getting off to you as well.

“Take off your pants, I want to see you finger yourself, fuck.” You took no time, removing your pants with your free hand, throwing them to the side. You could feel him move closer to you, gripping the sheets beside you as he slid your underwear down to your knees.

“Can you go faster for me?” He let out a breathless moan as you started to go faster, your arousal coating your fingers making him go even more crazy. “Want to be inside you again so bad— all I can think about.” His voice was becoming needier and needier by the second as he slowly reached his high, pumping faster as your moans seeped into your brain, filling it with dirty thoughts.

“Fuck I can’t take it.” You threw your head back, biting your bottom lip as you almost reached your high. “You look so pretty when you finish, keep going for me, wanna see you cum so bad.” He said in a tired moan. You let out a loud whimper, legs shaking as you fingered yourself faster to his words. No matter how overwhelming it felt, you just couldn’t stop, you needed more.

“Chenle.” You said, your chest heaving up and down from the intense pleasure that washed over your body.

“Yes Y/n.”

“Please, just fuck me.” He drove you insane, no matter what you did, how much you tried to fight it, you couldn’t and he couldn’t either. “I want to, I really do, but you said strictly friends— I don’t want you to regret this.” He turned to look at you.

“Chenle… we’ll never be strictly friends, fuck me.” He took no time getting on top of you. You tried to remove the mask off your eyes once again, but failed when he pinned your hands down beside your head.

He planted kisses on your cheek again, leaving your lips bare as you hungrily wanted to taste him. He slowly kissed down your jawline to your neck, teasing you as your legs brushed against his. He flipped your hands over, interlocking his fingers with yours as he kissed up your face again, going to your ear.

“Gonna make you feel so good, you want it, yeah?” He whispered softly causing you to almost turn him over and just ride him yourself.

“Yes. Please, I want it bad.” He smiled on your skin, releasing one of your hands to adjust his tip at your hole, pushing himself into you. “Fuck.” You whined out, your skin flushing with pleasure. “You take me so well.” He moaned out as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. The thrust were so much more passionate than the last time, so much more loving, it made you see stars.

“Does it feel good baby?” You felt his breath on your cheek, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your hands deeper into the pillows. “So good.” You moaned out as the thrust got faster and filled with more anticipation. You couldn’t even see him, and he was still making every inch of your body feel good.

“Fuck, you’re such a dirty girl— having dreams about me. Is this what you dream about huh? Me using you like this?” It was something about the way he spoke to you like this that made you yearn for more, that made you go numb. “Mhm.” You moaned out, causing him to go at a speed that you thought was impossible, hitting your g-spot at a perfect angle, his hands now wrapped around your wrist pinning them down.

“You’re such a slut for me.” He smiled into your skin, giving your cheek another messy kiss. “Only for you.” You clenched around him, almost reaching you high, making him whimper out in desperation as his thrust started to get sloppier. “I’m almost there Chenle.” You cried out, throwing your head back as your moans grew louder. “Fuck, take this off, I want to look at you when you cum.” He snatched the eye mask off your face, looking at your glossy eyes with a smirk on his face, soon turning into a gasp.

Your eyes rolled back as your legs started to shake under his. Your lip quivered from overwhelming pleasure as he hit more thrust after you reached your high. “Fuck.” He whimpered out, hitting a few more quick thrust, emptying himself inside of you, burrowing his head in your neck as he came. He stayed inside of you for a second as you two caught your breaths.

“I want you so bad Y/n. I want to be yours.” He looked at you, everything still and quiet for a moment.

You’ve wanted to hear those words since freshman year, you didn’t even know what to say and he could tell. He leaned down, kissing your lips passionately, like he wanted to do all night, smiling before laying beside you.

“We can talk about this tomorrow, ok?” 

You thought it was honestly a dream, it had to be, but there you sat, in front of your crush of 5 years, finally dating, at the very beach where it all started.

It took 2 rejections, 2 hookups, and one break, but here you are, with him.

You look up at him, he's already looking at you and grabs your hand. "You look beautiful, has anybody told you that?" His face now in a smile. "Thank you." You said as you turned towards him, the deep blue ocean in front of you, suffocating on your breath as you feel his fingers leave your hand and slowly drag up your arm. "You're welcome", he says as he grabs your waist pulling you towards him. "What are you doing Chenle?" You laugh as he pulls you closer to his body. “Just kiss me.” He smiles, but this time— it’s not a dream. 

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

01: Crossfire

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

a/n: Hi!!! First chapter! Are you guys excited? What do you think that will happen?

Masterlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Monza. One of the two most important races for Ferrari in the calendar.

And my home race as well. 

The weather is still warm at the end of August, the sky is blue and every house has a Ferrari flag hanging from their windows. Every person that lives in Milano or in Italy knows that this weekend is important, that this weekend is their weekend.

“Do you think they will give you a chance to be the priority today?” 

Erica, my older sister by only two years. She was completely different from me, with blonde hair and skin easily tanned. She always came to my races, being the one that takes care of my flights and to rent cars to have during the weekend. Not like Soleil, who was actually a little version of me and my nutritionist.

“I mean, I'm ahead of Leclerc. They should” I said, shrugging my shoulders as I ate my breakfast. “The only person in front of me is Max, I don't think they want to risk and fuck up things right if front of all the Tifosi. They are idiots, but not that much to make me and Charles switch positions just because I'm the second driver”

Erica looked at me with a smile, nodding as she tied the strap of her dress in the back of her neck. Every time she came to the races she made sure to be dressed with the colors of the team, always wearing red since I was contracted by Ferrari and then white, red and black when I was in Haas. Today, for my homerace, she was wearing a nice cherry red dress from Meshki, a brand I made collabs with some months ago. 

“If they were smart they would do a good job and instead of letting Charles fight, they would order him to defend you from Lando” Soleil pointed, helping Erica to tie the dress. “Is not the first time they order you do that for him, and for once that you are in front of him they should give you a chance”

“I just want to end on the podium, that is the goal today” I sighed. “What Charles does is all his business”

“At least you should talk about the strategy…” Soleil sighed. “Only to make things clear. This is your home race, he should respect that”

“Hah! Sure” I laughed. “It was my home race last year too and he didn’t think twice to overtake me in the last lap even if his engineer was screaming in his ears to not do that. That’s even more cruel that overtaking me in the middle of the race” 

“But last year you two didn't have a warning like this year” Erica sighed. 

“Whatever, he’ll be an asshole anyway”

My sisters looked at each other and rolled their eyes, probably tired of the rivalry between Charles and I. But they don’t understand, they don’t understand how it feels to always be challenged by him since the first time he saw me. It was like he was a bully and I was his victim.

“You two are twenty six, when will be the day you two fix things?” Erica asked. 

“When one of us dies” I stated, making both of my sisters groan.

“Drama queen” Soleil sighed.

“Yes I am”

Getting out of the hotel was something that took us half an hour, being stopped by fans that waited for the drivers to start their way to the track. They called my name and the nickname they gave me when I got famous.

“Princepessa”

The good thing about being half Italian was that they didn't care if my other half was British. They cared about my Italian roots, feeling proud that someone from their country is driving for Ferrari. A Tifosi driving for the Tifosi.

“Today will be your day” a fan said. “You'll win this race”

I smiled at them, letting them put the friendship bracelets on my wrists and taking pictures with them, somehow wanting to believe all the words they said.

Some meters in front of me was Charles, signing caps and shirts on his way to the car. I recognized Andrea (his personal trainer), Joris (his photographer) and then a girl, probably his new fling. They were waiting for him already inside of the car, the three of them looking down at their phones.

“Is that his new girl?” I whispered to Erica, looking at the car Charles was walking to.

“I think so, she was in the hospitality yesterday” Erica answered, nodding. “I would say she's nice, but the only things she did was make tons of Tik Tok videos and pictures for her Instagram”

“Are we gossiping about his new girl?” Soleil smiled, stepping between us. “She's not nice. She thought I was one of the restaurant crew and just ordered me to bring her a coffee! And her manners? Uhg, non existent”

“His taste in women is really suspicious” I joked, looking at that girl, who actually looked like me.

The three of us walked towards the car that was waiting for us, walking in front of Charles' car and looking at the girl that was sitting in the front seat on the passenger seat. She was looking at her phone, recording a Tik Tok probably, while Joris and Andrea tried to not make obvious eye rolls.

“Yeah, neither his friends like her” Erica pointed.

I sighed, walking to the driver seat of my rented car and got it, turning on the engine while my sisters got in the car. People noticed us and started to wave at me, all of them holding the shirts and and even flags and waving them as I drove next to them.

“They want you to win” Soleil said excitedly, watching the Tifosi wave their hands.

“They want Ferrari to win” I corrected. “They don't care of it's me or Charles”

I heard them sigh and I just shrugged my shoulders, driving towards the track while the police guided us, somehow making sure neither Charles or myself suffered an accident before arriving.

If we have an accident during the race it’s no longer their problem.

After I parked the car, I saw Charles parking right next to mine, opening the door and looking at me. He sighed, rolling his eyes when I waved at him and immediately placed his hand on the back of the girl that was with him in this race.

I walked with my sisters, just a little faster to enter the paddock first, and when I looked at his girl I nearly laughed right on his face.

She was dressed with a top that only covered her front side and a skirt that had an opening on the side and let you see all her leg. 

“I think you went to the wrong place” I smiled at that girl. “Coachella was on April and Tomorrowland was on July”

“It's fashion” she frowned, her voice sounding too high. “You wouldn't understand”

“I do understand. At least I went to the Met Gala” I smiled, walking away and pressing my Paddock Pass on the ID scanner.

I could feel Charles' eyes on my back, probably thinking about ways of how to take me off of the track in a few hours, or how to poison my lunch. He would do anything to make sure I won't perform better than him.

Cameras and reporters followed me, making my sisters walk some feet behind me, taking pictures of me and asking things related to the race, which I always replied with the same answer.

“I'll do everything I can to win. It's an important race for me and for the team”

When they were satisfied with my answer and after they had enough pictures of me, they walked away to focus on other drivers that were around the paddock too.

As soon as the red building was close enough, the media managers and content creators of the team started to fly around me and soon after Charles, asking questions and doing the trends that were famous on social media.

Let's start the act.

The smile on my face was half real, half fake. Having Charles near while we were inside of the hospitality meant that the rivalry we had since kids had to be left outside the building, making us act friendly and fake just to make the team and sponsors happy.

“Hey Daf!” 

He knows I hate that nickname. He knows that every time he called me like that I ended up screaming at him, telling him that he's not allowed to call me that way, only one person and he is dead.

“Charlie!” I smiled, fakely, watching how he fought to not roll his eyes or look daggers at me. “Those jeans again? How many of them do you have?”

In moments like this I enjoyed teasing him, giving him nicknames he hated and making sure he couldn't fight me. 

“This jeans, dear Dafne, are my lucky jeans” he said, smiling. 

“Mhm, I wonder when are you going to burn them” I said. “But seems that your girl has the same taste as you, now makes sense”

I saw him clench his jaw and fists, taking deep breaths and looking at him with his eyes furrowed. He knows he can't do anything, so he simply smiles and nods, walking away to his room followed by that girl.

“What was her name?” I asked Soleil. “She has face of Karen”

“I think it's actually Karen” she laughed. “I wonder where he met her”

“I'm sure it was on Raya” I chuckled. “Maybe a summer fling that stayed for too long and he doesn't even know how to say no to her”

“I don't know who I should feel sorry for” Soleil sighed. “Him because she clearly is with him for the money, or her because she will probably be replaced soon”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked at the room with his number on the door, wondering what they would be doing. Ignoring each other? Her looking at the phone and taking pictures while Charles got changed? Probably that, or she would even be using him to take pictures of her so she could post them on Instagram, hinting that she's with him.

“Whatever, they are adults” I sighed, getting up. 

When I opened the door of my room and sighed, hearing how they talked, or most likely argued.

“What is her fucking problem? Why did she talk like that to me?” that girl exclaimed. “How dare she?”

“Come on, it wasn't that bad, Melanie…”

“Are you going to defend her or me?” her voice was too high, piercing into my ears. “Charles!”

“What! Fuck off, Melanie! You knew where you were coming, don't cry now. I told you what clothes you had to pack and, as always, you did whatever you wanted” he groaned, and I could hear how he closed the door of his closet.

“God, sometimes you are so stupid”

“Whatever”

I smiled, changing my clothes to my racing suit and folding my clothes, stretching my back and arms before walking out of the room, just at the same time as Charles. His jaw was clenched and I could see the vein of his temple a little swollen, something that always happened whenever he was angry or stressed, and probably now would be both reasons.

“Next time you bring a girl, make sure she knows where she's coming” I whispered.

“What about you won't open your mouth next time I bring a girl?” he frowned. “You are giving me a headache”

“Oh really? That's nice!” I smiled, winking at him and walking away. “You should have a painkiller, anyway”

“What I should have is a good race without you in front of me” he groaned.

“Too bad it won't be possible” I said. “Get used to it, I plan of being in front of you as much as I can”

That smile. 

God, I hated that smile.

I hated that she always knew what to say and how. 

“We'll see soon” I frowned.

She rolled her eyes and walked away, making me follow her with my eyes. Melanie walked out of the room and stood next to me, never letting go of her phone.

“Should I go to the balcony? I think there are nice views of the… How do you call it?” she said, making me take a deep breath and fake a smile.

“Paddock” I said.

“Oh yeah! That” she smiled.

“Look” I sighed. “I have things to do, I'm not your photographer”

Before she could say something I already was walking away towards the restaurant, sitting on a table and looking at my phone. Just a small lunch before doing interviews and then getting ready for the race, an ice bath and some stretch outs.

“Where did you leave that girl?”

I turned around and sighed when I recognized Erica's voice. She sat next to me and placed the cup of coffee in front of me.

Dafne's older sister always tried to be out of our  arguments. When we were kids, she always avoided our fights and stood away with my brother and Jules, ignoring us. I always believed that Jules and her would end up together, and somehow maybe they were for some time.

Maybe that's why she always tried to befriend me too, to make me feel that Jules was here too, and for her to have someone that reminds her of Jules.

“Last time I saw her she was asking me to take pictures of her” I sighed, grabbing the cup and drinking it slowly. “She was getting annoying”

“And why did you bring her, then?” she sighed. “I thought you were smarter”

“Did Dafne send you so she could just use this against me later?” I said looking at her, watching how she shook her head and smiled weakly.

“I came here because I care for you, Charles. I don't care if my sister and you can't stand each other” she said, resting her back on the chair and crossing her arms in front of her chest. My eyes went to the small tattoo of her wrist, one of many she has. The little 17 was facing me.

“A guy has his needs” I sighed. “And she was there on vacations”

“Sure, but you know what she has been doing while you were out of the hospitality?” she sighed, but I already knew the answer. “She thinks she's your girlfriend, Charles, only because you let her be in your bed”

“And what if she is?” I frowned, and somehow that tattoo got darker than it already was.

Jules would be disappointed, right?

“Look, I just…” I sighed, but immediately shook my head. “You wouldn't understand”

Of course she wouldn't. Because I don't understand it either.

“Then explain it to me, hm? I might be Dafne's sister, but I'm your friend too” she said. 

“Not now, okay?” I sighed. “I have things to do, a race to make”

“Alright” she sighed. “Good luck today, Charlie. Just… don't kill my sister”

She stood up and walked away, not after she messed my hair softly.

Jules and her would have made a really beautiful couple.

I took a deep breath and sighed, getting up and walking to my room again. I looked inside Dafne's room and frowned when I saw a fruit basket on her table, finding a big amount of peaches on it.

“Fuck” I sighed, walking in and grabbing that fruit.

I might hate her, but I don't wish her death.

“What are you doing?”

I tensed and took a deep breath, turning around and finding Dafne leaning on the door frame, watching me with the peaches in my hands. 

“Nothing” I said. 

“Putting a fruit you know I'm allergic to in a basket?” she frowned. “I thought you were stupid, but this? This is crossing the line”

“No! Hey!” I frowned. Did she really think I put them on purpose? “I just grabbed them because I know you are allergic to the peel of the peach, asshole. You are welcome”

Before she could say anything I walked out of her room and went to mine, locking the door and groaning. 

The Italian anthem echoed through the stands of Monza, reverberating in my chest as I stood in front of the grid. My heart pounded in time with the fervent claps and chants of the Tifosi, their energy a palpable force lifting me higher. The sea of red around the circuit was a sight to behold, with their flags waving, faces painted, the roar of their passion almost louder than the melody of the anthem.

This was my home, my people, and today, I was going to give them a race to remember.

After the final notes finished, I walked back to my car, in the first line of the grid, next to the navy blue Red Bull. No one was in front of me, the only car to beat was the Red Bull. I looked to the car behind it, the other red one of the grid, Charles’ car. I felt his eyes on me, and the only thing I did was put on my helmet and remember that today was my day, not his.

This is my race.

The formation lap felt like an eternity, each second stretching as I warmed up the tires, feeling the grip, the balance of the car. As we lined up on the grid once more, the tension was almost unbearable.

Five lights.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Lights out.

I launched off the line, my tires gripping perfectly as I sped towards the first chicane. Max had a strong start, but I was right on his tail, the slipstream pulling me closer. Behind me, I could feel Charles trying to find an opening, but I shut the door firmly at every opportunity.

Lap after lap, I pushed harder, feeling the car’s every response. I stayed within striking distance of Max, waiting for my chance. And then, halfway through the race, it came. Max made a slight error going into the Parabolica, his line not as clean as usual. It was all the invitation I needed.

I dived down the inside, my heart in my throat, and for a moment, we were side by side. But I had the better exit, my car flying past him down the main straight as the tifosi erupted in a deafening cheer. The lead was mine.

Now it was a matter of maintaining it. Every lap felt like a battle, not just with the track but with my own nerves. I could feel Charles gaining behind me, his pace relentless. But I focused forward, hitting every apex, every braking zone perfectly. The laps ticked down, and with each one, my confidence grew.

The final lap was a blur. I could feel the tears in my eyes, barely letting me see the track, but I kept driving, pushing and turning the wheel until I crossed the finish line. 

“Dafne Morelli, you are a race winner!”

I did it. I finally did it.

As I parked the car in the pit lane and got out of the car, I heard the roar of the crowd, all of them waving the Italian flag over their heads. I saw my team, all dressed in red and jumping, cham¡nting my name. I felt pats on my back and helmet, some drivers coming to congratulate me.

But I felt that gaze too, the one that always burned me alive whenever I won him.

And it felt so satisfying knowing that I won against Charles Leclerc.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Out of My League

————————————————————————-

Summary: Flashback. The story of how you and Joe came to be. Years before marriage and your little family.

Warnings: none, fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Beginning of… Into The Mystic

A/N: Joe is a senior in high school and you are a junior. It's your first year at Athens HS! Also, most of these students' names are made up.

————————————————————————-

August, 2014

(Joe’s pov)

“Yo! Joey!” - Zach

I turned around to see one of my best friends running up to me.

“First day of senior year!” - Zach

“Yup! Just think about it, we’re like the big dogs now.” - Joe

“Ya know it. I heard that there's this really hot new chick coming from Kentucky.” - Zach

“Well, I don't want any part of that. I've got enough going on with football and schoolwork. Don't be surprised if my next girlfriend is in college.” - Joe

“Damn dude, that was pretty forward. You haven't even seen her yet. This could be your Juliette, Romeo!” - Zach

“I highly doubt it.” - Joe

We rounded the corner to find a few more of the football guys and a few of their girlfriends with them.

“Yeah, her name is y/n.” - Cassidy

“Who is?” - Joe

After making my presence known, Cassidy turned around and rolled her eyes at the sight of me.

“Dude, what was that for?” - Joe

“Shoo, Joe.” - Cassidy

“What, why?” - Joe

“Because I'd rather you leave than explain that we have a new girl just to hear you say you're focusing on football.” - Cassidy

“She’s got a point.” - Zach

“Who's side are you on?” - Joe rolled his eyes

Before Zach could answer, the bell rang, telling us to head to first period.

The group disbanded, and when everyone else went in the direction of the same classroom, I realized I was probably going to be alone in this class.

My first period was chemistry, and sadly, the teacher was notorious for a boy-girl seating chart.

I walked upstairs and found the room. When I walked in, everyone was in their seats already.

Looking for my name attached to a seat number on the board, I found it and then went on trying to find it.

The tables were for two people, and in the back corner where my table was, I saw that a girl was already occupying the other seat.

She was pretty, I won't lie, but I'd never seen her before.

The girl was looking down at her schedule when I sat my stuff down on the table, causing her to look up at me.

A warm smile spread across her lips, and I found myself studying her face a little too long.

“Hi.” - Joe

“Hey.” - you

I sat down next to her, my mind trying to come up with a conversation.

“Enjoying your first day so far?” - Joe

“Yeah, pretty well, you?” - you

“Same. Other than my friend’s girlfriend being rude to me for no reason.” - Joe

She laughed. It was one of the cutest laughs I've ever heard, and it was infectious too.

“I'm sure you didn't deserve it.” - you

“Thank you! I walked up to them, and she just rolled her eyes at me.” - Joe

“Dang man, she has beef with you.” - you

“That's what I'm sayin’. I don't know what I've ever done to her, though.” - Joe

“Ask her.” - you shrugged

“Nah, I don't care that much. Why am I even telling you this?” - Joe

“I don't know.” - you laughed

There's that laugh again.

“I just started unloading on you, huh? Well, I haven't seen you before so tell me about yourself.” - Joe

“Well, I'm a junior, so that's probably why. I'm not that interesting though. I strive for good grades, and I do gymnastics with a side of dance.” - you

“Oh really? I play football.” - Joe

“That's cool.” - you smiled

“Yeah, I’m feeling really good about this season, I just know it's gonna be great.” - Joe

“Well, I wish you luck.” - you

“I appreciate that, and you too. Hope gymnastics goes well.” - Joe

“Thank you.” - you smiled

Before the conversation could go further, the teacher started talking about what we should expect in this class. The teacher didn't stop me and my new seat buddy from talking, though.

As we talked longer, I realized we had a lot in common. I wouldn't be lying if I said she was the first girl I've talked to about Star Wars.

She was really fun, though, and easy to talk to.

Our conversation lasted till the bell rang, and we both sheepishly smiled when we realized that we'd been loudly talking in a quiet classroom.

I stood up and started packing my things. She did the same. The rest of the students were filing out of the room when we both put our backpacks on, seemingly in sync.

“I… I’m Joe, by the way. Joe Burrow, but most call me Joey.” - Joe

“It was nice talking to you, Joey. I'm y/n.” - you

She shook my hand and walked out of the door, leaving me shocked.

y/n… new hot girl from Kentucky.

After talking to her, it felt wrong to refer to her in that way. She was really pretty, but hot isn't a word I like to use when referring to girls.

I hope I have more classes with her. Woah, what am I saying?!

Focus on football, Joe.

——

Sadly, I didn't have any more classes with y/n, but I thankfully had friends in all my other classes.

I had lunch B, and most of my football buddies were in there, but I found myself zoning out while trying to look around the room for her.

Ever since the bell rang in chemistry, I haven't stopped thinking about y/n. It was becoming a slight problem, but it seemed like all I wanted was to go to chemistry tomorrow and talk to her.

After school ended, the football team stayed after school since we had our first home game the same day.

Hours later, we were suited up and ready to go out and stretch.

When we ran out and took the field as the senior quarterback, I was naturally the one leading the pack, but my eyes drifted toward the sideline.

One of the cheerleaders was flipping while the others were in stunts, but when she landed her last trick and posed, I gasped lightly when I saw who it was.

y/n.

That's how Cassidy knew her name! She’s a cheerleader!

“Joe! Where are you going?” - Zach

The sound of my teammate yelling snapped me out of my daydream, and I realized that when the rest of the team stopped running to stretch, I kept going because all I was paying attention to was y/n.

“Oh.” - Joe

I turned around and ran to where I was supposed to be, but when I turned around, y/n was smiling at me. I smiled back.

——

We ended up winning the game, which is always amazing, but even better since it was our home opener.

After walking back into the locker room to hear what the coaches had to say, I showered and packed up to find my parents.

I wasn't at all surprised when most of the cheerleaders were standing outside waiting. Most of their boyfriends were players, so they'd wait after for them.

My eyes landed on my parents and brothers, but as I was walking in their direction, I heard a familiar voice calling for me.

“Joe!” - you

I turned in the direction of the voice to see y/n speedwalking over to me with a smile on her face.

“Hey, y/n.” - Joe smiled

“Hey, you did well! I knew you said you played football but I wasn't expecting that. You're super good.” - you

Is it hot out here all of a sudden? Why is my face heating up?

“Thanks. You're really good too. I know those flips are hard to do. You make it look effortless.” - Joe

“Thanks… sorry I distracted you though.” - you

“Not your fault, I just wasn't expecting to see you. You look uh… good, by the way.” - Joe

“You too.” - you giggled

Just as I was about to say something else, I heard my mom's voice calling for me.

“Sorry, that's my mom. I gotta go.” - Joe

“It's all good. See you in chem?” - you

“See you in chem.” - Joe

As I walked away from her, I felt something I'd never felt before.

Oh no.

——

Next Day

It was Friday and lunchtime.

All my teammates were feeling good after the win yesterday, and sure, I was too, but that wasn't what was on my mind.

This morning in chemistry, I found myself lost in a conversation with y/n again. The disappointment when the bell rang was insane. I never wanted to stop talking to her.

She was just different.

The attention she got from other guys was because of her looks, and she was pretty, gosh, she was pretty… but I didn't like being around her for that.

We had a lot in common and never ran out of things to talk about. She listened to what I had to say and gave great feedback. We talked about our futures and what we wanted to be when we graduated.

I told her about my hopes of going to the league, and what she replied with gave me a flutter in my stomach that I'd never felt before.

“If you make it to the NFL, you have to invite me to come see you.”

I’d known this girl for two days and I was already ready to make that promise.

My mind was so stuck on that altercation that I didn't hear Zach talking to me from across the table.

“Joe? Joe!” - Zach

I flinched slightly and looked up at him, all the guys at the table watching me with weird looks on their faces.

“Sorry… I spaced out.” - Joe

“Anyway, Cassidy told me that y/n was asking about you at their lunch.” - Zach

“What? What'd she ask?” - Joe

Should my heart be beating this fast?

“Asked if you had a girlfriend, I guess. Don't worry, though, Cas told her that you're focusing on football.” - Zach

“Oh. Okay.” - Joe

Is that really what I want?

“She’s so funny to tease.” - Chad

“Seriously, she's got cheerleader brain.” - Max

Why are they talking about her like that??

“I gotta go.” - Joe

I stood up from the lunch table, quickly finding a trashcan and throwing my stuff away before walking out of the lunch room.

“What’s his problem?” - Max

“I don't know, bro.” - Chad

Zach knew because he was right. What he told me yesterday was haunting me.

Romeo, this could be your Juliette.

——

My thoughts ran wild as I went to the office and asked to do some volunteer work.

The receptionist gave me the okay to go down to the middle school for the remainder of the lunch period.

I drove over to the middle school and went up to the office, clicking the button to signal the office worker that I was out there.

When the door unlocked I was able to open it. I did, and whose eyes I met surprised me.

“y/n?” - Joe

“Oh, hey Joe.” - you

“What are you doing here?” - Joe

“Gonna head to a class to volunteer, I have a free period right now. Aren't you supposed to be in lunch?” - you

“Well, yeah, but I had to get out of there.” - Joe

“Why’s that?” - you

Her brows were furrowed like she could hear the slight edge in my voice.

“Some of the guys were saying stuff about you, kinda pissed me off, so I left.” - Joe

“What? You left because of that? I’m used to it, Joe. I'm just a dumb cheerleader.” - you

“You're not, though, that's why I didn't want to listen to it. I've only known you for two days, but I look forward to every conversation we share. They don't know you as I do.” - Joe

y/n placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me. Her eyes gave off a grateful look.

“You're the first person who’s made attempts to get to know me, and I appreciate it.” - you

“Not even your teammates?” - Joe

“I love ‘em, but they're not the Star Wars type like you are.” - you

“Yeah… I'm pretty cool like that.” - Joe

“Oh, whatever!” - you rolled your eyes

We laughed with each other before the receptionist cleared her throat. Both y/n and I froze when we realized where we were.

“Oh, sorry!” - you

“You guys can both go to room 379 if you’d like, seems like you two have a spark.” - receptionist

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously, but y/n smiled at the older lady and walked through the double doors into the building.

There weren't any words shared between us as we walked to the room, both of us were thinking about what the woman had said. Do we have a spark?

——

Ten minutes into hanging out with the sixth graders, the teacher sent y/n and me to the copy room.

“Hey, have you thought about formal?” - Joe

“What about it?” - you

Winter formal wasn't coming until December, obviously, but I felt the need to ask.

“Like are you going? Date ideas?” - Joe

“I figured I'd go, yeah. I don't know who I'm gonna go with, though. Might just go with friends, the guys here aren't the best.” - you

“Ouch.” - Joe

“Hey, I don't count you with them. You’re separate.” - you

“I think that's good.” - Joe

“It is. You're a jock, but a nice one, you know? I like you.” - you

My face dropped as I looked at her, feeling my cheeks flush and my stomach flop.

“Not in that way!” - you rushed to say

“Oh… okay.” - Joe

“Why do you act disappointed? I thought you weren't looking for anything and focusing on football.” - you

“I don't know. I thought I was, but you're making it hard to.” - Joe

“What does that mean?” - you

“I barely know you, but I can't stop thinking about you. You understand me in a way I didn't think was possible… you're just different.” - Joe

“I feel the same way about you. You're nerdy but athletic and have these quirks that I'm obsessed with. You're oddly the guy version of me.” - you

“Nah, you're the girl version of me.” - Joe

“Oh, whatever!” - you shoved his chest

I'm feeling a little bold after she told me she can't stop thinking about me either. Should I make a little move?

“You look cute when you do that. You roll your eyes at me but are smiling.” - Joe

“Oh, uh. Thanks.” - you blushed

“You're welcome.” - Joe smiled

——

October, 2014

That's as far as we went talking about it.

Nothing ever came from that one conversation we shared at the middle school. That's the closest thing we ever did that could come close to showing feelings for one another.

We just continued being really good friends who giggle in the back of the chemistry room, but the eye contact we make while I'm on the field and she’s on the sidelines tells me there's something there.

In the past two months, I've concluded that no matter how hard I try to deny it, I have a crush on y/n.

I just don't know how to act on it.

She still thinks that I don't want a relationship right now, so I need to start dropping hints.

The first step of my plan was to ask her to study with me after school, like at my house.

So, when I walked into chemistry this morning, I had that idea in the back of my head.

“Hey.” - Joe smiled

“Morning.” - you smiled back

I sat my stuff down and took my seat next to her.

“I need to ask you something.” - you

“Oh, what's that?” - Joe

“They haven't announced it yet, but I won junior attendant for homecoming.” - you

“Really?! That's awesome!” - Joe

“Yeah, thanks. We have to have a guy from the football team be our escort…” - you

“And you want me to ask someone for you?” - Joe

She looked at me with a “boy, please” look on her face that made me laugh.

“I'm just playing. I'd love to walk you.” - Joe

“Okay, good. Thanks, Joey.” - you

“Mhm. When will you find out who won Hoco Queen?” - Joe

“Not till the game, but if I win, you’ll get a little crown too.” - you

“I get a crown too?? Now you have to win.” - Joe

“I'll try my hardest. You have to help my campaign, though.” - you

“Sounds like a deal.” - Joe smiled

——

Later that week, I met up with y/n during my lunch period and her free period. I helped her campaign, and when she wasn't around, I convinced the football team to vote for her.

I wanted to make sure she'd win.

——

“Junior attendant, y/n y/l/n, escorted by Joey Burrow.”

The announcer’s voice beamed through the speakers as we walked down the middle of the football field. My arm was looped with y/n’s, and I shortened my strides with the length of her heals in mine.

I hadn't seen her till she walked out and looped her arm with mine, but she looked so beautiful.

“You look gorgeous.” - Joe whispered

“Thank you.” - you blushed

We smiled for the camera when we reached the end of the field, and y/n gently squeezed my arm when we walked over and stood in our directed spot.

“You don't look too bad yourself.” - you

Our conversation was drowning out the announcer’s voice, who was reading the short paragraph that y/n wrote a couple of days ago. She'd made me proofread it so many times that I had it practically memorized.

“y/n would like to thank her parents and friends, especially her best friend, who is escorting her tonight.”

That part was new.

My cheeks heated up when I looked down at y/n to see her already smiling at me. She'd never come out and said that I was her best friend, but I couldn't say it didn't make sense.

“Surprise.” - you nudged him

“I'm your best friend, huh?” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you smiled

“You're mine too.” - Joe

“No way!” - you pushed Joe’s chest

“Don't tell Zach I said that, though.” - Joe

Her smile was infectious, and I felt my lips mirror y/n’s expression.

The announcer went on to introduce the senior attendant and read her little background story.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen. Your 2014 football homecoming queen is…”

I reached my other hand up to squeeze y/n’s that was wrapped around my bicep.

“y/n y/l/n!”

“You did it! Go get your crown!” - Joe

She let go of my arm and walked back to the middle of the field.

I watched with a proud smile on my face as y/n was handed a bouquet, a sash draped over her shoulder, and the crown on her head.

There was so much adoration in my heart for her, and when she turned around to look at me, my smile only widened.

“C’mere!” - you mouthed

I slowly walked over to her, and y/n re-looped our arms.

Bowing my head slightly, the crown was put on top of it. y/n laughed at the sight of the crown adorning my forehead.

“Lemme fix that. It's kinda sideways.” - you

She stepped on her tiptoes and fixed it, a blush forming on my cheeks when her fingers brushed down my face when she pulled away.

“You look cute.” - you smiled

“Thanks.” - Joe grinned

——

December, 2014

“Hey.” - Joe

“Oh, hey.” - you

I put my stuff down and sat down in my chair, the same routine since the first day of school. Hopefully, though, today some things will change.

Or at least be set in the right direction to change.

“I need to ask you a question.” - Joe

“Shoot.” - you

“Be my date too formal?” - Joe

I looked at her with hopefulness in my eyes. Please say yes.

“I'm already going with Chad… sorry, Joe.” - you

“Oh. It's okay, I just thought… nevermind.” - Joe

My shoulders slumped as I turned away from her and faced the board, biting the insides of my cheeks nervously.

The one time I shoot my shot with a girl, and I get rejected.

Guess that tells me what my priorities should be.

Focusing on football.

——

“What do you mean Joe’s here alone?” - you

“Yeah, Zach had to practically beg him to even come. Joe said there wasn't any point in going since he didn't have a date.” - Cassidy

“That makes me feel terrible…” - you

“Why?” - Cassidy

“Because he asked me, but I'd already said yes to Chad.” - you

“It's not your fault, how were you supposed to know that Joe was gonna ask you? I mean, he isn't looking for anything right now.” - Cassidy

“Yeah… do you know where he is?” - you

“No idea. Probably hiding in a corner.” - Cassidy

“Chad literally ditched me after pictures. Joe never would've done that…” - you

A few seconds of silence between the two girls went by before Cassidy had a lightbulb moment.

“Do you have a crush on Joe?!” - Cassidy

“What?! No!” - you

“You so do! y/n you should tell him! I honestly think he feels the same way…” - Cassidy

“No… he's focusing on football.” - you sighed

“So you do like him?” - Cassidy

“Maybe…” - you

When you admitted it out loud, it felt real. You like Joe.

Joey Burrow, the quarterback with the nerdy side that only you knew of, the one with the imperfect but adorable smile, the one that made you look forward to first period, your crush.

“I'm gonna go find him.” - you

You walked as fast as your heels allowed you and threw your half-drank cup of subpar punch in the trash can, pushing open the gym doors as Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE playing through the speakers served as a soundtrack.

Zach wasn't hard to find as a sea of letterman jackets was in the hallway.

“Where’s Joe?” - you

“Oh, hey, y/n! He said he was gonna go take a walk around.” - Zach shrugged

You nodded and walked away toward the academic wing of the school.

Only the generator lights were on, but there was enough lighting to make out that familiar tall frame looking into the trophy cases.

Carefully, so as to not scare him, you slowly walked up behind Joe and tapped his shoulder.

“Hi.” - you

“Hi.” - Joe

“Chad ditched me…” - you

“That sucks.” - Joe

He hadn't even looked up at you yet.

“I'm sorry. If I had known you were going to ask me, I wouldn't have said yes to him.” - you

“S’okay, probably for the better.” - Joe

“Why are you just walking around by yourself, Joe?” - you

“Nothing else to do. Kinda bored.” - Joe

“Wanna go see what teachers left their classrooms unlocked?” - you grinned

Joe’s eyes drifted away from the trophy case for the first time and found yours. A smile pulled at his lips as he nodded his head.

You held your hand out to him, and Joe gladly accepted, clasping his fingers with yours.

There were so many unspoken feelings shared between you two as you made your way down the hallways to find an open door.

“The chem room is open…” - Joe

You gently opened the door and pulled Joe in behind you, the lights being motion-activated turned on as you two walked in.

Joe flicked the light switch back off as the moonlight through the window lit up the room.

Making your way to your table, you and Joe sat down in your respective seats without sharing a word.

“Your dress is pretty.” - Joe

With a longing glance, you examined Joe’s hair, outfit, and shoes.

“Thanks. You look handsome.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smiled

A few seconds of silence went by before Joe cleared his throat, immediately getting your attention.

“Uhm… can I be honest with you?” - Joe

“Always.” - you

Here goes nothing.

“I think you're amazing. Talking to you every day makes me want to come to school, and I enjoy every word that's shared between us. You get to see a side of me that many people don't because I feel safe with you. I hope what I'm about to tell you doesn't ruin that, and you might just see me as a friend… but I like you.” - Joe

“In what way?” - you

In all honesty, you knew exactly what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“In the way that I find myself staring at you all the time because I think you're beautiful, In the way that you give me butterflies when you laugh or smile at me. You are incredible, y/n; gorgeous, smart, talented, crazy athletic, loyal, trustworthy.” - Joe

He paused for a second to scan your face for somewhat of a reaction.

“Now that I think about it, you're so out of my league.” - Joe laughed

“Go on, Joey.” - you giggled

“What I'm trying to say is… I have a crush on you, y/n.” - Joe

“Mr. ‘I'm focusing on football’ has a crush on me?!?” - you

Joe felt his stomach drop at your teasing. He'd just poured his heart out, and was thinking the worst.

“So you don't feel the same way?” - Joe

“What? I didn't say that!” - you

“So…?” - Joe

“I like you too, Joe. More than friends.” - you

“Really?” - Joe smiled

“Yeah.” - you grinned

You two sat there, no words shared, just tooth-rotting grins.

“I've never done this before… what happens next?” - Joe

“I think there's another question you need to ask me.” - you

“Oh, yeah! y/n…” - Joe

He took your hand in his, the size difference making your heart flutter for a second before you shifted your attention back to his beautiful blue eyes.

“Be my girlfriend?” - Joe finished

“I'd love to.” - you smiled

Somehow, your other hand found its way into his. Almost as if magnets were pulling your faces together, you both leaned in.

Your lips molded together so perfectly like you were each other’s missing piece.

Maybe because you guys were.

Joe would forever be grateful that he took the leap of faith and confessed to the girl that he swore was out of his league, for she would become his everything for the rest of his life.

That chemistry room is where you found your first real boyfriend, who would be your first kiss, and unbeknownst to you, you were Joe’s first real girlfriend and kiss as well.

In fact, you were each other’s first everything.

And you'd also be each other’s last.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: One of my favorite requests to write, it was so fun picturing the beginning of their relationship!

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[loganbcrnes]

Captain Syverson & August Walker in the viking era (part 1?)

ok i just love a good old viking headcanon. I cannot stop imagining a bunch of my favourite characters in the viking era, totally feral and just fucking all the time sjdjsjd.

Henrys characters fit perfect for this era with their gruff beefy look. also this turned out kinda soft??? anyways enjoy!!

might do a part 2 if anyone is interested, just let me know! readers body type and ethnicity isnt described.

No warning, but mentions of smut, everything is consensual even though it may not seem it lol.

Captain Syverson

Sy grew up on a farm with his mother and father. he'd definitely be of Norwegian heritage. a farm boy at heart, grew up to be a fierce warrior after his parents were killed. Everyone feared The Captain, rumors spread like wildfire, to the point people thought he was sent from the Gods, or that he was a warrior god himself. he'd sail the seas around the world raiding, pillaging and trading. but deep down he was a romantic at heart and a traditional man. He longed for devoted love, a love he saw in his parents. He waited for a long time before he would finally meet you. because deep down, he wanted to go back to the farm, live a peaceful life as a husband to his wife and a father to his children.

eventually he would meet you, a woman who was taken from her home to be a slave to a king in Sweden. As he was pillaging the town to kill the king, he saw you in a farm house, a man was trying to assault you. Sy struck his sword through the man and he fell to the ground. You was wearing a light blue long-sleeved top with a brown skirt, but oh you were so beautiful. It was love at first sight even when the reader punched Sy in the face and ran away from the town into the forest. Sy knew from there that the reader was to be his wife.

Half the time Sy was feral, it was the only thing that could get him through the raids. He could let his inner beast come through. A couple of days later, trying to find you, he saw you washing yourself by a waterfall. He hid behind a big rock so he could watch you. He watched as you were drying your hair off, your body sun-kissed by the summer sun. He felt his cock harden as he looked your ass and breasts, so plumb and his for the taking.

As he came into view, you gasped as you saw him. He looked at you up and down, taking in your nakedness. Your breasts hardened at the cool wind blowing, but also because of the giant man staring at you. Your pussy on display, he wanted to taste you so bad.

Before you know it he has you pinned down, you let out a startled scream as he nuzzled his face into your neck, smelling your sweet scent. You knew this was wrong, you did not know this man, but something about it felt good. He was huge, while his hands were rough, touching you everywhere, even your most private areas which you blushed and looked away. His touch was still soft.

"W-what do you want from me?" You asked, unsure what to do. "Need you" Sy mumbled into your neck. "Please" You hear him whisper. Next thing you know you are being pounded into the dirt. You moan and scream to the point you are afraid someone will hear, his balls slap against your ass with each thrust. His broad thick hairy body wraps around your body. His pubic hair rubbing against your clit. You were so aroused that it didn't even hurt when he slid in, taking your virginity and filling you up with his seed. Oh there was a lot of seed, to the point you thought this was unusual. But you did not care, you were so far gone and the sexiest man was above you fucking and breeding you to the halt.

August Walker

August Walker, known as the king of Denmark to the people, was a Noble and commanding king, but harsh and silent. He was dominating, successfully winning every raid and war. other kings and queens were afraid of him. no one dared to disobey him. Many wandered if this man was even capable of love, because all they saw was a murderous man who got what he wanted every time.

He grew up with a cruel father, who would beat him and his mother after coming home drunk every night. After he killed his own father, August looked after his mother when she grew sick. Ever since her death he has always been alone.

Until one day.

In the middle of a raid, August all bloodied from the killing, saw a woman fighting off men as young girls and boys were standing behind her terrified. The woman was striking, and fierce. Never holding down even though he could see the exhaustion on your face and body. Oh your body. He could not see your curves due to the armor, but he knew you were beautiful, that made his cock harden.

after a successful raid, sitting at the high table in front of his warriors and civilians alike, they celebrated. you face appeared and he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Never has he felt this way before, he couldn't quite put his finger on what he was feeling, lust?, romance? maybe both? who knows. Only thing he knew certain off was that he wanted you in his bed that night. Upon meeting him, you were stubborn. You heard the rumors about this man. He fucked anything that moved and he killed anyone that pissed him off. Your attitude shocked him as no one treated him in such a manner, but it just made him want you more. You both did not leave the bedroom for 3 days. August lay awake as you cuddled him from the side. He looked at you, thinking of a life he could have with you, but for the type of man he is, he did not think he deserved such a life. But over time you proved him otherwise, with your stubborn nature, you brought four daughters and a son to the world who were equally stubborn. Now he cannot picture a life without the six of you. promising himself he will be a better father than what his own father was.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 4

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1793

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“You didn't eat.”  

You don’t flinch at the intrusion of his voice, not this time. While it was peaceful without his deep tone in your ear, you knew him finding you was inevitable, and honestly, you’re surprised it took him this long. Although, it’s possible that he didn’t need to find you at all; he could have been watching you from afar. Just because you haven’t seen his face in almost twenty-four hours doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen yours, and you’ve certainly provided him with an unobstructed view. But then you wonder why he hasn’t dragged you back to your room. 

You weren’t going to run. You just needed to see it, feel it, for yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s let you be; why he’s not scolding you until your brain melts. Maybe he knows that you won’t have logic overpowering your emotions when it comes to this, because even if you had some semblance of which direction to go in, you wouldn’t know what to do once you got there. To be anywhere other than here, like it or not you need him. You need his guidance and support, and worst of all, his permission.

“I ate some of it,” you confess. 

“Not enough,” he says. 

When he steps in front of you, his body eclipses the sun. The field around you untouched by his shadow still radiates its vibrant shades while you sit in the darkness he is creating. You look up, and his blond hair is glowing almost blindly from the backlight of the sun.

“Why are you out here, Angel?”

You turn your attention to your hand that’s nestled in the grass. “I had to see if it was real,” you say softly as you twirl your finger around a green blade.

He hums. “And are you satisfied with what you've found?”

Satisfied? You could scoff. What a foolish question; a disrespectful question. You can’t be satisfied with what you don’t understand. Feeling the dirt between your fingers and toes doesn’t provide you with the wealth of clarity he has been denying you. Clarity that you’re owed. 

“Come on,” he says at your lack of reply, reaching out a hand. “Out of the grass.”

“Tell me what this place is,” you say.

“I can explain it to you later. You’re not completely healed and we need to—”

“No,” you snap, meeting his eyes. “Now. Explain it to me now.”

Jake sighs, his hand dropping back to his side. “Angel—”

“I could become a lot more difficult, you know.”

He lets out a huff of a chuckle. Little crinkles form in the corners of his eyes. “Yes, I do know.”

“Then tell me.”

His smile settles. He mutters something under his breath before he glances over your head to the structure behind you. When you turn to get a look at what has stolen his attention, you find only an empty doorway. 

“You want me to like you, don’t you?” you ask, knowing that will draw him back to you. 

A blond brow raises in curiosity and suspicion. “This will make you like me?”

“It would help,” you lie. “The truth is important to me, and I don’t understand how you can expect me to want to be here if I have no clue what ‘here’ is.”

As he bites the inside of his cheek, you begin to worry that the promise of your affection is not a strong enough offer—that he might want more than just your words, he’ll want proof that you intend to follow through with what you say by your actions—but then he turns where he stands and lowers himself into the grass beside you. He’s close, and when his wing brushes over yours as he makes himself comfortable, he’s quick to pull it away, as if your feathers could set his aflame. 

Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before he rests his elbows on his bent knees. “It’s called The Tower,” he eventually says. “It was a prison, technically, until about two months ago.”

“A prison,” you repeat. “How fitting.”

He shoots you a look. You’ve offended him and you need to reign yourself in. “If you bothered to behave, it wouldn’t have to feel like one,” he informs you.

You hold back from rolling your eyes. You’re the textbook definition of a prisoner and you both know it. He can deny it to your face all he wants, but you have a right to feel like this place is a prison, even if it doesn’t exactly have the look of a prison. At least, not where you’re from. You don’t know of many ‘cells’ that include wardrobes, open windows, double beds with thick coverings, and fireplaces. Before you left your room you were imagining many possibilities for the cage you’ve been kept in, but among those were large estate or small castle, not a home for the naughty winged people.

“It’s awfully fancy for a prison,” you say.

“Our offenses weren’t so horrible.”

Our? 

Your brows almost shoot off your forehead until you take a half-second to soak it in and then accept the shame of being shocked. “Of course, you’re a criminal,” you say, nodding to yourself. “Did you kidnap a few other innocents and turn them into monsters, too?”

Jake doesn’t look you in the eye as he swallows hard, so you turn your head back to the horizon. “You’re not a monster, Angel. You’re perfect,” he tells you, then shakes his head. “But no. There were no others. I broke a rule—the same rule—a few times, which got me three separate six-month sentences in five years. Four months into my last one, the prison was dissolved here and set up elsewhere. Everyone was released; I stayed.”

Your brow pinches. “Why would you stay in the place you were captive?”

“I liked my room—well, your room right now. I liked the view. I thought it would be a good place for us once you joined me,” he says. “Secluded. Intimate.” 

Stomach flipping, your heartbeat gives a sharp thud. Instinctually, you think to move away, make an early retreat back to your room, but for once he’s actually answering your questions and you can’t sacrifice that in case you’re never given the same chance.

“What was the rule that you broke?” you ask. 

“Out past curfew, so to speak.”

“Out where?”

Jake goes silent, contemplating, then he says, “That's enough for now.”

But it’s not enough for you. “Out where?” you press to no response, so with a huff, you push off the ground to stand. 

He grabs your wrist as you’re about to take a step. “Sit,” he says. “I'll tell you if you stay.” 

Subtly smirking at the win, you return to the grass. 

Jake blows out a breath. “The Below,” he tells you.

“The Below…” You roll the words around on your tongue. They mean nothing to you until Jake makes a face like he might come to regret what he’s just done, and then they mean everything. “My world?”

Jake groans. “How many times do I have to tell you that that is not your—”

“You were there more than just that one time?” you interrupt, stunned that you momentarily forgot that your home is where he met you. It must have been the anger or fear or lasting daze from the week of pain, but somehow it didn’t register that you could potentially return as well. “How?”

“No more questions,” he scolds.  

“But I thought you wanted me to like you,” you counter. 

Shifting to sit on your hip with your legs bent at your side, you set your hand on top of his. He stares at the new touch, then his thumb begins to rub along the line of your index finger in soft, slow motions. 

He doesn’t stop his staring. He doesn’t stop his thumb’s gentle caressing. “Yes, I was there more than just that one time.”

Despite your carefully restrained excitement at the plethora of new information, you forget the game you’re playing and jerk your hand away from his just as he’s about to intertwine your fingers. “So you can go whenever you want?” you ask. “Then take me.”

At the demand, his teeth clench, jawline sharpening. “No, I cannot go whenever I want, and no, I am not taking you.”

“Why not!”

“Because you are right where you should be,” he says decisively. 

You feel his heightening irritation, so you quickly place your palm on his shoulder and slide it down to his toned bicep where it stays. 

“I just want to see it,” you tell him before you scoot yourself closer to his side, your hip a couple inches shy of pressing against his. He looks down to where your bodies are nearly touching, then back up at you. You try a light smile. “Please, Jake.”

His eyes lock on to your smile, your lips. He darts his tongue out to wet his own, and you prepare yourself for the kiss you’re sure he’s about to give you—a kiss you won’t say no to if it helps get you home—but it’s a kiss that never comes. He just thinks; drinks in your smile and thinks. 

The green of his irises in the sunlight is overwhelming when directed at you for such a long pause, and you don’t initially notice when he opens his mouth. 

“If you show me that you can listen to me and do as I tell you, I’ll consider it,” he finally says. 

Your head flinches back, mind immediately going to the worst of what he could want from you. “What will you be telling me to do?” 

“To start, you’re going back inside. You haven’t finished healing and because you took yourself on a little adventure, you stressed your wing and now part of it is inflamed. You need rest.”

You must have been so mentally preoccupied that you blocked out all physical transmission to your brain because it’s only when he says it that you feel the return of the ache.  

“And you’re going to eat,” he continues. “Everything, this time.”

“Fine,” you relent. 

“You’re going to wear something made of more comfortable fabric than that,” he gestures to your smock, “And you’re going to stop arguing with me over every damn thing. You can’t change what’s been done, so being pissed at me doesn’t do you any good.”

It takes extra effort to muster up an agreement to that last one. Your swallow you can only compare to trying to get down a sponge soaked in wet cement. “Fine,” you grit out.

“Fine,” he says, standing. He extends his hand out toward you again. “Let’s see if you’re capable of behaving, Angel.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me @eloquentdreamer

[mncxbe]

what do you think about enemies to lovers with akutagawa x ada fem!reader with a really big sexual tension between them?

Yes. Just yes🫡 that's all I have to say. Hope you like it♡

•☆○

Laced♡

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ one bed trope

Akutagawa didn't know how he ended up like this, sharing a bed with you in a crappy motel room in Shinjuku. He took a deep breath in, feeling the thin particles of dust tickle his nose and sneezed, mentally cursing his overly sensitive body.

From the other side of mattress you mumbled a half-hearted 'Bless you'

"Oh shut up" he hissed, his head snapping in your direction. You were laying on your side close to the edge of the ragged futon, a chiffon robe wrapped loosely around your frame. The neon lights that filtered through the windows illuminated your figure well enough for Akutagawa to make out the little bird drawings that adorned your nightgown.

"Your voice is pissing me off" he added, voice laced with venom as he took in your figure.

"Then stop sneezing and coughing every five minutes. I'm trying to sleep" you replied in a casual tone which only fueled Akutagawa's anger.

God, how he hated you and your composed demeanour; a futile attempt to prove that you were better than him. He vividly recalls your first encounter when his former mentor introduced you to him and the way your eyes scanned his figure with pure amusement. Oh, he resented the way you always looked down on him, thinking that you were superior only because you were working at the Agency.

The fact that you were constantly competing for Dazai's praise only made things worse. Each time the brunette would pair you up for a mission you'd go out of your way to ensure that you did just a tad bit better than him, whether it was stealing the target's phone, a classified file or simply taking extra credit.

And what was worse was that this wasn't even a fair competition: no matter how hard he tried to prove himself to his former mentor, you'd still get all the 'Good job Y/N'. All you had to do was breathe and Dazai would shower you with praise. It was so easy for you and it filled him with burning rage, a fire that grew hotter inside him by the minute; you were utterly insufferable and yet...

Laying beside you in this god forgotten room, Akutagawa couldn't bring himself to hurt you. He knew he could; you were both far away from home and the mission Dazai assigned you was dangerous. If you were to get injured it wouldn't come as a surprise. Plus, your ability was no match to his so he could easily kill you, destroying the source of all his anger and pent up frustration that plagued him day and night.

Still, something was holding him back; a force that he could not explain. He simply scoffed, gritting his teeth.

"I cannot fucking control it. Get your own room if you really can't stand my coughing."

You remained silent and the man cursed under his breath. After a while you rolled on your back and sighed.

"It's too hot in here."

"It's the middle of August, what did you expect?"

"Some air conditioning maybe?" you said in that condescending tone he so resented.

"You're so irritating." he stated, not daring to look at you. He knew that if he did he wouldn't be able to keep up this act and God knows what he'd do.

"Come on Ryuu. I know you don't actually hate me. You're just mad about Dazai liking me better"

Akutagawa's body tensed upon hearing your words. "Don't call me that."

"What, Ryuu? Why not?" you asked innocently.

"Because you know I can't stand it." he lied. He did in fact love the way his name rolled off your lips; it was so soothing but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. "And don't drag Dazai into this."

You let out a low chuckle "But he is part of this. He's actually the reason for all this. For us and-"

"There's no such thing as us" he spat, nails digging deep into the calloused skin of his palms.

He could feel you scoot closer to him, one of your hands gently brushing a strand of charcoal hair from his face.

"Isn't it?"

Your words lingered between the two of you, a heavy, unspoken truth. There was no you but both of you somehow wished there was. Despite all the resentment he bore towards you, Akutagawa knew there was something more to his feelings. He couldn't exactly pin-point what it was tho, but it seemed that you shared the same thought.

"What are we?" you asked eventually, fingertips sliding along his jawline as you moved even closer to him.

Your touch sent goosebumps all over his body, igniting his skin. Yet he didn't push you away. Instead, he turned to his side to face you.

"What do you think we are? We're rivals for fuck's sake" he stated and you would've believed him if it weren't for his arm which wrapped around your waist.

"Are enemies usually so desperate for each other?" you chuckled, cupping his face.

"I'm not desperate" he hummed as he began caressing the side of your body. His fingers traced the outline of your body over your robe, languidly sliding back and forth from your hip up your waist and along your ribs; causing you to shudder.

"You sure are desperate tho" he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His slender fingers hooked under the loosely tied knot of your robe, undoing it.

A light hum escaped your lips when he touched your bare skin.

"Hey Ryuu." you purred, threading your fingers through his hair "Do you think things would've been different if we weren't in different organizations?"

"Not at all. I'd still hate you" he said plainly. Akutagawa was completely entranced by you; his mouth voiced of abhorrence but his hands spoke another language, gently cupping one of your breasts as he kneaded your soft flesh.

He pulled you closer until your lips were mere mere inches apart. "You don't think you could ever like me, do you? It would be so ridiculous."

"Really?" With a mischevious smirk on your lips you took his hand from your breast and guided it between your legs; Akutagawa gasped as his fingers brushed against your wet panties. "I think I like you already."

"You little..." he cursed under his breath as he closed the distance between you, lips finding your own. He kissed you deeply, feverishly and pushed you onto your back, climbing on top of you.

When he eventually broke the kiss he looked down at you, trying to ignore his forming bulge that pressed against your thigh.

You only giggled, tracing your thumb over his lower lip. "How about you put that mouth of yours to good use, hm?" you teased but Akutagawa noted the hint of urgency in your voice.

With a sly smirk on his face he slowly moved lower onto you, tracing feathery kisses along your heated skin until the nestled himself between your thighs. Each touch elicited sweet sounds from you which echoed through his entire being.

Before he hooked his arms over your thighs to keep you close your gazes met for s brief moment and he nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"As you wish, pretty girl"

[kamaluhkhan]

we were wild and fluorescent (come home to my heart)

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: nostalgia + fluff + a bit of a *steamy* ending ; mentions of sex; swearing; conrad and reader drink alcohol; reader is a competitive swimmer + deals with a lot of pressure; complicated family dynamics (reader has two younger siblings + is eldest daughter); pop culture references (it book/movie, percy jackson series), this chapter is very long + ending is a little cheesy !!

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije, @drikawinchester, @maybankslover, @junnniiieee07, @elcpsstuff, @fangirl-kimora, @redbierd, @starkeylover, @serrendiipty, @jackierose902109, @lonelywitchv2, @c4rpediem-s, @teensyflowur, @peteronesgf, @percysaidnever

a/n: i literally cannot express how much it means to me that people are reading + enjoying my work!! thank you endlessly for following this story. this chapter is mostly fluff with a lot of banter between the reader and conrad + nostalgia. i'm thinking this will be the last part (....unless?) so i hope you enjoy it :)

part one | part two | part three

on a summer afternoon / i get to thinkin' 'bout the hazy days / under august shade that i used to spend with you (khai dreams, “sunkissed”)

now — summer age 18

you’re already frustrated when you walk over to the beck house, and when the person you least want to answer the door opens it, your mood goes from bad to worse.

"hey. is jere home?" you ask, peering behind conrad to see if someone else, anyone else is there. this is the first time since your argument that you and he were alone together, and you really don't want to look him in the eye. he doesn't look too thrilled to see you standing on his porch, either. he looks at you with tired eyes, wearing a black, short-sleeved rashguard and hair dripping wet. 

"no, sorry." 

"how about steven?"

conrad shakes his head and droplets of water go flying. he says something about prep for the debutante ball.

you exhale sharply, upset that your backup plan just fell through. "okay, bye."

you start walking away, but conrad calls your name. 

"everything okay?"

you're surprised by his follow-up question — suspicious, even. given the harsh words you'd exchanged the last time you were together, you assumed that conrad didn't very much care to prolong a conversation with you, much less whether or not you were okay. whatever his intentions are, you don't really have time to go down this road. 

"everything's fine," you answer loudly, still forging ahead.

"come on, y/n. i know you." 

your hands clench into fists at his words and you finally stop in your tracks. 

"conrad," you huff, turning around to face him. "i really don't have time for this." 

"look, i'm not…." conrad sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "i'm not trying to start anything. you seem a little stressed, and if there's anything i can do….just, let me be there for you."

conrad used to always be there for you in situations like these, and you ignored the sharp pain in your heart earlier when you decided he couldn't be this time. you really, really, really want to stay mad at him — you certainly have enough reasons to be for several lifetimes — but the gentleness of conrad's tone calms you down as much as it throws you off. instinctively, you feel your hands unclench, your heartbeat slow down. 

“so, what’s wrong?”

you sigh. your siblings had planned an overnight trip with their friends at a campground about 3 hours away. they were meant to leave this afternoon, but the chaperones just cancelled — one had car trouble and the other a work emergency. now, they didn’t have a ride or adult supervision, which left you to come up with an alternative, lest you want to spend the rest of your summer drying your siblings’ tears and dealing with a lengthy guilt trip from your mother (who, conveniently, has plans this weekend and can’t reschedule). you left that last part out of your story to conrad, explaining only the basic components of your dilemma.

“but, it’s fine. i’ll sort something out.” as you wait for conrad to respond, you’re already running through a few other alternatives in your mind. you’re just in the middle of estimating the amount of money you would spend on gas when conrad says:

"well, i can come with you." 

you quirk your eyebrow at him. “yeah, you don’t need —”

“you’ll need two cars — and two drivers — to get them there, right? i'm not doing anything right now, or tomorrow.”

“it’s not your problem, conrad. i’ll figure something out —”

“look, you have three options," he interrupts, tilting his head at you. "one, you take two trips yourself to get them all there, which means you’d spend around 10 hours driving each way and waste a ton of money on gas.”

you stiffen. 

you hate that he knows exactly how your brain works….

“two, the twins have to cancel their trip, and you spend the rest of the summer with your siblings upset at you and your mom suggesting that you’re a bad sister, which is not true.”

you hate that he understands exactly the situation you’re in….

“three, you let me help you.”

….and you hate that he always insists on being helpful.

that was the real reason that you didn’t want to ask conrad — because you suspected that he might offer to help regardless of the tension between you two. the conrad you remember was always concerned with doing the right thing, no matter what, and despite how different he’s acting this summer, you knew that caring boy was still there, deep down.

sometimes, you hate being right — it can get a bit tedious.

conrad waits for you to answer, but he obviously knows you well enough to guess your decision. you don’t find the prospect of camping with conrad particularly appealing, but you’re desperate.

you tell conrad to be ready to leave in an hour, before walking back to your place to tell your siblings the good news.

a little over an hour later, your siblings, their friends — devi, khadija, kai, and leo — and all the camping supplies are split in between your and conrad’s cars. you decided to divide the group into threes: you’d drive your sister, khadija and leo; and conrad would drive your brother, devi, and kai. once everyone’s buckled in, you and conrad close the trunk of your respective cars and turn to each other.

“so, we’ve got a spot booked at stardust falls, but the plan is to stop halfway —”

“at sophie’s for a bite to eat,” conrad finishes, a smile creeping on his face. “i know the drill.”

you bite back a smile yourself before nodding at him and getting in the driver's seat.

as your sister cues up a playlist — you had just made her watch lemonade mouth so she was currently obsessed with hayley kiyoko and her music — you get lost in memories of summers past. 

it was a tradition, many years ago: your siblings were too young to join, so for one weekend in late august it was you, conrad, jeremiah, belly, and steven with susannah and laurel, the seven of you piled into a minivan for an overnight camping trip. you spent the drive blasting music and singing along, playing ‘i spy’ while gorging on goldfish crackers and sunny d. about halfway through, there would be a pit stop to refill the gas tank, stock up on snacks, and get something to eat from the nearby diner. you would always get waffles with extra whipped cream and conrad would get chocolate chip pancakes, and you’d always split the food between you. once you got to stardust falls, you’d spend the afternoon swimming and sunbathing, and the night roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, stargazing and whispering until sunrise. 

as much as you loved laurel and susannah, you and conrad would dream of getting your driver’s licence and being able to continue the tradition with just the kids. you never got the chance; it was only five years ago, when you were the same age as your siblings now, that you had gone on your last camping trip to the same location. 

it seems your dreams were finally coming true — just not in the way you expected.

when you get to sophie’s diner, you’re relieved to have a chance to stretch your legs. the eight of you get a familiar booth in the right corner and you find yourself squeezed between devi and the window. the waiter distributes menus to everyone, and it isn’t until you look down that you see it: your initials next to ‘CF’. last time you were here, the five of you all carved your initials onto the table when the moms weren’t looking. you forgot that you’d placed yours right next to conrad’s; to be fair, you were always sitting next to each other. now he’s at the other end of the table on the opposite side, examining the menu carefully even after being here so many times. 

this time, you just get a coffee and steal some bacon from your brother; conrad doesn’t get anything, claiming he isn’t hungry, until your sister offers him the rest of her french toast, which he practically inhales. after, you and conrad fill up on gas while your siblings and their friends go into the store for some snacks. 

“hey, can you get me some sour patch kids?” you ask your brother, handing him a $5 bill. your brother nods and starts walking away; you glance at conrad, then add: “and some m&m’s, too!” to which your brother offers a thumbs up. 

“thanks,” conrad says. he removes the nozzle and sticks it into the gas tank; you do the same, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but silence between you.

“does listening to the lightning thief musical on repeat make your brother a theatre kid?” 

you turn to face conrad, who’s already looking at you with a lopsided smile. 

“i think it makes him more of a percy jackson kid,” you decide.

“well, he has good taste. i didn’t even know there was a percy jackson musical,” conrad adds. 

“i know, right?” you gush. “my brother and kai went to see it off broadway, and of course i had to chaperone, but i’m so glad i did because how, in the name of all the gods, did we not know this existed?”

conrad laughs. “we would have been obsessed,” he agrees. 

you smile, feeling yourself hit by another wave of nostalgia. 

when you were younger, you, conrad, jeremiah, steven, and belly loved the percy jackson series, rotating the books between the five of you until everyone had read them, the covers well-worn and sand stuck between the pages. so, for belly’s 9th birthday, laurel wrote out a prophecy with an elaborate quest for the five of you to go on - something about searching for poseidon's missing trident - while susannah used the time to fashion the backyard into your very own camp half-blood. you each got ‘assigned’ a godly parent: apollo for jeremiah, ever the sunshine boy; hermes for steven, the trickster of the group; aphrodite for belly, who looked at the world with rose coloured glasses; poseidon for you, because you loved the water; and athena for conrad, wise beyond his years. 

yes, your heart did skip a beat, because of what a perfect coincidence — that conrad was essentially the annabeth to your percy. when would the two of you share the best underwater kiss of all time? 

after a fun-filled afternoon, you each took home a necklace filled with clay beads, as was tradition at the fictional camp half-blood. even after summer ended, you would always wear yours in between swim competitions and practice. somewhere along the way, you misplaced it; it was probably left on the chlorine soaked floor of a locker room. you wondered if the others still had theirs, if conrad even remembered. 

he’s looking at you now with such wistfulness, you have a feeling he does. when he looks at you like that, it’s easy to forget that you’re mad at him and he broke your heart. scratch that: you’re mad at him because he broke your heart. 

and, not that it solves everything between you, but he’s here and didn’t have to be, and that maybe possibly heals something inside you. 

before you can continue the conversation, a sudden click indicates that the gas tanks are full, just in time for your siblings and their friends to exit the convenience store, carrying a significant haul of snacks and drinks. 

your brother hands you the sour patch kids and m&m’s, and you toss the bag of m&m’s at conrad, which he catches effortlessly. you rip open the package with your teeth and stuff a few of the sour candies in your mouth as everyone piles back into their respective cars.

you open the door to get in the driver’s seat, but the passenger side is empty. that’s when you notice that your sister and devi were still walking back from the store, taking their time. your sister laughs a little louder than usual, her smile a bit brighter when devi bends down to steal a sip of her drink. she’s wearing a jacket that you’ve never seen and probably belongs to devi, and your sister’s pair of sunglasses now rests on devi’s head. technically the sunglasses were yours, before you passed them down to your sister, but still — it’s adorable. devi winks at your sister before slipping into the backseat of conrad's car. your sister sighs contently before freezing at the realisation that you witnessed the moment between them.

"what?" she asks, a little flustered.

something makes you glance over your shoulder at conrad, who you now realise had seen the interaction between your sister and devi as well. beside him, the door to the driver’s side is also open, but he doesn’t get in. instead, conrad raises his eyebrows at you and smiles knowingly.

“nothing,” you say, smiling back at conrad, then at your sister. “but hurry up, if you want to make it to the falls before sundown.”

your sister mumbles something and gets in the car, while you check the route one more time. you tell conrad which one has the least amount of traffic, and soon enough, you’re on the road again.

conrad follows closely behind you, never allowing more than a car between before catching up. you glance in the rearview mirror and see your brother belting the words to what you assume is the percy jackson musical, and conrad is even bopping his head along. in your car, your sister is busy reading the song of achilles while the others in the back are relatively quiet. 

“so what’s going on with you and discount james dean?” your sister suddenly asks. she puts her book down, reaches over into the cupholder to grab a few sour patch kids. 

you laugh at the nickname, even if the answer disappoints you, just a bit.

“nothing.” 

out of the corner of your eye, you can glimpse your sister roll her eyes. 

“that seems to be your favourite word today,” she notes.

“fine, how about this for a change of pace….there was definitely something earlier between you and devi.”  

your sister’s jaw drops and she turns around to see if her friends heard, but khadija is asleep and leo has his headphones on, looking down at his phone.

“y/n!” 

“what!” you mock her incredulous tone. “you’re not fooling anyone.”

“i’m not…we’re not…” your sister stumbles over her words, turning her head sharply to face out the window. she plays with the sleeve of devi’s jacket, which she’s still wearing despite it almost being 85 degrees. the same music as before fills the space, and hayley kiyoko sings about girls liking girls as you wait for your sister to answer. 

she finally sighs when the song ends. “i like her, okay? but we’re just friends.”

at her words, you’re overwhelmed by an eerie sense of deja vu. if you could have done things differently, maybe you would have. and maybe, just maybe, you can help your sister have a better outcome — whatever that means for her. 

“look, kid, i know it feels like the end of the world, but you have options,” you promise. “one, you tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way; your relationship is forever ruined and your other friends have to choose sides —”

“y/n! seriously?”

“i’m just preparing you for the worst case scenario,” you defend, exiting the highway. “the best case scenario is that you tell her how you feel, or she feels the same way and beats you to it, and it all works out. and there is, of course, the secret third option.”

“what’s that?”

you shrug. “easy. you never cross that line.” you follow the signs that lead you to your destination.

“and bottle up my feelings forever,” your sister grumbles. “is that what you and conrad did?”

you make a right into the campground and put the car in park; conrad’s car pulls up next to you a few seconds later. you turn off the engine.

“not exactly.”

_________________________________________

you and conrad unpack the trunks as your siblings and their friends set up their tents. you hear their giddy banter as they plan how to spend the rest of the afternoon, as well as the sleeping arrangements. you smile to yourself when you hear devi suggest that she and your sister share a tent. the cars are pretty much empty except for some food to keep away animals, but you notice that not everything made the trip.

you double check your car, then conrad’s, before calling over your brother.

“yo, what happened to my bag?” you ask him. 

“i thought it was your swim stuff, so i took it out of the trunk,” he explains. “did you need it?”

“oh no, no. it just had all my clothes, my sleeping bag and my tent,” you say sarcastically. “no big deal.”

your brother gives you a thumbs up, clearly not getting the message. he seems more interested in kai, who's currently unpacking his guitar.

“cool,” he says before walking back to his friends. 

you huff and close your trunk. at least there is some balance in the universe: the mosquito repellant was in your bag, and your brother is usually their favourite meal. you always have afterbite, or you would have, if you had your stuff with you. 

thankfully, you had your bathing suit underneath your clothes, and you could sleep in the backseat, even if it wasn’t the most comfortable…

“everything okay?” conrad sneaks up behind you.

“turns out none of my stuff is here.” you shrug. “but it’s fine.”

“i mean, we could share my stuff,” conrad offers, lifting up his bag. knowing him, he’s probably overprepared and carefully packed, even with only an hour’s notice.

you look at him for a second. 

“let’s sort that out later, yeah?” you decide, ignoring how the prospect of wearing his clothes, sharing a tent with him, makes your heart beat faster. “i’m itching to go for a swim.”

taking advantage of the late afternoon sun, you all slather on sunscreen, throw on colourful swimsuits with sunglasses, and relax near the water. it’s only a short walk away from where you’d set up camp, and all your tents (well, except yours) are still in view. your brother, leo, and khadija are sitting down on their towels while playing cards. kai has borrowed your sister’s copy of the song of achilles to read. your sister and devi are, splashing each other in the water. conrad is reading a worn of stephen king’s it, a bottle of lemonade resting next to him.    

khadija brought her wireless speaker, and out of all your siblings’ friends, you’re thankful that she has the best taste in music. “this is the day” by the the plays in the background of everyone’s laughter and playful banter. you swim idly in the water, let your skin absorb the sunlight, and take it all in.

as much as you were stressed this morning, you’re practically floating with joy now. you feel like a kid again — and it finally feels like summer. 

your eyes land on conrad once more. he sits in the shade and you’re craving a sip of his drink, so you get out of the water and settle down next to him like it’s the most natural thing for you to do. you’re dripping on his towel, but he doesn’t seem to care; he hands you the bottle of lemonade without a word. you take a sip, surprised that it’s slightly bitter. 

“does this have vodka in it?” you cough. 

“yeah,” conrad answers, putting his book down. he takes off his sunglasses and rests them on his head. “i can get you something else, if you want.”

you shake your head and take another sip. “it’s fine. just don’t let the kids drink any alcohol, okay?”

“i won’t.” he offer you a wry smile. “but you know they’re not kids, right? they’re teenagers.”

“it feels weird calling them teenagers,” you say. he’s sitting up with his knees bent, and you lay down next to him, but not before stealing his sunglasses to shield your eyes. the sun moved slightly, and starts to peek through the leaves of the tree that was providing shade.

“just because we grew up, doesn’t mean they have to," you add once you're comfortable. 

conrad hums. you tilt your head to look at him and notice his eyes lingering on the tattoo below the band of your lime green bikini top. you smile — he blushes, then looks away. conrad takes the lemonade bottle back from you and swallows a mouthful. you close your eyes, let the sun wash over you.

“my mom told me you got into stanford,” he says suddenly. “that’s really cool that you get to go to california. just like you wanted, right?”

“i thought you hated horror,” you say, referencing the book you saw him reading earlier. you desperately want to change the subject — your father is still pushing princeton because of their swim team rankings, and your mother is too busy spending her free time in bars to really care. needless to say, where you’re going to college isn’t a topic you want to discuss, unless you’re looking to ruin this perfect sunny afternoon.

conrad just looks at you for a second before playing along.

“i usually do, but this guy on my football team wouldn’t shut up about stephen king, so i thought i’d give it a try. you’ve read it?”

“no, but i saw the movies. i cried so much in it: chapter two, like i was practically choking on tears in the middle of this dark theatre. my ex had no idea why i was crying so much.”

“why did you cry so much?”

you open your eyes. it takes you a beat to respond, because you never really thought about it that deeply. by now, the song has changed to david bowie’s ‘heroes,’ and watching your siblings and their friends goof off in the middle of summer makes you feel like a background character in a coming of age movie, when five years ago you would have been one of the main characters. you miss those days, almost as much as you miss what you had with the boy next to you.

“because it reminded me of this,” you admit. 

conrad lets out a small chuckle. “did i miss the summer where we fought a killer clown?”

“no, smart ass,” you shove his leg playfully. “but there were other things that were just as intimidating. like, parents who were jerks with soul-crushing expectations, and younger siblings who needed to be taken care of. drinking problems, cancer diagnoses, divorces. just…everything, you know? it was summer, we were kids, and things were just scary sometimes, but we always faced it together. and, then…”

“we grew up,” conrad finishes. 

“yeah,” you muse. you lift the sunglasses off your face to look at conrad, and he’s already gazing down at you. if you closed your eyes again, you could imagine laurel and susannah sitting by the water and gossiping, steven and jeremiah diving underwater to try and catch a fish with their bare hands, and belly laying in the sun while reading a romance novel she's probably too young to read. but all you see now is conrad, smiling at you softly with the golden sunlight shining behind him, and it makes your heart ache. 

belly mentioned that they hadn't been back here since you stopped coming to cousins. because it wasn't the same.

your voice drops to a whisper. “i'm sorry i ruined it."

"don't give yourself so much credit." his smile at you sadly. "we both made things messy; i should be sorry, too."

"are you?" 

he hesitates, finishes off the bottle of lemonade. 

"yeah," he finally says. "i'm sorry."

and it doesn’t feel like enough, but instead of worrying about what would happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after, you just focus on today. you relax back down on the towel next to conrad, and let the sunshine and sounds of summer fun wash over you.

the afternoon fades into the evening, and once everyone's dry, you get started on dinner, then dessert.

it's so familiar: the warm glow of the campfire, the smell of burnt marshmallows, the slight itch on your skin from where a mosquito must have bitten you, the pressure of conrad's knee pressed against yours. 

you get up for more graham crackers, and your sister follows you. 

"so, i hear you and conrad are sharing a tent," she teases. "you're welcome."

"why would i thank you?" you wonder, biting into a graham cracker. 

a wicked smile appears on your sister's face. "well, i was the one who told our dear brother that you wouldn't need your bag. i figured your boyfriend would have everything you need."

"conrad's not my boyfriend," you remind her, a little annoyed. you and conrad made nice earlier, but the peace between you is precarious. you aren't particularly thrilled to be in a situation where you're confined to close quarters together — much less now that you know it's been fabricated by your own sister.

"so then why are you and conrad sleeping together in a one person tent?" she challenges, crossing her arms.

"do you want me to sleep outside and get eaten by werewolves?" 

your sister rolls her eyes, but you notice how she shudders just a little bit. 

"those don't exist," she declares, her voice a little shaky. your sister is old enough to know that monsters aren't real, but you still get a kick out of scaring her - especially when she's done something to frustrate you.

"oh, sure they do," you reply easily. conrad arrives at the table next to you just in time, probably to check on those graham crackers you'd promised to get. "stardust falls is crawling with werewolves, right con?"

"no," he answers. your sister sighs with relief too soon, because conrad continues. "only on the full moon…." he makes a big show of pulling down his sleeve and checking his watch. "which is tonight, if i remember correctly." 

"but, don't worry," you wink at your sister. "devi will protect you."

there's a moment of silence between the three of you, before you and conrad burst out laughing. 

"you guys are the worst!" your sister groans. you and conrad are still laughing as she grabs an unopened bag of marshmallows and snatches the pack of graham crackers from you before storming away. 

"thanks,” you say once you’ve both calmed down. 

he grins at you, reaching over to grab an orange. “my pleasure.” 

you smile back at him before walking back to the campfire, already feeling warmth spread through your chest.

_________________________________________

when the night is at its darkest, everyone decides that it’s probably time for bed. you triple check to make sure the fire is out and all the food is away, and then everyone goes into their tent — with you as the exception.

you and conrad never circled back to whether or not you’d be staying in the tent with him, so you end up staying out by the water. 

there’s still some rustling and whispers from the tents behind you, but mostly you’re left with the soft trill of crickets, and what sounds like an owl in the distance. you’re still wearing your bikini top and cutoff shorts, even though there’s a cool breeze near the water, because you didn’t really have another option. conrad was right earlier — it’s a full moon, and you’re thankful that it provides some light. the sky is clear enough that you can also see the stars. you’re so lost in looking for constellations that you’re startled by the sudden appearance of shadow right next to you.

“shit, conrad. you gave me a heart attack!” you exclaim, just loud enough for conrad to hear and quiet enough to not wake the others.

“sorry,” he whispers back, sitting down next to you with a lantern. “i couldn’t sleep.” conrad tilts his head up. “but, i come bearing gifts.”

conrad hands you one of the mugs he’s holding — not the usual thermos you’d bring for camping, but ones that you’d find in the kitchen back at the beach house.  

in the dim light, you see that it’s your favorite mug, the same mug you’d dropped during your argument a few weeks ago. the cracked porcelain is so carefully repaired, you wouldn’t have known it was broken. 

“thanks,” you whisper. you take a sip of the lukewarm hot chocolate, but the warmth that spreads through your body is from conrad’s gesture more than anything.

conrad nods and points up at the stars. “find anything good?”

you launch into a detailed explanation of what constellations you’ve found so far — and, when that’s over, you continue making up stories like you’re david attenborough narrating a nature documentary. sure, it’s ridiculous to use a very serious british accent to suggest that king kong and godzilla are immortalised in the night sky, but it makes conrad chuckle, and you decide that’s worth all the stars in the universe.

in between stories, conrad asks: "are you cold?" 

conrad already knows the answer, because he passes you a light jacket without you saying a word. you shrug it on, and practically sink into the familiar fabric.

"so you're the one who had my varsity jacket," you realize. it smells like him now: lemon and sandalwood. 

conrad smiles sheepishly and shrugs. "it's a good jacket — what was i supposed to do, not wear it? you left it last summer."

last summer. 

the words hang heavy between you. 

 “y/n —”

“con —”

you both stop, waiting for the other to continue. there have been enough moments this summer where you’ve cut your heart open and conrad just watched you bleed. a part of you wanted him to do the same, even though you know how much it hurts. 

“why did you come back that night?” he asks. conrad is usually confident, sturdy, reliable; right now, though, he’s the most timid you’ve ever seen him.

“i needed to.”

“why?” he presses.

you bite the inside of your cheek, remembering yourself a year ago and all the pressure you felt, from your parents and coaches. you used to love swimming, and you realized too late how much competing took over your life. things weren’t perfect at home, either, but you were trying your best to guard that truth from your siblings. ironically, that was part of the reason you had distanced yourself from conrad in the months prior: you knew he would worry, and you didn't want to burden him.

you tell bits and pieces of this to conrad, cutting yourself open once more.

“i felt like i was drowning,” you admit. “i tried so hard to hide it —  just keep swimming, right? but it got to be too much. so last summer, when i had a meet nearby, i just had to see you, because i knew that you were the one person in the world who would jump in and save me.”

“i didn’t know.” is all conrad says for a moment. you don’t add anything, because you find yourself in the same position as always: vulnerable, pouring your heart out.

“what you said on the fourth — you were right,” conrad sighs. “when you came last summer, i was already mad at you for not coming back to cousins for so long, and then you were leaving again and i was hurt. and - it’s fucked up, but i wanted to hurt you, too.”

“mission accomplished,” you laugh sadly.

“i shouldn’t have said what i said that morning last summer, and i shouldn’t have ignored you after.”

“you shouldn’t have ignored me this summer, either” you add. you can’t help calling him out for his shitty behaviour lately as well.

“hey, you ignored me, too,” he points out. “and, yeah, maybe i deserved it. there’s just a lot going on and….” conrad trails off, his gaze fixed on something in the distance, where a sliver of golden sunlight peeks through the horizon. you and conrad must have been talking for hours because morning is now just around the corner. “i know i was a jerk. just please know how sorry i am — for everything.” 

you’re about to say something, but you can’t seem to find the right words. i'm sorry too didn't feel like enough. instead, you reach out and grab conrad’s hand. it’s cold in yours, but you don’t care.

“i can’t lose you,” conrad whispers, almost choking on the words. he squeezes your hand. “i can’t lose you, too.”

“i’m here, connie,” you whisper back. with your other hand, you brush some hair out of his eyes before using your thumb to wipe a stray tear from his cheek.  “and i’m really glad you’re here, too.”

throughout the entire conversation, you and conrad had moved closer together — now, your shoulders are touching and your left leg is bent over his right one. 

“did you mean what you said on the fourth?” conrad asks, his eyes searching yours. “do you regret that night?”

“i’m guessing you mean the us-having-sex part?” you reply, a gentle smirk on your face. 

conrad nods. he’s blinking faster than usual, and you can tell he’s anxious to hear your answer.

“if it ruined things between us, then i would,” you admit. you realize then that your hand is still on his cheek; you remove it, but keep the other intertwined with his. “tell me it didn’t ruin things between us, and maybe i’ll change my mind. i mean, do you regret it?”

conrad smiles at you, his shoulders relaxing. “no. that’s one thing i don’t think i’ll ever regret. that’s another thing you were right about — that night meant something to me. it meant everything.”

your heart skips a beat at the way he looks at you, tenderly, waiting for you to say something.

"yeah, me too. or, me neither. i mean, i’m sorry -” now, it’s your turn to stumble over your words, nerves getting the better of you - you take a deep breath to calm yourself. “i’m sorry for not being here; i’m sorry for hurting you; and i’m sorry for making you feel like i didn’t care, because that’s further from the truth.”

“i appreciate it,” conrad replies sincerely. “but i think we’ve apologized to each other enough for one night.”

you laugh. “yeah, i guess you’re right about that one. have any alternatives, fisher?”

conrad reaches up to caress your cheek, a gentle gesture that contrasts the mischievous smirk on his face. his eyes fall to your lips, then back to yours. “i can think of a few —”

you kiss him before he finishes his sentence.

maybe you'd never shared an underwater kiss, but kissing conrad feels as dynamic and unpredictable as the ocean. 

when you kissed last summer, it was like a wave breaking onto the shore: the built up anticipation finally coming to fruition. 

earlier this summer, at nicole’s party, kissing him felt dangerous, like swimming out into the turbulent water and realizing you’re in too deep. 

right now, his lips on yours feel like floating in water on a warm summer day. 

conrad slips his hand underneath your jacket, and you shiver when he touches your bare skin, right under the band of your bikini top where your tattoo is. you shift ever so slightly and suddenly you're tangled in his lap, feeling him strong and sturdy beneath you. one of your hands is on his thigh, while the other tangles into his hair. you tug the strands just the way you remember him liking it; he groans and kisses you with more intensity, a calm sea gradually becoming more rough.

once you’ve run out of air, you pull apart ever-so-slightly, appreciating his swollen lips, pink cheeks, and tousled hair in the early morning sunlight. you could do this for hours — drowning in him — and you're about to do it again, too, before you’re shocked back into reality.

“i knew it!” you hear your sister yell in the distance. she then adds something about your brother owing her ten dollars. you make a mental note to get them back later for betting on your love life. 

conrad laughs against your lips, then pulls away. you get up and offer him your hand, which he accepts with a smile. 

“you might wanna…” you gesture towards his messy hair, and he blushes even more despite how much he enjoyed it earlier. 

“right.” he clears his throat, runs a hand through his hair to tame it. 

“i’m gonna go get started on breakfast,” you say before walking a few steps closer to the campsite. 

you turn back around to conrad, who was frozen in place, looking at you carefully. his posture is stiffer than before, and it takes you a second to realize why: he’d been here before. he’d watched you leave one too many times.

not this time, though. this time, you reach out your hand — a peace offering, a promise. 

summer will end soon, and maybe you aren’t quite sure what the future holds once it does.

“so, are you coming with me or not?” 

but you do know this: when you get back to the beach house, you’ll go surfing with the fisher boys, watch movies and eat sour candy with belly, play video games with steven and jere. you’ll sneak out to meet conrad, then watch the sunrise together. the five of you will have bonfires on the beach, maybe even inviting your siblings and their friends, and roast marshmallows. susannah will host another pool party and you’ll feel conrad’s arm wrapped around your waist; he’ll kiss your cheek, sitting on the edge of the pool, and you'll jump in the water, bringing him under with you, before kissing him back. 

you'll spend one particular night in conrad's bedroom, hands and lips all over each other, trying to keep quiet, and when you search his drawers for a condom, you'll find the same necklace that you, jeremiah, steven, and belly were gifted. it holds faded clay beads painted with various symbols - a turquoise trident, a crashing wave, a rainbow, a starfish. you'll think back to how the tradition started at belly's percy jackson themed birthday, when you and conrad were 11, and susannah would give one to each of you at the end of each summer. there will be a sharp pain in your heart when you notice that some beads are missing, the years don't add up, but you'll realize, prompted by conrad's deep voice calling you back to bed, that you might be able to make up for lost time.

you'll soak up as much sunshine as you can. you’ll squeeze out every ounce of summer, and then some. you'll dust off old traditions, and make some new ones, too. you'll fill those necklaces with more clay beads.

and you'll always - always - come back home.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 14

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

August marches you down the hallway, his fingertips a vice on your neck. You hiss as your feet bounce on the floor, struggling to keep from tripping at his furious pace. He shoves you against a door as he unlocks it.

As it opens, he hurls you inside and a growl rumbles up from his chest. He flicks on the lights as you catch your breath and face him, bracing the wall to keep from falling. You watch him with a tinge in your cheeks; you can't tell if you're scared or excited.

The more you look at him, he isn't that bad to look at. Even with the scars across the side of his face and the constant arch of his thick brows. And you've seen how well-built he is. You've felt it.

His black shirt is taut across his chest as he thumbs off his leather boots and sneers at you, "why are you looking at me like that, girl? I'm about to break you."

"Was just thinking, you're kinda cute," you beams and wring your hands together bashfully, "maybe if you shaved--"

"Do you know how to shut up?" He snarls.

"I'm sorry, sir," you bat your lashes, "is that good? Should I call you sir? Or do you like daddy?"

"What the fuck?" He hisses. "What is wrong with you?"

"Come on, daddy," you flutter over to him as he stands straight and you grab his thick biceps, "go on and break me."

"You are truly insane."

"Pot, kettle," you sing as you drag your hands across his chest and down his stomach.

"You're playing with fire," he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms above you. "Why are you here if it hurt so goddamn much?"

You pout up at him, your eyes stinging for just a moment before you quell the sudden tide, "you took something special so you better make it mean something."

"Girl," he shakes his head.

"You must like me if you did all that," you wiggle your body as he keeps your arms trapped above you, "come on... I wore cute panties for you."

He shivers and grits his teeth. He lets you go and nudges you away from him.

"This isn't gonna be something sweet," he rasps, "don't you understand?"

You smirk at him, a flutter in your core which could as easily be horror as excitement, "come on, Auggy," you pull up your dress, "let's have some more fun."

He glares at you. There's war in his eyes. He's fighting himself. Good, he should suffer too.

You sweep your dress off, revealing your naked chest and cute flower-specked panties. He sucks in air and you shake your chest at him. You reach again for him but he's too fast.

He grabs you, a hand on your neck, the other on the back of your head. He bowls you backward, your shoes clunking on the floor as he urges you further inside.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, girl," he growls as you cling to his forearm.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," you chirp back through your tight throat.

Another rumble escapes him as he turns you against another wall. He drops his hand from the back of your head and paws at your panties. He has you pinned as he shoves his fingers down the front and rolls over your tender bud. You're already wet with anticipation. He purrs as he feels it against his fingertips.

He rubs you firmly, teasing you, patient this time. He explores your folds, delving back and forth from your clit to your entrance, spreading your arousal as you feel his trembling beneath the surface. His blue eyes are dark as he puffs hot breaths on you. You clutch his thick bicep once more and moan.

"That's it, Auggy--"

He chokes the words from you. Your lashes flicker and you caress his arm enticingly. The friction is hot against your sensitive flesh, still wrought from your first time. You're only happy your whimpers can't rise through his tight grip.

You buck your hips, begging for more as you bite your lips, eyes cresting with hot tears as your head swells from your constrained breathing. He toys with you until your thighs quiver and you slap a hand against the wall as you tilt into him. You feel something. The pressure mounts, twisting like a coiled snake, lashing out only as his touch slickens and swirls wildly. Your eyes roll back as you spasm and cum.

His fingers glide back and he rams them into you. You yelp and clasp your hand around his sleeve. He chuckles as he fingers you roughly, stretching you as he spreads his fingers with each invasion. He drags his hand from beneath your panties and smears a wet trail up your stomach.

He fumbles with the front of his pants as his hold on you slackens enough to gulp in air. He shifts as he shimmies his pants down with one hand, tugging at both sides, then yanking down the front of his briefs. He turns his attention back on you and bends to hook an arm behind your legs. He lifts you easily, pushing between your thighs and crowding you against the wall. You hook your legs around him eagerly.

"You're still too tight," he snarls as he slips his hand beneath you and tugs aside your panties, the fabric catching in the crease of your leg. His thumb digs in behind your jaw as he feels around beneath you, guiding his tip along your entrance as he hooks his hand under your ass.

He exhales as he impales you. You babble, the fire just as scalding and violent as before. You don't understand. It should feel good this time. You hold back the pain and drone, bracing his shoulder as you rock your hips, puffing out haltingly.

"Hurts?" He taunts.

"No," you lie and roll your hips again, a little better.

"Sure," he scoffs and buries his nose against your hair, breathing over your scalp as he ruts into you from below.

He trails his hand back to grope your ass as you work against him. Your clit rubs against his pelvis, the tingle slowly building again, enough to soften the dull pain from within. You hook your hand around his neck and tilt your hips faster.

"Come on and fuck me," you challenge him as his deep grunts seep into your ears.

"Girl," he warns hotly.

"I know you can do better," you snap out, not as certain you can take any more.

He steps closer, crushing you against the wall as he squeezes your throat and digs his nails into your ass. He pounds you against the plaster, flesh clapping loudly as your spine aches. You slip your fingers up into his hair and lean forward. You nuzzle along his neck and shoulder, biting into the thick muscles there. He grunts lower.

"What--" He can't say much through his effort. He doesn't stop you as his motion picks up, fueled by the pain of your bite. You tug his hair and he tries to jerk his head away. "Crazy... fucking... girl."

He thrusts with each word, stopping on the last as he pushes himself into his limit. You moan, your climax dangling just before you, no...

You unlatch your teeth from him and huff, "is that all?"

He releases your neck and fists your hair instead, pulling you away from the wall, "not even close..." he snarls as he turns and carries you easily with him, "I told you... you're playing with fire."

He falls onto the couch with you beneath him. He quickly resumes his pace, snapping his pelvis against you as he sits back on his heels, watching the way he slides in and out. You look down to a shiver rolls through you. Oh wait, that is nice...

[tlouadditc]

Hiii, first of all I love all your content. Could you pls make a one shot or a story about y/n as a cheerleader or something else and ellie as a football player in college? <3

touchdown.

college football!ellie x cheerleader!reader.

a/n: tysm for this req!! i had fun writing this even though i have no idea what goes on in sports (oops). keep that in mind so if i got something wrong, forgive me!! also ellie has the farm!ellie haircut because thats my fav ellie. anyway, enjoy <33

warnings: smut with plot, 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, a lil bit of fluff at the beginning [if u squint!], dirty talk (a lot of it.), daddy kink [oops!!], mean ellie, teasing, short nipple play [literally one line], ruined orgasm, no aftercare [eek.] NOT PROOFREAD LOL.

it's late august, the mild heat hitting your back as you walk to your dorms. the season officially starts in a couple of days- meaning the first football game is also gonna happen in a couple days- and you're the most worked up you've ever been. the break was nice; being able to see your family consistently for a couple months was much needed. but as you opened the door to your dorm, you realized you can't reminisce about the break. get ready for the next week.

as you begin to unpack your bags, you hear the door slightly open behind you. you smile, knowing who's there already. a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips back slightly. "she's baaaaack," ellie says quietly, kissing your neck gently as she rocks your hips side to side. you chuckle slightly, turning to look at your girlfriend. "missed you, babe," you say, fully embracing her in your arms. you feel her smile into your neck. pulling back, you give her a small peck on the cheek and admire her.

"new hair?" you question, noticing a small change; the length. she steps back, nodding. "you like it?" she says, still smiling. her auburn hair was cut right to her chin with a side part plastered into it. "i love it, actually," you declare, tucking some stray hairs back behind her pierced ears. "suits you."

she grins before sitting on your bed. "enough about my changes," she begins, "how was your break? you ready for another season of being my personal cheerleader?" you laugh, "babe, i have to cheer for everyone. but my break was good, i guess. was thinking of you the entire time."

"whaaaatever," she teases, rolling her eyes playfully. "i missed you more. almost went crazy without you." ellie was always super dramatic when it came to you; the entire break, she complained about how she was gonna die if she didn't see you in the next couple of hours. it's something you loved about her.

"oh, that reminds me," you suddenly utter, rushing to your closet to grab something. "we got new outfits!"

"oh, yeah?" ellie sat up on your bed, fully attentive to the outfit in question. "let me see it." you excitedly hold it up; a black mini pleated skirt with red glittery trim on the bottom. a matching cropped tank top came with it. it had your college's mascot plastered on the front with your last name on the back.

"wow," she clears her throat, eyes blown wide while eyeing it up and down. "i think you should t-try it on." you giggle and turn to go change.

after a couple minutes, you get it on. before you leave, you assess how it fits on you; your boobs are perfectly sitting inside the tank top, making your figure look sleek and classy. the skirt, however.. bend over and your ass is completely out. you stare at yourself, taking in everything. you snap out of your daze when you hear ellie knock on the door. "babe? you good in there?" she asks, a slight tone of concern being heard. without answering, you open the door to reveal yourself.

for a few seconds, she stands there, mouth open. no words. just admiring every part of you. she moves her hands to your sides, mouthing wow as her eyes travel up and down your body. "you like?" you ask, slightly smirking as you look into her eyes.

"god, i love it," she breathes, her eyes moving from your body up to your eyes. a hand goes to your skirt, lifting it up. "but this lil' skirt's gonna distract everyone, y'know that?"

before you can respond, someone bangs at the front door, causing you both to jump. "y/n!" they yelled, "practice is starting! hurry up!"

goddamnit, you think. you look at ellie with apologetic eyes, grabbing your stuff. almost as if she can read your mind, she goes to the door and yells, "i'll see you down there, babe. tell em' i'll be late!"

practice was boring. a lot of forced small-talk with your teammates about their break, the drills were actually ass, it was a bad start to the season. ellie, who was on the other side of the field you were practicing on, was eyeing you the entire time. the way your skirt went up and revealed your ass took away every ounce of attention that was meant for her sport.

you knew what you were doing. you felt her eyes on you the entire time. anytime you had a chance to tease her when nobody was looking, you'd flip your skirt up and play it off as you fixing your outfit.

after practice, you go back to your dorm and take a quick shower. as soon as you grab your towel, your phone vibrates.

ellie: open the door

you look at the text, confused. nonetheless, you walk to the door in your towel and look through the peephole. ellie's there, waiting impatiently. you unlock the door and twist the knob to open it.

as soon as you open it, ellie forces her way in. she pushes you onto your bed, turning back to close and lock the door. when she turns back to you, you see her dark expression. she's definitely frustrated, pissed even. before you can ask any questions, she simply states:

"you think you can tease me all day and get away with it?"

you're still confused, forgetting completely about practice. when it hits you, she has a slight smirk on her face. "yeah, you remember."

she gets on top of you, planting small, but passionate kisses from your cheeks down to your collarbone. "flipping up that small fucking skirt, thinking i wouldn't do anything to you," she mumbles, pulling down the top of your towel, exposing your breasts. she cups one in each hand, running her thumb over your nipple. "these pretty fuckin' tits," she continues, "bouncing every time you jump.. fuckin' driving me crazy, y'know?"

you whimper, getting wetter by the second. "oh, you want me to fuck you, huh?" she coos, moving down to your ear. "want me to fuck you dumb? make you cum all night?" all you can do is mumble small yes's, feeding into your submission. "oh, i know, baby."

she pulls the towel off of you, fully exposing your damp body. her hands roam from your sides down to your sopping wet cunt, earning a small gasp from you. "what? you want me to touch you here, doll?" she asks, slightly in a mocking tone. you nod feverishly, opening your legs a bit. the wetness coats your inner thighs, glistening in the light above you two.

"god, so wet just for me?" she asks, looking you in the eyes. her middle finger traces along your slit, collecting your slick on her finger. you whine, opening your legs wider so she can slip a finger in you.

"what do you want? hm?" she moves right in front of your face, keeping her middle finger at your entrance. "use your words, baby."

"p-please fuck me, ellie."

"that's not the name you use. you know that."

"fuck- please, i n-need it."

"what's my name?"

you hesitate before answering quietly, "daddy."

"that's right. good girl."

she slips her middle finger into you, earning a gasp from you as you clench around her finger. she moves it in and out as you try to gain any friction from her palm. you look so needly, so helpless in this state; it turns ellie on so much. she's just looking down at you, watching you get off like a fucking dog.

"fuck, you look so good like this baby," she whispers, teasing another finger at your entrance. you pathetically whimper and hold her arm with both hands. "you want another?"

the way she asks you is in a mocking way, making you feel dumb under her touch. but it feels to good to stop now. you nod, almost crying, chasing your orgasm.

"do you deserve it, baby?" she speaks, looking you directly in your eyes. "do you really? answer me."

she's slowing down. you beg and plead for her to keep going; all you can hear are your babbles, "pleasepleaseplease daddy, i need it, i'll be good i promise, im sorry"

"you should've thought about that before you teased me, slut."

she completely removes her fingers, making you whine in frustration. you're mad, but to be fair.. you brought it on yourself.

a/n: this took so long omg writers block is an ass. anyway. might make another part, i just need more ideas if i make another.

[aspoonofsugar]

Have yo read Captive Prince? What do you think of Laurent's character? Does he foil any other characters (besides being mind to Damen's heart)?

Hi!

Yes, I have and I love Laurent <3 He has the most complex arc and is at the centre of the major conflict, so he foils several characters, who are used to explore his personality and to progress his arc.

In general, I would say three major jungian archetypes are used in Laurent's story:

Inner Child = the childish and most vulnerable part of a person, which is influenced by one's younger years. Laurent's inner child is embodied primarily by Nicaise, but also by every boy abused and raped by the Regent.

Shadow = the repressed part, which the person doesn't want to aknowledge. Laurent has severals: the Regent himself, Aimeric and Jokaste. They all embody Laurent's most negative side.

Anima/Animus = the anima is the female side of a man and the animus is the male side of a woman. It is usually used in romantic subplots to show two characters growing closer. Here, it is embodied by the bond between Laurent and Damen.

Laurent's arc is one where he integrates with Damen, but to succeed he also needs to save his inner child and to face his shadow. Or to fail and try again.

BROTHERS AND LOVERS

Laurent and Damen foil each others' brothers:

Laurent foils Kastor: both are the unfavourite child, but Laurent adores Auguste, while Kastor resents Damen. At the same time, Damen perceives them in opposite ways. Damen initially doesn't aknowledge the good in Laurent, while he doesn't see the evil in Kastor. It is as Nikandros says. At the beginning of the story, Damen sees things in black and white. By getting to know Laurent he learns complexity and that the world is in shades of grey. He integrates his own heart with Laurent's mind. His own idealism with Laurent's wisdom.

Damen foils Auguste: both are strong fighters and beloved leaders, able to inspire others. The moment Auguste dies, Laurent loses his heart and it is only with Damen that he learns to trust and to open up again. It is also through Damen that he overcomes Auguste's death and his sense of inferiority, which is carefully nurtured by the Regent. Laurent is brilliant, but his arc is about showing vulnerability and find new faith in others. He integrates his mind with Damen's heart. His wisdom with Damen's idealism.

So, as you said, Laurent is the mind to Damen's heart and has to rediscover his own interiority. He needs to love himself again. Only by doing so he can truly escape the Regent and grow up. This process of growth is the main focus of the trilogy and it happens twice:

Laurent fails to grow in the second book

Laurent succeeds and completes his growth in the third book

Let's see how.

NICAISE AND AIMERIC = LAURENT'S DARKEST HOUR

Laurent's darkest hour happens at the end of the second book. This is common for a trilogy. It is not rare for the second installement to end in a negative way. Now, The Prince's Gambit doesn't end badly. Laurent and Damen win and grow closer. Laurent even frees Damen and they have sex for the first time. Still, psychologically, Laurent risks a huge brakdown because of Nicaise and Aimeric's deaths.

Nicaise and Aimeric are two parts of Laurent:

-Nicaise is Laurent's child-self. He is petty and capricious, but he cares deeply. And yet, he can't show any vulnerability. The moment he does, he is killed. Moreover, Nicaise plaids for Laurent because he deep down thinks the Regent won't kill him. This is true for Laurent, as well:

"I didn't think he's really try to kill me" Laurent said "After everything... even after everything".

-Aimeric is Laurent's shadow. He is a young man, whose life is defined by the Regent's sexual abuse. Aimeric confuses the Regent's imitation of love with true care and fights to get it back, even if it means hurting people, who truly love him. Unconsciously, this is true for Laurent too:

"You play his games like you want to show him you can. Like you're trying to impress him. Is that it? You need to beat him at his own game? You want him to see you do it? At the expense of your positions and the lives of your men? Are you that desperate for his attention? Well, you have it. Congratulations. You must have loved it that he was obsessed enough with you that he killed his own boy to get at you. You win."

Damen's speech to Laurent is basically the same one Laurent gives Aimeric. Aimeric shines light on this specific aspect of Laurent. Laurent too still loves his uncle. He too wants his attention and on some level thinks of his uncle as his only family:

"When you lost your brother, was there someone to confort you?" "Yes," said Laurent. "In a way".

So, Nicaise and Aimeric embody Laurent's vulnerability. Nicaise is the child who still feels safe with the Regent. Aimeric is the young adult, who wants the Regent back. Both are Laurent. This is why Laurent wants to rescue them both. He grows close to Nicaise and tells him he will buy his contract and free him. He accepts Aimeric into his guard and refuses Damen's advice to send him away. And yet, the Regent uses them both against Laurent. He kills Nicaise and has Aimeric betray Laurent.

Laurent wants to help both Nicaise and Aimeric and the Regent tells him he can't. Just like he can't save himself.

According to the Regent's narrative:

Laurent is fond of Nicaise, but eventually leaves him alone out of selfishness

Laurent welcomes Aimeric in, but this is a blind spot that is used against him

By using vulnerable and abused kids, the Regent conveys to Laurent two messages. On the one hand Laurent isn't selfless enough to truly save anyone. He isn't good enough to be a protector like Auguste. On the other hand he is still foolish enough to trust others. He isn't smart enough to be a mastermind like the Regent. Too cruel and too foolish is how the Regent wants Laurent to see himself. So, that Laurent would feel trapped and cut others out.

And Laurent almost gives in, but is stopped by Damen:

"You tried to hurt me, and you have. I wish you would see that what you have just done to me is what your uncle is doing to you."

Damen goes through to Laurent and stops him from losing himself. He saves him from turning into a copy of the Regent.

THE REGENT

The Regent is Laurent's negative foil. He is who Laurent could become if he gave in to his worst instincts. As a matter of fact Laurent shares many similarities with his uncle:

Both are very intelligent master manipulators

Both are able to seize people's weaknesses and to use them

Both can be cruel and ruthless

Both tend to complicate things

This isn't by chance because the Regent does his best to break Laurent's heart and to warp his mind into a frailer copy of his own. He needs Laurent to think like him and to follow his rules, so that he can beat his nephew. This is why the Regent spends the years after Marlas by abusing Laurent in different ways.

The Regent's abuse has a double nature:

It has a sexual component: the Regent rapes Laurent multiple times as a child and shows possessiveness of him as a young adult. For example, many of his assassin attempts come with a sexual element. The assassins instructed to rape Laurent by using a drogue the Regent clearly used on his nephew as a child. Having Laurent and Damen sleep together, so that Laurent would eventually kill himself. Twisting Laurent and Damen's love story, as if to frame Laurent as dirty and despicable. Spreading voices about Laurent's supposed romantic feelings for Auguste. And so on...

It has an emotional component: the Regent keeps mentioning Auguste, which hurts Laurent in two ways. On the one hand it doesn't let him move on from his brother's death. On the other hand it drills into Laurent he isn't as good as the previous prince

"I hate to see you grown up like this," said the Regent, "when you were such a lovely boy."

The Regent basically blames Laurent for both growing up (physically) and not growing up (psychologically). He manipulates him by treating him as a child, while implying he isn't pure as a child anymore. The result is that Laurent hates himself.

This self-hate manifests itself in recklessness, suicidal tendencies and self-destroying behaviors. Like Laurent lashing out at others, when he is actually furious at himself. This is why specifically Laurent breaks Aimeric by using their shared trauma as a weapon. He hurts both Aimeric and Jord (who hasn't done anything, but being loyal to Laurent) because to truly face Aimeric means to accept himself and he can't.

Symbolically, Laurent kills Aimeric like he is slowly killing himself. This is why Aimeric's death happens after the reveal of Nicaise's murder by the Regent. Laurent kills Aimeric, just like the Regent kills Nicaise. Both victims are abused kids with frail and unstable senses of self, who deep down seek love and vulnerability. The lesson Laurent needs to learn is that he can't save the Nicaise within himself, if he doesn't help the Aimeric too. This is why it is important that Laurent is able to express empathy for Aimeric and to recognize he is a wounded person, just like Nicaise:

"Nicaise knew that when he got too old, he would be replaced." "Like Aimeric," said Damen. Into the long silence that stretched out between them, Laurent said: "Like Aimeric."

It is the first step to aknowledge his own hurt too.

AUGUSTE WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH

The second step is instead to face Auguste's ghost. Laurent's big brother is a double edged sword for the Prince. On the one hand Laurent deeply loves Auguste and is devastated by his dead. On the other hand his idealization of Auguste is unhealthy and leads to Laurent undervaluing himself.

These powerful contradictive feelings come to the surface in his "sparring" match with Damen. There, Laurent for once is able to show all his anger and grief. He lets it all out and is forced to accept he would have never been able to kill Damen in a fight. Still, another realization comes to the surface:

"I know," said Laurent, "that I was never good enough." Damen said, "Neither was your brother." "You're wrong. He was -" "What?" "Better than I am. He would have -" Laurent cut himself off. He pressed his eyes closed, with a breath of something like laughter. "Stopped you." He said it as though he could hear the ludicrousness of it.

Damen's words might seem cruel, but they are actually necessary because they break Laurent's internalised idolisation of Auguste. Laurent has been brought up with the convinction that Auguste is somehow better than him. This idea is present even before Auguste's death because of their father's favouritism. The early loss of his brother and subsequent abuse only makes this feeling stronger. Hence why Damen refusing this helps Laurent grow. Damen is the first one to see Laurent as his own person and to give him a choice:

Damen picked up the discarded knife, and when Laurent's eyes opened, he put it in Laurent's hand. Braced it. Drew it to his own abdomen, so that they stood in a familiar posture. Laurent's back was to the post. "Stop me," said Damen.

Laurent chooses to give up on his revenge. He chooses his present relationship with Damen over Auguste's ghost. He starts wishing for something positive for himself. He starts caring for himself. He starts looking toward a possible future.

JOKASTE = OPENING THE DOOR

To reach this future Laurent has to face Jokaste, who is really another version of Laurent:

"You're lucky we're alike," Jokaste said, stepping down. She and Laurent looked at one another like two reptiles.

Not only that, though, she is Aimeric and Nicaise combined in a single character:

Like Aimeric, she betrays a lover for selfish reasons (apparently)

Like Nicaise, she is caught up in a power struggle and has to choose the side, which ensures her survival, even if it means negate her heart to do so

"You mean, the only difference between us is that I chose the wrong brother?" As the stars began to drift across the sky, Laurent thought of Nicaise, standing in the courtyard with a handful of sapphires. "I don't think you chose," said Laurent.

This time Laurent is able to see this. He empathizes with Jokaste and gives her freedom. He opens her the door:

"We're alike. You said that. Would you have opened the door for me? I don't know. But you opened one for him."

In this way Laurent understands the Aimeric he could not understand and saves the Nicaise he could not save. By the end, Aimeric (Jokaste) is shown mercy and Nicaise (her baby) survives. Laurent gives Jokaste and her family a future. And in this way, he symbolically gives himself a future and a family. He opens his own door.

THE TRIAL

The climax of the trilogy is Laurent's trial in Ios. This choice is interesting on multiple levels:

It is an inversion of the ending of book 1, where Damen is blamed for the assassination attempt on Laurent's life and Laurent protects him. In fatc, it is not by chance that Damen mentions the episode in his initial defense of Laurent.

It shows Damen and Laurent's integration. As a matter of fact Damen is the one who realizes Paschal has the key to dethrone the Regent. He is able to do so because through Laurent he has learnt to observe others, to understand them and to empathize with them. Laurent instead selflessly gives everything up for the person he loves and bravely faces off the Regent with no plan, but simply with his heart. The Regent tries to turn it into a weakness and to force Laurent to give it up, but fails. Finally, he and not Damen is the one who fights Kastor and kills him. He uses the skills he has learnt for his revenge and uses them to protect Damen, instead. He chooses life and love over death and hate.

Most importanlty, though, the trial starts as a farce, but by the end it becomes a fair administration of justice, which punishes the criminal and recognizes the innocent. Let's see how this change happens.

NICAISE = VICTORY

Laurent wins not because of his mind, but because of his heart. Specifically, he wins because of the relationships he builds and of his ability to empathize with the humblest people, those nobody cares about.

First of all, Laurent obviously wins thanks to Damen. It is Damen choosing him over his kingdom that makes it possible to the tides to turn. So, it is because Laurent overcome his internalized hate for Damianos and slowly comes to accept and love him, that he is saved in the end. In a sense, the night where he has to choose if to let Damen die or to save him out of loyalty in volume 1 is when Laurent chooses who he wants to be. He can let a man he hates die without risking anything, like the Regent would. Or he can save that man our of a sense of fairness, like Auguste would. Laurent chooses the latter and makes the first true move towards his victory.

Secondly, Laurent is able to touch the councilors' sense of morality thanks to Loyse, Aimeric's mother. She reveals that her husband basically sold Aimeric to the Regent in exchange of power. She also explains how the Regent conspired with Kastor to kill Theodemes. This testimony isn't decisive because the assassination of Theodemes is a matter of Akielos. Nonetheless, Loyse re-opens the trial and gives importance to Aimeric's story and pain. It is also important that she is a woman because the Regent hates women. She is the character nobody considers, as everyone is focused on Guion's, the powerful councilor. And yet, Laurent does and convinces her to break free from her husband influence for the sake of her son.

Thirdly, Laurent is saved by Paschal's testimony. That said, Paschal is only able to reveal the truth about the Regent's murder of the King only because of Nicaise. In general, Nicaise is a character, who ends up being important in the finales of all three books:

In book one, Nicaise goes to Laurent's apartments after the attempted murder. He is clearly worried and can't decide if to openly switch sides and tell Laurent the truth or not. He also appears to tell Laurent goodbye and to give him his earrings. Symbolically, Laurent is saying goodbye to his younger and most innocent self, as he prepares to enter war with his uncle.

In book two, Nicaise's death is revealed in the climax and it leads to Laurent's decision to march on Charcy. It also kickstarts Laurent's deepest psychological crisis, as he struggles to keep a clean mind and shows how deep he is hurt and desperate.

In book three, Nicaise is the one who indirectly hands Laurent victory, as it is him who stole Govart's papers and gave him to Paschal.

In other words, Nicaise is the one who leads to victory, which fits his name. As a matter of fact Nicaise means "victorious", the person who brings victory and he delivers.

Thematically, this is very important, as Laurent initially regrets to have grown close to Nicaise:

"I killed Nicaise when I left it half done. I should have either stayed away from him, or broken his faith in my uncle. I didn't plan it out, I left it to chance. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking about him like that. I just... I liked him."

He believes that because of their sibling-like bond Nicaise is now dead. He believes his influence isn't enough to break the Regent's control over Nicaise. And yet, it is precisely because of Laurent's love and care for Nicaise that the boy is able to rebel himself enough to steal key documents and to hand them to Laurent's side. Nicaise dies tragically, but his life and Laurent's kindness to him are not in vain. They change the destiny of two kingdoms. Laurent isn't able to save his child-self, but his child-self is strong enough to save him. Just like Laurent might not cancel what happened to him in the past, but can still move forward:

"Stop it, you're hurting him. You're hurting him. Let him go." A soldier was holding him back, and the boy was fighting him. Laurent looked at the boy, and in his eyes was the knowledge that some things couldn't be fixed. He said, "Get that boy out of here."

The new Regent pet once again mirrors a part of Laurent. The side of him that still sees the Regent at family. And yet, Laurent is finally able to accept this part of himself, but is strong enough to start healing. Just like as King he has now the chance to help as many children as the Regent hurt. Laurent ends is arc by growing up. He isn't a child anymore:

"You think you can defy me?" the Regent said to Laurent. "You think you can rule Vere? You?" Laurent said, "I'm not a boy anymore."

He isn't a boy anymore, he can't be controlled by the Regent anymore. He can now start a new life as his own person, free from the Regent and from Auguste's ghost. A life of love and new relationships.

[ilovebuckers5]

.·:·.✧ Say No pt 4✧.·:·.

NIka Muhl x Fem!Reader

"I just wanted to be yours. can I be yours? can I be yours? just tell me I'm yours"

word count - 2.3k

themes:

-angst (if u squint)

-fluff

-smoking

A/N - this is kind of a filler but then again its not... I really liked writing this part tho 😋

august 5th 2023

My eyes stung the morning after. Not even the feelings of more tears helped because she wasn't here to wipe them away. As much as I wanted to wake up curled next to Nika, faced pressed against her chest. I wasn't. She was still in Paige's room. I kept trying to gaslight myself into thinking that she was down the hallway, waiting for me, but she wasn't. My eyes started to blink open to see a bunch of blankets piled up next to my face. I shoved the blankets out of the way and sat up, supporting my body weight with hands behind me. I gazed around my room looking for a sweater to put on. I finally stood up once I found a black hoodie with the UCONN logo on it. It took me forever to realize that I had slipped on Nika's sweatshirt. The first thing I noticed when I walked out of my room was a couple of the girls sitting in the lobby. On their phones, talking, doing whatever. I started looking around for Paige but before I could find the blonde, I found the brunette. Nika was sitting on the arm of a cushioned chair. Of course she decided to not sit on the actual part your ass should be on. I tried my best to look away but just the sight of her was refreshing after a night without her touch.

Her eyes were glued onto her phone that was being held by her left hand. Her right was hanging off to the side. I watched as her thumb gently spun one of her more loose rings around. I watched the way her heels was kicking against the soft material on the chair. I watched every little movement she made. And suddenly I was back at the beach. When even if she had sand in her finger nails and in her hair, she was still perfect to me and always is. Watching her silently took me back to the first night she stayed in my bed. She laid there so peacefully and all I could was watch her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. Arguments completely break me. Even if this isn't the end it feels like it. To know that there is a point in us that Nika didn't feel at peace when the thought of myself came to her mind. that is horrible to think of.

Before she could catch me admiring her, I moved my eyes to the front door when I heard KK, Ice, and Paige walk through the door holding Panda Express. Ice ran up to me holding a bag in front of me. "I couldn't remember your go to for the life of me and you were asleep so forgive me if I botched your order." She handed me a bag of food that was steaming. "No you're good I love anything from Panda." I grabbed onto the bag and sat down at one of the chair in the lobby. The smell of orange chicken and beef mixed with steam rose up to my face hitting my nose with heat. Luckily there was a table in front of me so I took out everything and set it down before throwing away the bag. When I stood up to walk to the trash can I was stopped by a strong hand holding onto my shoulder. I turned around to see Paige looking right at me "You're gonna talk to her today right? It's so insufferable to see you two not being all up on each other." I nodded silently as I was trying to forget what happened even happened. I came back to my food and noticed a bite of my rice was gone. I knew immediately that it was Ashlynn since when I looked up I saw her running away from my chair. I rolled my eyes and continued eating.

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august 11th 2023

"Did you get your shoes from my room?" Jana yelled out from across the hallway. "Yes we're good!" Today was the day that the team was headed back home. I had just finalized my packing plan and had my suitcases full to the brim. As much as I wanted to help Nika pack, she seemed like she was fully capable by herself. By the way, I did talk to her. At least I tried. In fact I tried multiple times. Each and every time I did, she either ignored me or brushed my words off.

august 5th 2023

I was back at my room now. Leftovers of my food were left in the mini fridge. I remember hearing some girls in the room next to me laughing loudly. Even though I wasn't into smoking or drinking, Nika's tipsy voice made it hard to resist. The book in my hand was almost glued to my bed once I heard her voice. I walked next door and knocked on the door while trying to think of an excuse to just be in the room. The door swung open to reveal Qadence standing in front of me. She had a soft smile on her face when she noticed it was me. Me and Qadence have always been close even if it doesn't show. Once the door was opened wide enough, I saw Nika's smile drop as we locked eyes. My heart dropped to my stomach just at the sight of her not being happy around me. Qadence let me into the room which I didn't expect. To be honest, I just went to the room to get some part of Nika's presence near mine. Qadence shut the door and sat down on the floor next to Paige and Amari. I looked around with confusion, not knowing what to do. The group of girls were clearly wanted me to sit down but the only place I could sit was of course right next to Nika. On a bed too. So I did. I mean its not like it would bother me, it's Nika who would be bothered by it. And Paige who would be amused. Azzi took a puff from her pen before handing it to what I thought would be me but was Nika. Azzi leaned over into Nika's ear and whispered what I'm guessing was something having to do with me. Nika took a hit then handed the pen to me without making any eye contact. It was excruciating to not kiss her right then and there in front of everyone.

"Alright. Take a hit or tell the truth. y/n, did you actually fuck Nika?" Clearly Paige was in a mood. My eyes widened at the very quick start to the night. I let out a sigh and handed the pen to Qadence before answering. "Yep." I tried to be as cold and blunt as possible to make it seem like I didn't give a shit, which I did. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out at how much I wanted to look into Nika's eyes to see if she was looking at me. Paige tilted her head to Azzi, indicating that she needed to ask the next question.

After a couple more questions thrown back and forth, I felt myself getting more dissociated and high. The next question was asked by Amari and it was something I did think she would ask. "I'm gonna break the rules a little here, this is for Nika and y/n. are y'all done?" the room went silent. My brain could barely think about what I was going to say so I silently left Nika to answer first. We still didn't make eye contact. The only thing I saw was her hands starting to fidget with each other. I held my breath until she spoke out. "Only if this one wants it to be." Nika tapped my shoulder shyly which sent a chill down my back. That when I noticed just how high she was because sober Nika would never be that bold after being asked a question like that. Nothing left my mouth but heavy breaths. I wanted to speak but no words were able to form on my tongue. All I could do was leave. So I stood up and rushed through the door and back to my room. This happened to be the second time that I had smoked ever so it was a bit rough when I was back in my bed. I couldn't even stand up so flipped myself over so that my face was in the pillow and all I did was cry. I got mascara all over my pillow but that didn't matter right now.

I want Nika back more than anything in the world. Before these couple days I couldn't even fathom the thought of being without her yet I still managed to fuck things up. Just because I wasn't careful? Fucking stupid. I cried for almost an hour nonstop before Azzi walked through my door. She sat herself on the ledge of my bed and gently rubbed my back as more tears fell out of my eyes and got soaked up by my pillow. The only reason I didn't answer the question was because I wanted Nika back so much that it felt like if I told her that, it would be stressful for her. I want what's best for her not for me. I probably sounded so stupid crying so hard over something like a month long relationship issue but it was as if I knew Nika for 20 years. Azzi sat there and rubbed my back for what felt like hours until I finally revealed my now even more reddened and puffy eyes. Azzi grabbed a tissue and wiped my cheeks and eyes of dark mascara. She pulled me into a long embrace which only made more tears flow out. "I don't want it to be over az." She held me close for a couple more seconds before pulling away to speak. "Then you have to do something so that she knows that."

I eventually built up the balls to stand up and approach Nika who was now running after KK who had taken her phone. KK stopped once she saw me walk out the door and head towards Nika direction. In fact, KK froze in place and just stared at me. "What?" Nika flailed her arms around until she turned around, then her hands rested at her sides. Finally for the first time in a month, we looked at each other. But this time we didn't just look at each other, we focused on each other. I felt the air in my lungs become trapped by the lump sitting at the top of my throat. I cleared my throat and broke the eye contact "Um, could I talk to you. Please." I felt the sense that Nika really didn't want to talk to me but she painfully nodded and followed me back into our hotel room. My hands gravitated to her wrists but she pulled away softer than I expected. "Nika. Can I tell you something?" Nika took her lip under her teeth and nodded. "I really love you. Like, a fucking lot." Nika hadn't even spoke and I felt a tear run down my cheek. "I would never in a million years- no in any years, want to hurt you." I looked behind Nika's eyes and felt nothing but hate with a hint of love in her head. Even if she didn't take me back in this moment I needed her to know that she meant everything to me. I would give up my life to spare her happiness.

august 11th 2023

I was loading everyone's bags into the car when I felt a hand wrap around my waist. Ok maybe not around my waist but a hand touched my waist. I look behind me to see Nika. She had tears ready to fall from her eyes. Things had eased out since the fifth but we still weren't back together. I still had the same love for her no matter what, that wouldn't change. Even though she never wanted to admit it, I could always tell when something was wrong with Nika. The sorrows of having to leave California forced me to try and comfort Nika even if that meant holding her in my arms without dating. No words were exchanged I just felt a couple tears slide down my skin that Nika's face was pressed against. My hand trailed across her back that was halfway exposed by the tube top she was wearing. The second she pulled her face out of my chest, I held her jaw with my hands and looked into her glossy eyes. "I'm...sorry." Her words were laced with even more sobs but that didn't matter. She didn't have to be sorry. Did it hurt being without her? Yes. But nothing changed the fact that it was me who did something wrong. She had every right to be mad at me. "Don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for." a couple more tears fell down her cheeks but I quickly stroked them away with the pad of my thumb. I thought she would pull away now but her hands wrapped around my waist before she slowly inched her lips onto mine. I kissed back and then felt her smile across my mouth. I missed her smile.

I pulled away to peek at her now dried eyes and glowing smile. I pressed my head against her forehead and pulled her close. We held onto each other until I looked up and saw a couple of the girls lurking through the window of the hotel lobby. "Alright everyone's staring at us..." A small laugh left Nika's mouth and just that alone warmed my heart even more. Nika left to go grab a couple more bags to put in the car. I admired from afar as Paige, Azzi, and KK basically congratulated her. I leaned my head back on the trunk door of the car and I couldn't help but bring a large smile on my lips. Now the car ride wouldn't be as painful as I predicted it to be.