#a flag whipping around in the breeze

[minhosimthings]

A La Folie ft. Jay

Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.

Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, no smut (yet hehe), mentions of blood, violence, domestic abuse, mentions of cheating, mistresses (don't read it if you can't handle it), mentions of food, Jay has a REALLY tragic past sorry bout that, reader is an orphan, also this is really dramatic IM SORRY I CANT NOT WRITE DRAMA, open ending oohh

A/N: EYYY MR JAY PARK WOOHOO Ngl I was so excited to write this but the exams and all made this kinda difficult to write so if anyone has been waiting for this I'm sorry for the extremely long wait. Also yes this wil be in three parts yay. @yunabi436 this is for you baby 😽

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

"And from Aphrodite's rotten lovesick blood did the white flowers turn into a darker shade of red, eternally forming the flower of love."

Aphrodite and the hunter Adonis' tale had been one of boars, blood, lust and love.

For the young king of the iron-kingdom of Vadronia (rightly given its moniker), the only thing he cared about in all of those four things were the boars and the blood.

Jay Park's kingdom wasn't the strongest in all of Paradoxica just in a penny's wish and a flick of a tail feather. It was quote unquote 'molten from iron itself' as all its rulers were.

From all of his brothers, Jay was probably the one who took his duties as a warrior seriously.

Well, a bit too seriously, according to the said brothers.

"Jay would you please stop running so fast?" Sunghoon panted, putting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily as beads of sweat dripped from his hair and skin.

The mud track was always the hardest one to trench upon, and with Jay on your trail? It was hell. Atleast that's what Jake and Sunghoon described it as.

"Are you going to be saying that when you're running from enemy horses?" Jay turned back and glared at Sunghoon, the light autumn breeze giving him peace as it whipped his hair around.

"For God's sake Jay, no one is going to invade us now." Heeseung walked into the scene, with much less sweatier clothes and an arrow clutched in his hand, indicating he had come back from his target practice, "Give the poor guys a break."

"Yes please give us a break I'll go down on my knees." Jake was close to collapsing on the floor, his hand desperately clutching onto the nearby flag pole for support.

"You'd go down on your knees for your best friend." Jay scoffed, throwing his head back to shake the sweat out of his hair follicles, because as glorious as they were, the stray strands still annoyed him, "And you." He turned towards Heeseung, who, even though was much taller than Jay, now looked like a dwarf in front of Jay's broad figure, "How many times do I have to remind you to come for practice?"

"It's not my fault." Heeseung jut out his bottom lip, he always loved acting cute in front of Jay even if he was older, "Little princess back at home has been spying on me. And not gonna lie, I am extremely aroused."

"Why did I even ask?" Jay rolled his eyes and stretched out his arms, the bright burning sun reflecting in his eyes like the moonshine he loved so much, which he drank by the fireplace as he penned down poetry he could show to no one.

"So Jayyyy" Sunghoon dragged his words out, "Felt any sparks lately?"

"Ask that question again and you'll be running twenty laps round this track." Jay promptly replied, cleaning his face with the lavender-smelling towel the nearby servant handed to him. He always loved the lavender scented things, it reminded him of the springs with his mother, oh how she would tease him with tiny flowers in his hair, and the clink of her ruby created dagger in her belt. The dagger lay soulless now, sitting in a secretive place in Jay's room, as he stared at it and remembered that moment again and again. His bastard father, no matter how many times Jay had cursed him, he still couldn't get it out of his mind.

His mother, his compassionate, kind mother, didn't deserve to bleed out from his father's turn of blade.

And no matter how many potions he took, the smell of the blood filled ballroom still lingered in his nose at night, when he would jolt awake in cold sweat, wanting to cling onto his mother, but then he'd remember that he wasn't eight anymore, she was gone.

"Jay you're my brother and I really respect you a lot." Heeseung started, sitting Jay down on the oak bench, while Jake and Sunghoon quietly sneaked out, running for their lives back to their horses, "But you've got to find someone to love in your life, you've got to get over your fear."

"Weren't you the one who was complaining about love to Jake and I a few days ago?" Jay raised a magnificently trimmed brow, to which Heeseung chuckled.

"Yep but then I fell into that rabbit hole and I seem to like it, a bit too much perhaps." Heeseung stared into the distance, instantly losing his dramatic moment as the setting sun hit his pupils.

"Yeah, someday when I'm older maybe." Jay fiddled with his fingers, he never could keep them still, "But for now, I wanted to ask if you'd want to come with me on a hunt tomorrow?"

"A hunt?" Heeseung quizzed, lifting himself with much difficulty off of the bench, bow in hand, "You haven't invited me to a hunt in ages."

"Necessity is the mother of invention." Jay got up as well, scented towel still in hand, "And in this case it's that wild boar our men have been hunting since last month, been terrorizing the border between Tarnow and Vadronia now. I'm surprised you haven't noticed yet."

"Consider me blinded by love." Heeseung threw a flirtatious wink at Jay, who visibly gagged, "I'll be there."

"I'll be waiting."

"No no no, Jay, we, under no circumstances, apply essence of Hibiscus to a water snake's venom." A lady with greying hair sighed, bending over a wooden cup, while a sturdy, black haired man gulped heavily and stared nervously at the herbs in his hand.

Jay was never very successful in his healing classes, and under the strict gaze of his teacher, old Mrs.Chun, he was far away from catching the train of success.

"I don't get it." Jay frowned like a child, setting the hibiscus flower down on the table filled with healing equipments of all kind, "Wasn't the essence of Hibiscus supposed to combat this snake's venom?"

The old lady sighed again and rolled her eyes, snatching the hibiscus from the table and setting it into a basket full of the bright red flowers. With her other hand, she picked up a wicker work basket of lavender and lifted it up to Jay.

"Lavender. I said lavender remember?" She smiled up at Jay like an encouraging teacher, "Lavender for the wounds which make a man turn purple, and hibiscus for the blood drops."

Jay mumbled the rule under his mouth before pressing the lavender petals to the venom splanched across the bown om front of him. The purplish colour immediately turned a healing shade of dark yellow, satisfying Jay and letting out a sigh of relief from the old lady.

"Just some more practice and patience and you'll be a good healer in no time." Mrs. Chun patted Jay's arm sympathetically.

"But why do I even need to be a healer?" Jay asked curiously, putting the box of potions up on the shelf where they belonged, "I'm already a warrior."

"Every great warrior needs to know how to tend to his own wounds." The old lady smiled, looking curiously at a green flask, "I made a vow to your mother to never let you fail in this subject."

Jay smiled fondly at the thought of his mother spending her hours in the infirmary along with Mrs. Chun. Mrs. Chun herself was like his mother figure, providing him the hugs his 14 year old self needed so bad years ago.

"And remember Jay!" Mrs. Chun called out just as Jay was about to leave the room, "I won't be here for the entirety of next month."

"But then who's going to look after the infirmary?" Jay turned back and raised a quizzical brow at Mrs.Chun, who smiled gently.

"My apprentice will." She promptly replied, "She's a nice girl, I told her all about your predicament of failing at healing." Jay let out a chuckle at Mrs.Chun's joke, "She'll take your classes alright?"

"Don't miss me too much Mrs.Chun!" Jay laughed, "I'm your favourite remember?"

Mrs.Chun laughed heartily to herself. Oh that boy, she thought, still a bit at heart even if he was a man to the world.

Only a bit of love perhaps, can truly lead him to show this side of him to the world.

Jay sighed heavily as he plopped down on his armchair, the most comfortable one by the fire.

Love, he scoffed, what a stupid, dangerous thing.

He believed his father to love his mother, he believed his mother to love his father even as he went out every night to quote unquote 'find himself'. Mistresses were awful buisness, and no Queen had ever objected her king having one. But of course, his mother had to object, she had to be different. She had to storm in to her husband and his lover and confront them. And his father, fire-filled man he was, had to strike a blade through her belly, making her bleed out in 14 year old Jay's arms.

And of course, Jay, blinded by his rage, had to strike his father back, skilled as his father was, Jay was more fleet footed, and in the blink of an eye, his father and his father's new toy were lying in cold blood on the floor, as Jay sobbed, clutching his mother's body, dead as a fish out of the ocean.

And his brothers had noticed, they had always noticed how Jay was never the same from that day. From the happy boy who loved to write stories and poetry and who hated to even step foot in the training yard, Jay became the mercenary king, ready with his sword clutched in hand, and his poems long forgotten to silence and withering darkness.

But it wasn't to say that Jay was a ruthless ruler, he chose not to take that path, especially not after half the kingdom starved under the rule of his father. It wouldn't have been a lie to say he was the kindest one in all of Paradoxica, except he didn't really show it in the way he spoke or acted, but by the way he controlled the administration and whatnot of the kingdom. This kept his busy, seldom leaving time for any other activities, much to the disappointment of his brothers, especially Heeseung, who had always been the closest to him, who had known what he was truly like, deep inside.

Clutching his eagle feather quill, one of his most dearest ones, Jay dipped the tip into his ink pot, letting the excess ink dry off before pressing it to his leather bound diary.

When he wrote the feelings he couldn't ever say out loud onto the softwood paper, Jay felt a sort of contentment, he had always been a clandestine philophile, so to write his proses on the idea of love, death and misery, was to create a beautiful choreography on his mindset.

Alas, if there was only someone he could show them to, someone who would understand what Jay meant in the lines, even with his messy loopy calligraphy, that would have been a dream truly come true.

But how could a man who wrote poems to challenge the angels of love themselves, ever find love?

But I am a mere narrator, what would I know?

And sometimes, just sometimes, Cupid lurked in the ballrooms of dancing princes and in the dark inkpots of oxymoronic kings.

"I have no idea what's happening, but I'm happy to be here." Sunghoon's beautiful Clydesdale horse pranced around on the grass, as energetic and as similar a persona as her owner.

"Would you tell her to calm down?" Heeseung's own chestnut's hooves guided him towards Sunghoon, "She needs the energy for the hunt." Heeseung easily managed to calm the mare down by scratching behind her eyes, to which Sunghoon drooped since he had been enjoying the prancing around a bit too much.

"Why are we going on a hunt again?" Jake adjusted his saddle, making sure he was buckled in properly to his Fox Trotter horse, "Aren't we above killing animals now?"

"Your best friend tell you that?" The clip clopping of Jay's magnificent Dutch Warmblood sent all of the soldiers to silence, "And if the animal is a wild boar, no we aren't above that."

"Whatever you say, oh great King." Sunghoon snickered, as he did a sort of bow on his horse, making everyone laugh.

"Oh shut up." Jay rolled his eyes, clutching onto his horse's hair, and leaning into his usual stance, "Come on now, don't want to keep a beauty waiting do we?" And with the mighty neigh of his horse, he rode off into the forest, followed by Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon, who followed with dramatic sighs.

"Sometimes I wonder if he just wants to live in an adventure book and say cringey lines all the time." Sunghoon jested, making the others laugh.

"Where on earth is Sunoo?" Jay shouted out, completely ignoring the statement made about him, as the rest of the three managed to catch up to his horse's pace.

"Probably tending to his vineyard." The wind whipped Jake's hair around, "God knows if he'd ever accept coming to a hunt with us."

"Maybe a grape hunt-"

"Shh!"

Jay's action of stopping his horse, and shushing everyone startled the others, and as the clopping of hooves quietened down, they understood why Jay had stopped so abruptly.

The rustling of the nearby begonia bushes, combined with the noises of an animal which sounded extremely similar to a wild boar, alerted them, as they drew out their swords, daggers and metal tipped arrows, all from treasure chest of Vadronia's amazing metalwork, aiming them at the begonia bushes, as Jay held up his closed fist to give the command.

"Come on out." Jay whispered to no one in particular but himself, as the begonia bushes began shaking more rapidly and the sounds of an animal's footsteps came nearer.

"Hey maybe we should-" Heeseung bagan quietly to Jay, but was interrupted by the ripping of the begonias into shreds.

And there it was, what Jay had been waiting for.

A big wild boar in its full magnificence.

Ivory tusks in full gleam, swathes of brown fur all over its damaged skin, with wounds from previous hints. A ture display of its strength, Jay thought, it wanted to intimidate them, as if to say 'see how many people haven't defeated me yet, why do you think you stand a chance?'.

"Steady now, Lady." Jay patted his horse, which was ever so graciously named Lady, although the mare's personality in battle was far away from a lady's. Jay always preferred mares to horses, he though they were more faster and agile, while horses used their brute strength. And he had a hatred from brute strength. It was what got her killed after all.....

"Jake look out!" Heeseung cried out, snapping Jay out of his daze of staring into the boar's eyes. Of all the animals of the world, he hated this one the most, he hated the way his father loved to hunt them, and how he'd come home from hunts everyday drenched in blood with a boar skull im his hands, from which his mother would recoil from, what with her hatred of the smell of iron.

Hatred, that's all that was there in Jay's life. And that's all there will be.

"Jay, we have to get back come on!" Sunghoon cried, his horse already galloping away. The boar was far too big for them to contain. "Jay?" Heeseung peered back, "Jay no!"

But the sturdy built man's ears heeded no warning as he stepped along to the boar, his sword clutched tightly in hand, the carving of his name in the metal shining bright, as if to warn the spirit of the forest that he has arrived.

"Hyung what's happe-" Jake and Sunghoon's horses had turned back to see why the eldest wasn't coming, only to see Jay stabbing at the boar, while Heeseung tried to get Lady, who was close to prancing away into the depths of the forest.

"Help me would ya!" Heeseung cried, flinging his rope around Lady's magnificent neck, to which Sunghoon and Jake came quick and flung their own ropes, "One of you help Jay!"

"I'll go!" Sunghoon's horse galloped towards Jay, but to his shock, he saw that the boar was already lying, its movements still, and Jay standing drenched in blood.

It was dead.

Jay's sword was decorated with ribbons of maroon.

"Jay what the..." Sunghoon began, but he could find no words. The boar had been big, two times the size and strength of any ordinary man, and now it was kneeling at Jay's command, kneeling dead and cold as a fish.

"It's dead." Jay growled, his breathing too heavy, and his hand clutching a particularly dark spot on his stomach, as Heeseung and Jake came to the scene, having calmed Lady down, "The tusk...."

"The tusk? What about the- Jay!" Heeseung cried, before jumping off his horse and quickly moving towards Jay's graceful falling figure.

The last thing Jay felt was the feeling of wet grass underneath his head, Heeseung's hand over his wrist, and the familiar scent of feminine lavender pressing over him before everything went dark as he had always wished for it to be.

Jay never cared much about his injuries. No matter how big or small they were, no matter if it was a paper cut to the thumb or an arrow head to the shoulder, he would simply say "Injuries happen, it's a part of life" and move on. Which proved to be a source of annoyance for his brothers, especially Jake, who had an eye for healing.

But Jay was a firm believer in the notion that twenty four hours a day simply wasn't enough. He wanted more, he craved for more, more time, more work. Although he wouldn't admit it, everyone was in unison with the fact that he was Paradoxica's biggest workaholic.

And when it came back to the topic of injuries, Jay would still keep working, whether or not he was stuck in bed, because Heeseung had forced him to stay there.

Heeseung remembered Jay's younger days. How Jay would whine and do nothing if he got even the tiniest splinter in his finger. How he would beg for a day off from studies if he merely stubbed his tie against the kitchen ladder while sneaking out to steal pastries. But the horrible incident had changed every aspect of Jay, and now, he wouldn't stop working if every limb in his body was broken.

"All for the good of the people" he reasoned.

Usually Mrs.Chun had taken care of him, scolded him too many times about taking rests whenever he'd come back from battles or fights with blood flowing out his nose. But even then he didn't care. So the vision of waking up to Mrs.Chun's berry scent was a norm for him whenever he'd get injured.

But now, the room wasn't berry scented, and nor was Mrs. Chun sitting in the corner, waiting for him to wake up.

A girl?

A girl, wearing Mrs.Chun's apron, had her head rested against his table, her eyes fluttered close.

Were his eyes tricking him or did Mrs.Chun suddenly become thirty years younger?

Feeling something heavy on his waist, Jay tried to lift his head from his pillow, letting out a guttural groan as he did. God what was hurting him so much? He could feel something hurting at his stomach.

"Your Majesty, lie back down." He heard someone say, and as he opened his eyes, he saw the girl bending over him, forcing him to lie back down on the bed.

Jay stared at her for a few moments, trying to remember who she is before the candle went off in his mind.

The apprentice.

You were Mrs.Chun's apprentice.

"Are you Mrs.Chun's apprentice?" Jay groaned, feeling his head throb and his fingers were aching too.

You nodded promptly, before pushing Jay gently back onto the bed as he tried to get back.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Your Majesty, but you aren't getting up for another two weeks. You were stabbed by a wild boar's tusk." You stated firmly, shocking Jay at how casually you had addressed him, "His Highness Heeseung told me to handcuff you to the bed if you even try to move."

"Handcuff me?" Jay chuckled, moving his body slightly to lessen the pressure on his legs, "Where are you even going to get-"

Jay's sentence was cut off abruptly as your hands pulled out a pair of heavy metal from a secret pocket in the olive green dress you were wearing, and held it in front of Jay, effectively silencing him.

"I'm sorry if that was rude, but you are my patient, Your Majesty.." Your mouth let out a chuckle, sending a weird sensation into Jay's stomach, which he had never felt before, "So, I will do anything and everything in order to make you rest."

"So what may I address you by, My lady?" Jay quizzed you, his head now no longer throbbing for some reason. He studied your features for a while, he thought your eyes were pretty, decorated by a thin lining of kohl. Your figure was pretty too, wrapped in the striking colour of the dress you were in, combined with the beautifully familiar way you wore your hair.

"Definetly not by 'My lady'." You chuckled, picking up your dress, and sinking into a curtsy, "Y/N, you may call me Y/N, Your Majesty."

"Pretty name." Jay complemented, watching you stand up straight from your curtsy and smile impishly at him.

"You've got to take your medicine now." You reached into your apron's pocket and pulled a big vial, which was filled with a bubbling, golden liquid, "Now, according to Mrs.Chun, tricks by pretty people often work on you."

"Pretty people?" Jay scoffed childishly, thinking about whether or not he thought Heeseung was pretty, as you measured out the liquid into a cup, "Mrs.Chun needs to have a check for up there. And do you really think you're pretty?"

You strode towards him with the cup in your hand, and smiled widely. "Well, pardon me Your Majesty, but from the way you were staring at me five minutes ago, yes. I do think I'm pretty."

"Don't get your ego up." Jay warned, taking the cup from you, letting his mind linger for a few minutes on how your delicate fingers brushed his scarred ones softly, "Your parents mus'nt have taught you manners did they?"

"Well, firstly, I don't have parents." You smiled, "And secondly I need to check your bandages, they seem to be bleeding again."

So that was what the pain radiating from his stomach was, Jay thought, as he looked down to see his bandages streaked a darker shade of red. He quickly gulped down the golden liquid in the cup, a visibly disgusted expression forming on his face at how bitter it was, and looked up at you, with widened eyes.

"So...?" He said, expectantly, seeing you fumble with some clean cloth, another vial of what looked like cream, and a safety pin.

"Tell me where it hurts when I change them alright?" You said gently, making his lay down on the bed again, "and uh..."

"What?" Jay questioned, seeing your eyes linger at his wound or more specifically, his ab muscles, "Oh you can touch them it's fine."

"Oh. Oh yeah alright." You said, feeling your face heat up slightly. Bandaging him when he was still unconscious was easier than this, when he was awake. God his stare was so attractive to you, even now, as you gently touched his bandages, replacing them with cleaner cloth, you tried hard not to brush your fingers against his abs.

"Enjoying the view?" Jay asked, a cockish sneer to his voice. "There's a view to enjoy Your Majesty?" You fired back, although you most certainly were enjoying staring at him.

"You're an interesting one." Jay said, trying to make small talk as you lightly pressed against the smaller wounds with the cream, "Y/N wasn't it?"

"Yep." You said with a pop of your lips, finishing wrapping his wounds with a slight tap to check if they were secure, "And please do stay in bed and don't work. If you need anything, I'm right outside. His highness Heeseung has told me to rest in the chambers opposite yours."

The chambers opposite to his, his parents' chambers. God did Jay hate that room, all big and filled with skulls from hunts.

"If you want to you can go home, I can manage on myself." Jay said, his eyes set on yours. Why was it so hard to maintain eye contact with you?

"I know how that idea works." You smiled again, bringing that weird sensation back into Jay's stomach, "I'll go and then you'll order someone to bring you your work, so His Highness Heeseung specifically asked me not to leave. I guess you're stuck with me Your Majesty." You curtsied to finish off the impression.

"Jay." He spoke again, to your confusion, which made him stifle a chuckle, "Please, call me Jay."

"Jay." You smiled to yourself, "Well, ring that bell if you need anything."

As you left the room, quietly shutting the door behind you, Jay had the sudden urge to kick his feet in the air. The room was filled with lavender scent, your lavender scent to be specific, and it gave Jay a sense of calm, which in turn reduced the pain radiating from his stab wound.

Well this would be an interesting two weeks.

"Your Majesty what on Earth are you doing?"

Jay froze in his position at hearing a stern voice. Your stern voice, to be precise.

"Resting?" He said, trying to hide his cheeky smile, as he slowly backed away from his table. Rolling your eyes, you quickly got him back to the bed, worried that his bandages will open back again. But the only thing Jay was worried about was that his work wasn't getting completed.

"How about this?" You asked, as you finally managed to wrestle him back to the bed, "I'll do the work for you, if you agree to rest. It's in that diary right?"

"I can't let you do that." Jay grumbled, reaching for your arm, as you hurried to get to the diary on his table. The cold touch of his hand on your warmer skin made you flinch heavily, which in turn made Jay pull his hand away.

"I'm sorry." Jay quickly apologised, as you rubbed your arm, "I- That's my private diary, I don't really allow people to see it."

"Oh, my apologies then." You curtsied, still rubbing your arm, feeling extremely cold for some reason, even if the warm daylight was coming into the room through the window, "Your Majesty-"

"Jay." He corrected, shooting you the tiniest fragment of a smile.

"Jay." You said again, this time feeling more at ease, "You've got to rest, I'm begging you. Those bandages won't magically heal you until you rest. If there's anything I can do to get you to rest, I'll do it."

Jay's ears weren't actually listening to anything. His mind was too distracted again, by your scent. God damn his strong sense of smell, but you smelled like memories he wanted to forget.

"Tell me what perfume you use and then I won't work." Jay looked up at you with a cheeky smile. He didn't know why, but he felt comfortable to show you his smile, which he didn't often feel with the ladies in their paraffin socks.

"I- that's a peculiar question." You said, not knowing what to feel aboutthe actual King asking you about your perfume.

"I swear on my own grave that I will rest if the great healer Y/N tells me her perfume." Jay recited, keeping his hand on his chest for dramatic effect.

"It's the lavender one we get in the town square from Marcella's." You raised your chin up high, "Now would you rest?"

"Hmmm let me think." Jay dramatically sighed, "No."

"Your Majesty, I will beg." You breathed desperately, "I will seriously-"

"Your collarbone." Jay interrupted, his attention diverting from your eyes to your shoulder, "There's something on your collarbone."

Jay took note of the way your eyes flickered quickly and worriedly to your collarbone, and how you rushed to pull the sleeve of your dress up to cover it, clearing your throat afterwards to clear the awkward air.

"Are you-"

"Your Majesty, I admire the way you hold so much strivance for your work but you really must rest if you wish to keep working for the rest of your life."

The atmosphere of the room had a drastic change, Jay could feel it, as you quickly curtsied, said a quick "excuse me" and hurried off towards the exit.

That wasn't a stain or a birth mark on your shoulder Jay knew it, as he leant back comfortably, and decided to follow your advice for a while.

He'd seen dark marks like that on someone he once knew and loved.

And something in him asked him not to rest (unless it was pretending for you) until he figured out where that bruise the size of a man's hand, came from.

Part 2 coming soon....

Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @yunabi436

#jay park fic #park jay #park jay smut #park jongseong #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jay #enha fics #enha jay park #enhypen jay park #jay fluff #jay angst #jay smut #jay series #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #park jay hard hours #comfort enhypen #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen romance #enhypen royal au #enha royal au #bye bye now

[marypaol]

My Hurting Heart

Aang x Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the team faces the Fire Lord before the eclipse, Reader sees Katara and Aang kiss.

Warnings: Self doubt, negative mindset, loads of angst, crying, kissing, mention of war, mention of loosing someone, mention of death, I think that’s all :)

Note: This is new!! I normally write for Draco, but I had to write this story I came up with because I love the show.

Reader is nicknamed “Flower” so no use of Y/N

Masterlist

Request Requirements

@roseeyyyiee I saw a post of yours wanting Aang x Reader :)

Katara’s hair was in her face. Now, it wasn’t something that the girl didn’t necessarily dislike; it smelled like salt water and her father’s leather uniform from carrying him earlier, but the way it tickled her nose was something she didn’t exactly enjoy. On the contrary, she did kinda like the fact that Aang’s nose was brushing the skin of her shoulder, his breathing fanning her neck as the team embraced for what they feared would be the last time.

Doubt crowded their hearts and minds, the hands of anticipation squeezed their throats until they couldn’t breathe.

Who knows what would happen after they broke apart. Would Sokka’s invention idea suddenly go downhill? Would Katara get hurt on Appa, and would be unable to water bend? Or wound Toph get stuck in a bunch of rocks she couldn’t control? Or worse, the girl thought, would she loose Aang?

The last thought lingered as so did their touch as the group separated.

Hakoda emerged from the submarine, his hair breezing at his cheeks.

He announced everyone back in, and the group followed his orders, the girl thinking Aang and Katara followed them.

She thought she heard their soft footsteps, or rough feet of Katara running to ride Appa. Or the snap of Aang’s glider as he prepared to go the Fire Lord.

But sometimes even her mind played tricks on her, and the things she thought she heard didn’t occur.

None of them did.

“Hey, flower, go check on Katara, she needs to fly on Appa in order for us to move on.”

Sokka’s voice rang in her ears, her stomach twisting as she realized her friend wasn’t on the armed bison yet. Her feet hurt as she climbed the ladder to the hole, the sun almost blinding her as the darkness of the submarine flooded with light.

Her lips parted after her tongue escaped to lick them, vocal cords ready to call out Katara’s name.

Instead her mouth was opened more in surprise, doubt swarming her stomach, thick and hot.

She disturbed them just in time to see the back of Aang’s head close to Katara’s, a soft gasp escaping her when his lips pressed to hers.

He pulled back, hands going to his glider as it snapped open, the blue flags of fabric spreading out. The noise echoed in the girl’s ears as the boy took off, the air and him becoming one.

At that very moment, the girl couldn’t think of anything else as she watched Katara look off into the distance of the sky, most likely with flushed cheeks after the previous events.

The girl’s chest suddenly hurt with a sharp pain. No, not her chest, she thought, hand going up to squeeze the fabric of her shirt, her heart.

Her heart hurt. And she knew why.

She cleared her throat, her friend whipping around, expression flustered but cheeks back to normal color.

“Sokka told me to tell you to get going if we wanna move on.”

The girl’s voice hasn’t sounded any worse. Her throat was cloudy, imaginary hands gripping her vocal cords. What was heard was a soft hurting voice, almost inaudible.

But Katara heard it well and clear, her head nodding as her mind quickly focused on something else.

“Right, don’t worry I got it.” She said, running towards Appa.

The girl wasn’t so lucky, the picture of the two repeatedly playing in her mind.

She nodded back even though Katara was long gone, head dipping into the submarine as the cap closed loudly behind her.

She saw Sokka flinch from the noise. “Flower, why’d you let it slam!?”

He might of said something else but she didn’t get to hear it, hot tears not only clouding her vision but all her senses.

She didn’t know where to go so she went to where the water benders would be steering the submarines, since there wasn’t anyone in there at the moment.

There she curled up in the tightest ball she could, feeling like a child crying after their mom yelled at them.

She did feel yelled at, like the world finally yelled the fact that Aang would never love a girl like her. She was the alive and breathing opposite of Katara.

How could he like her? When she thought about herself she couldn’t think of one thing she liked. One thing Aang would like.

Because when he looked at her he just saw the girl who couldn’t bend anything, the girl who just was good at plans but most of the time they went with Sokka’s anyway.

Why was she even trying at that point. Trying to thrive in the group was hard enough, and trying for the Avatar to like her was like trying to get a pig to fly. Impossible.

So the girl stayed there, and later found a secret cabinet in the ship that she hid in while the water benders did their thing.

The tears were still flowing endlessly, her sobs only letting out when there was a loud noise to cover it up.

She couldn’t feel anymore alone.

Katara didn’t care about her.

She cared about showing the power of women and the Avatar saving the world.

Sokka didn’t care about her.

He cared about Suki and his sister.

Toph didn’t care about her.

She had other things to worry about, like her parents and her previous royal life.

And especially Aang. He didn’t love or care about her.

He loved Katara, and cared more about the water bender more than he could ever care about the girl crying in the submarine instead of fighting the Fire Nation.

He wanted someone who was brave and tough, someone Katara was and she wasn’t.

She sniffed loudly, and thankfully the water benders didn’t hear her but a small part of her wished they did.

At least then someone would show a speck of care she thrived for.

She wanted someone to care, to love her, but Aang wasn’t that person as she hoped he would be.

“Flower I feel you under there.”

She gasped at the voice, knowing all too well that it was Toph because of her feet being her eyes.

“Go away; aren’t you supposed to be helping the earth benders?”

Worry gripped the girl for a moment, scared that Toph and the team somehow failed and she came to tell her that the Avatar is dead for good this time.

Toph chuckled, sensing the girl’s worry with just her feet.

“Yeah, but I noticed you were gone…. Well Sokka did because I can’t see you. But I wanted to look for you.”

The girl wiped her eyes, thanking God that Toph couldn’t see her tears. And praying that she couldn’t sense them.

“There’s no use getting me- I’m no help to the team anyway.”

Toph blinked, seeming to be looking off into space but the girl knew she was listening.

“Yeah you are, flower, without you Twinkle Toes would still be a nervous wreck.”

The girl thought back when she assured Aang that he was ready for the Fire Lord, despite his nightmares saying otherwise. What she told him was true, every word about him being strong and brave and all the other things she told him.

“Katara would’ve said those things too.”

Toph shook her head, hair strands moving in front of her face.

“Not as good as you did.”

The simple sentence reassured her for a moment, but that didn’t change the fact that Aang didn’t feel the same way.

“Doesn’t matter!” She suddenly exclaimed. “Aang kissed Katara before he left so that means that he loves her, not me, so if anything I am useless and stupid because if he doesn’t love me than I don’t know what I am. What am I, Toph? I’m a nobody without him. Without him, I feel empty, and stupid, and lonely, and unhelpful and unloved, and-“

She was babbling on so much she didn’t notice the tears blurring her vision once again, her cheeks soaked from the liquid of doubt.

Toph reached out for the girl, grabbing her hands and held her once she found out where she was.

Toph shushed her sobs, rubbing her back as she placed her feet on the ground, so she could sense that if anyone was coming.

“It’s okay, Flower. Twinkle Toes will realize what he lost.”

The never ending tears soaked the earth bender’s clothes, but neither of them cared.

“He’ll never even notice. I was never his.” The girl whispered.

“Not true.” Toph said instantly. “And if his stupid brain doesn’t realize it I’ll make him.”

The girl let out a very small smile into her friend’s clothes.

Thanks for reading! 📖

#avatar aang #avatar the last airbender #avatar #netflix avatar #aang x reader #atla #atla zuko #avatar live action #atla aang #prince zuko #sokka #toph #katara #avatar last airbender #avatar imagine #aang imagines #Aang stories #kissing #rejection #one sided love #hurt/comfort #angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #imagines #stories

[thanotaphobia]

my heart, my sky

dragons. lesbians. need i say more?

crossposted to ao3

⋆

Bagi screams into the air, throat raw, hair whipping across her face. She can feel the tendrils of the wind ripping between her teeth, tearing down her arms and between her fingers, prying up her eyelashes and lids and making her eyes teary and dry all at once. The wind kisses her cheeks and makes them cherry-red. She’s freezing cold and hot as hell– everything about her is a contradiction, her muscles as tense as a piano wire, primed and ready to jump. Beneath her, the ground moves at an incredible pace and above, the clouds lazily drift across the pure blue sky. 

Everything is glorious.

The reins in her hands shift and whip in the breeze, and Bagi nudges her foot slightly in the stirrup, feeling the warm body beneath her respond without hesitation. Her riding pants keep her planted firmly on the saddle, attached with a clip on either side, and she lets go of the reins with one hand to spread her fingers across Richas’ scales and feel his warmth. They’re both leaning forward together, her cheek nearly pressed to his neck, and in front of them a cliff looms– Bagi watches it approach and inhales, inhales, inhales–

Then pushes her stirrups down, and Richas responds, his wings snapping to his side as they pull into a sharp dive. She feels the force of it pull at her face, dragging her cheeks away from her teeth and making her eyes flutter. She fights the sensation back, feeling Richas shudder beneath her and a second later his wings snap out, dragging them on an updraft and racing like a shot over a body of water.

“So close,” Bagi screams, the wind stealing her voice before it can go anywhere. She can see the flags ahead of them, the huge swaths of wooden stands. She can practically hear the crowds cheering her name, and as they descend the final stretch, she closes her eyes.

She only knows they’ve crossed the finish line when Richas pulls left and slows down. They circle the top of the stadium once, twice, and then drop towards the grassy floor of it. Around her, the flags flutter in the wake of their speed, the wooden stands devoid of any human presence for now. There are no crowds cheering, but Bagi’s ears are still full of wind and she can’t hear much over the sound of Richas’ wings coming in for a landing.

Her whole body reverberates when he lands, hind legs first, then back. He leans forward and she cleanly fumbles with her clips and slides off his forelimb, boots hitting the ground with a solid thump. She nearly stumbles– catches herself, just in time for Tubbo to round Richas’ head and whoop, a stopwatch held over his head.

“Four minutes, thirty-seven seconds!” he shouts.

“Caralho,” Bagi shouts in return, sliding her helmet off of her head and slamming it to the ground. “Not fast enough. Damn.”

“What do you mean?” Tubbo says, and Richas does a quick circle behind them both, stamping his feet and making a shrill, happy noise. “That’s so quick! You guys were amazing!”

“If I’m going to win, I need to do better,” Bagi says, burying her face in her hands. Her fingers and cheeks are freezing, so she pats her face to try and warm it up a little quicker. She watches as Richas settles down, the ground settling as he stops stomping, coming over to nose at her helmet. Dutifully, she picks it back up. “Not bad, Richas. Good flying.”

“You did so good,” Tubbo says, and Richas accepts the scratches from him on his nose, shutting his eyes and purring with delight. “Who’s a good dragon? Who’s the best dragon in the whole world, huh?”

“You’re going to make his ego huge,” Bagi says accusingly, pointing at the two of them, then spreading her hands to make her point. “Huge!”

“You’re such a speedster,” Tubbo coos in his baby voice, the one he reserves for all the dragons and sometimes Phil, when Phil’s pissed him off. He drops it though, and Richas noses his way out from under Tubbo’s arm to hop over and around the grassy arena, rolling over in the sunlight and stretching his wings out– Bagi watches him, running over the racecourse in her mind.

She’s running out of time to practice. Tonight they go head to head with Phil and Baghera, and whoever wins goes to the finals. And Bagi wants to win. Their team is already favored, what with Cellbit being on it and everything, but Bagi wants to prove her worth as a rider too. Show the world that it’s not just her brother who’s got the talent.

“So,” Tubbo says, circling her and tugging at her various bits of gear. “How you feelin’? Ready?”

“Ugh,” Bagi says. Tubbo unclips the harness from her back and she shrugs it off. “Sick. Nervous.”

“Good. I’d be worried if you weren’t,” Tubbo says. He’s not part of her team; he works for the stadium, technically, as a dragoneer mechanic. But Bagi practically grew up in this stadium, so Tubbo’s basically her brother by now too. He says he doesn’t place bets on winners and losers, but Bagi knows better than that– everyone places bets, even if it’s only in their minds. “Phil and Chayanne’ll be in for their 4 o’clock spot soon, though, so you and Richas gotta dip.”

“Yeah, we’re going,” Bagi says. “We’ve got an appointment with…” she lets her voice dip, hushing it so Richas won’t overhear. “The doctor.”

“Oh no,” Tubbo says, laughing a little under his breath. Richas– who definitely heard her– is now prowling the edge of the stadium and pretending to try and run away, flapping his wings as though he’s desperate to escape the wooden walls of the stands. “Well, hope everything’s fine.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bagi says. “Just a checkup.”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and he’s got a look in his eye, mischievous and cheeky. “Say hi to Tina for me.”

Yep, time to go! Bagi snags back her riding equipment from Tubbo’s hand and whistles sharply, Richas immediately trundling over to her side. “Yeah, well, gotta go Tubbo!” she says, and Tubbo laughs, his cackle sharp and delighted. “Tell Phil and Chayanne I say hi!”

“Tell them yourself!” Tubbo shouts at her as she clambers back up onto Richas’ shoulders, the space between his neck and torso. She doesn’t bother clipping herself in, just slings her riding harness over the front of the saddle and waves to Tubbo, locking her feet into the stirrups as Richas spreads his wings. Bagi waits a second, then leans in and whispers,

“Get him.”

When Richas takes off, the wind is nearly enough to knock Tubbo flat on his knees. Bagi knows this because she watches him stumble and fall, waving as she laughs and Richas propels them into the sky.

They go slower, now– breaking over the top of the stadium walls and back towards the city proper. Bagi leans forward on her elbows and cradles her cheeks in her hands, watching the sun creep across the sky as Richas takes them towards the dragoneer center. 

“What do you think?” Bagi asks, running one hand along the line of lean muscles in Richas’ neck. “You ready to go? Ready to win?”

In response, Richas opens his mouth and roars– a wild, echoing sound that makes Bagi cringe and close her eyes as the physical sound waves shudder through her body and make her feel like she’s just touched a live wire with her tongue. 

“Taking that as a yes,” Bagi says once the feeling has passed, grinning. She traces circles into his scales, dips her fingers underneath them just to feel the iron of his skin. “You’re a good dragon, Richarlyson. I bet Cellbit never tells you that, hm?” She coos to him. “The best dragon in the whole world. Yes yes.” 

Richas coos back at her, that rumbling purr that she’s known for years of her life, and she smiles, leaning forward again to lie her head against his neck. He knows where they’re going and doesn’t try to play any tricks on her– not today, not when in a few hours, so much of their reputation will be at stake. She knows he’s feeling the stress too, can see it in the way he flies and how he rumbles with irritation when they fly through a flock of birds.

“Don’t eat them,” she chides when he snaps at one as they pass. “Not good for you.”

Richas just grumbles, and flies on.

They descend after a little while, Richas dutifully (albeit grumpily) knowing where to go. Bagi soothes him by petting up and down his neck as he flaps his wings and lowers them through the open roof of the dracitium– as they land in the open air, the sky burning blue above, Bagi swings off of Richas and glances around.

“Hello?” she calls out, peeking around Richas’ other side. Around them, she can hear the sound of boarded and injured dragons call out in response, a rainfall of chittering. “Anyone home?”

“One second!” Bagi’s face splits into a grin as she sees a pile of boxes and two legs round the corner. She doesn’t give Tina time to even think about dropping her load as she teeters to the side– she hops over Richas’ leg and darts over, stabilizing the boxes with one hand and leaning around to smile at Tina. Tina, who immediately grins upon seeing her. “Bagi!”

“Hi, Tina!”

“Hi!!! Oh my gosh, one second, okay, just give me–”

“Here, can I help?” Bagi and Tina maneuver together, and Bagi carefully takes two of the boxes from her arms. With it more evenly split, Bagi can see Tina’s face over the wooden crate.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Tina says. “They just need to go in the corner, over here, follow me– thank you!”

“No problem,” Bagi says. She follows Tina dutifully, watching her hair swing from side to side as she walks– it’s up in a high ponytail, away from the grime of her work as a dragon medic. Her overalls are stained, as is the pink shirt underneath, and as they finally set the boxes down in the corner, Tina turns and throws her arms around Bagi’s neck.

“Thanks!” she says, pulling back. Bagi’s heart stutters back to life as Tina pulls away. “Oh my gosh, Bagi, you guys must be so excited!”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, blinking and turning as Tina breaks away to go coo over Richas. Richas, who tucks her under his chin and blinks once at Bagi, long and pointed. “We’re so ready.”

“A big strong dragon and his big strong racer,” Tina says, scratching a spot under Richas’ chin and looking back at Bagi. “Any concerns?”

“Ask him,” Bagi says. She chooses to stay over here, hoisting herself up to sit on the boxes she just put down as Tina starts giving Richas a checkup, cheery and sweet as she inspects his scales and wings and feet. 

Her crush on Tina is nothing new– she’s had it for a while now, and everyone ever apparently knows. At least, according to Roier, and Pac, and Mike, and Mouse, and Jaiden, and Tubbo, and–

Yeah. She’s pretty sure even Tina knows. They’ve been flirting back and forth, both of them too scared to make a move. Bagi’s too keyed up to even think about it now, kicking her feet as Tina has Richas spread his wings out and runs her hands over the skin between his fingers and nodding a few times. Her heart skips a beat whenever Tina glances back to smile at her, and Richas tucks his nose into his front paws, occasionally huffing. She sticks her tongue out at him when Tina isn’t looking, and earns a huff in response.

“All good?” Bagi asks.

“What, you nervous?” Tina asks. She’d disappeared on Richas’ other side a moment ago, but pops up now, climbing on his back and moving straps and saddles to check for any chafing or loose scales. “You shouldn’t be!”

“I might not win,” Bagi says.

“Don’t say that,” Tina chides, shaking a finger at her. “You will! I know you can do it, so you can! It’s that simple.”

“Not when you’re the one in the sky,” Bagi says, sighing. “It would be easier if you were there.”

“I wish,” Tina says, sliding off of Richas. “I give you, Richas, a clean bill of health! All good to ride today, and to win!” She jumps up and gives Richas a hug as he huffs and chitters at her happily, spinning in a circle around Tina. Bagi stands up and is almost immediately swiped into the circle Richas is stomping in by his tail– she stumbles, and Tina catches her with one hand. 

“Do you want to go?” Bagi asks. Tina blinks at her.

“Go?” she asks.

“To the race,” Bagi says. Her cheeks flush, and Richas settles down, curling his tail around their feet and legs. She feels anchored in place as she asks, “To watch us?”

“Oh!” Tina says. “You want me there?”

“Yes,” Bagi says, maybe a little too earnestly. She immediately tries to tone it down. “I mean, if you want. We both would like you there.”

“No, I’d love to! I just– I don’t have a ticket,” Tina says, face twisting. “They sold out before I could get one.” Unsurprising. Dragon races usually sell out fast.

“Oh, that’s no issue,” Bagi says. Her chest warms, because this is a problem she can fix. “Just go to the back gate, find Tubbo, tell him you are here to see me. He can let you in!”

“Oh really, Bagi?” Tina asks, her voice rising in pitch. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course!” Bagi says, earnest. “I want to see you there!” She can feel herself blushing again, but pushes past it. “I can let Tubbo know you are coming. You know which gate?”

“In the back, yeah, I think I can find it.” Tina says. “Oh wow, okay, I’m so excited!!! I’ve never been in the arena before!”

“Oh, you’re going to love it!” Bagi says. She grins, grabbing Tina’s hands and spinning her around in a circle. Tina laughs, throwing her head back. “The grass is so soft, so soft for the dragon’s feet, and the stands are so high and made of wood, the flags hang down like willow tree branches.” She gestures, trying to paint the picture for Tina. Tina, who is watching her with stars in her eyes– Bagi’s chest inflates and she lets out a little, nervous giggle. “Sorry. I am so nervous right now.”

Tina nods. Her eyes lock into determination, and she moves up, grabs Bagi by the shoulders.

“I believe in you,” she says firmly, and Bagi stares at her with wide open eyes. Her whole body is on fire. 

Now, her brain says furiously, lashing back and forth like Richas’ tail when he’s mad. Kiss her now, you stupid idiot–

But Bagi knows better, and the anxiety kicks in before she can stop it. If Tina said no, if Tina told her she didn’t like it– Bagi would lose. Her confidence would crumple. But like this, standing here with Tina in the middle of the dracitium with her warm hands on Bagi’s shoulders and the honest belief in her eyes that Bagi can do it– yes. She can. She can do this.

And if she does, she knows Tina will be there with her to celebrate.

“Come,” she says, almost desperately. “It starts in a few hours.”

“I know when it starts,” Tina says. Bagi smiles at her. “I’ll be there!”

“Promise?” Bagi asks, dragging herself away from Tina’s grasp before she does something really stupid. Richas is waiting for her, eyes slightly narrowed, like he’s thinking we’re gonna talk about this. Bagi ignores him and climbs up his shoulder instead, focusing on the feeling of his scales beneath her fingers, grounding. She slings herself over his back onto the saddle, and shoots Tina a little salute. “Bye, linda.”

“Promise,” Tina says. She breathes it, and it barely reaches Bagi’s ears, a whisper. Then she shouts,“Good luck!”

“With you there, I won’t need it!” Bagi turns her heels inwards. Richas gets the hint and they take off in a few short bursts of his wings, sending them sky-high. Bagi’s stomach drops and she stares down at the dracitium below them, getting smaller and smaller. Just barely, she can make out the tiny form of Tina inside, probably waving them goodbye. Bagi’s heart clenches, and she leans forward, pressing herself against Richas’ back.

“Ay,” she moans. Beneath her, Richas lets out a chittering laugh into the clouds, scattering another flock of birds.

There is no time to bemoan her stupidity. 

She’s too busy. There’s too much to do. Pac and Mike show up an hour late to help her get Richas all done up in his gear, herself climbing into her official racing suit and polishing the blue and green and yellow pin on her breast. At some point, Cellbit and Roier show up, but they don’t stop to talk to her– they go off to talk to the other racers, and Bagi tries not to feel bad. She knows Cellbit wishes he could be the one racing this time, but the cards were pulled in her favor, and so she was the one picked. Their team is close knit– there are six of them. Cellbit, Pac, Mike, Forever, Felps, and her. Bagi was a latecomer, joining after years of begging Cellbit to make her official. Her brother had outshone her in many ways as a kid, but even he can admit she’s a damn good racer. They’d voted to let her on the team, in the end, and Cellbit had agreed to let her on after some persuading from the others.

Bagi’s going to prove her worth with this flight. She and Richas, together. Richas, their baby, the dragon all of them had helped raise from an egg. He is the true star of their team, the seventh member, the most special one. He’s the one they couldn’t win without. Literally. 

He’s nervous too. Bagi can tell, the way he paces back and forth. While she’s out getting her own checkup from the human medics, Cellbit stops by. She misses him entirely.

“Why?” Bagi demands, glaring at Pac. He doesn’t deserve her anger, but she’s got no one else to direct it at. “He stops to say hi to Richas and not me? I am his sister!”

“Sorry, Bagi,” Pac says, holding his hands up in surrender. “He didn’t say.”

Bagi’s nerves are only exacerbated by the fact she hasn’t seen Tina yet, either. She and Richas pace together, although her strides are much shorter than the dragons as they wait for the stands to fill up, the hum of people surrounding them. Cellbit avoiding her, Tina not here yet, it’s a recipe for disaster. But it can’t be. Because Bagi is going to win.

She knows who her opponents are– she can hear them occasionally, down in the halls below the arena. She doesn’t go say hi, too caught up in her own mind. Philza and Chayanne are here, she knows, and Pomme with Baghera. Two of the world’s best dragoneers, and her. Little Bagi from the middle of nowhere, voted onto her team last-minute. Everyone thought Cellbit would be the one riding this race. But no– Bagi is here instead.

She pets her hand down Richas’ side and leans her forehead against him. In the bowels of the arena it’s dark, dark enough to hide in this corner and pretend the world is far, far away.

“Richas,” she says, inhaling and exhaling. Above them, the horns sound, long and steady. It’s time to get ready to go up. “We got this.”

Richas chitters softly at her. When she looks up from the rough keratin scales, he’s looking at her, eyes glimmering. He is her family. She inhales, exhales, and nods. Her fingers move on autopilot, triple checking the saddle and her own gear.

“Okay,” Bagi says, a feeling like pure light filling her up from her very core. There is confidence within her, a certainty she can’t shake. She locks her foot into place, hoists herself up onto Richas’ back, and nods. “Okay, we do this.”

Above ground, the midday sun is nearly blinding after being below the arena for so long. The grass is a vibrant emerald green, the stands filled with people shouting and cheering and jeering at them. Richas bears it all with confidence, preening in the attention– Bagi isn’t cowed, but she is a little more hesitant. She tries to play it off, guiding Richas up towards where another sleek, red dragon is waiting with her rider. 

“Eat shit, Bagi!” Baghera calls from atop Pomme’s back. She grins, giving Bagi a little wave.

“I will kick your ass today!” Bagi shouts back, cupping her hands around her mouth for extra measure. Beneath her, Richas rumbles menacingly and Pomme matches his tone, although a little higher pitched.

“Oh, quit it you two,” Phil says, the last of them all to exit the tunnels and pull up alongside. Chayanne bumbles his way in between Pomme and Richas, breaking them up before anything starts. Phil is sitting straight upright, one hand on Chayanne’s reins and the other holding his signature green and white striped hat on his head. “Come on, play nice.”

“Says you,” Baghera says to him, pulling back on Pomme’s reins as the dragon rears up a little in delight, sniffing Chayanne’s ears. “Prepare to lose, old man.”

“Now that’s just rude,” Phil says, laughing a little. 

“Both of you prepare to lose,” Bagi says, grinning as their attention turns to her. “Today is my game.”

“Bagi!” For a moment she turns her attention away, missing whatever Phil or Baghera says next in order to look down. Her breath catches; Cellbit is watching her, hands on his hips. She waits a moment, and he stands there, not saying anything before asking: “Você terminou falando merda?” 

“Não,” Bagi says, and she breaks into a grin looking down at him. She fights back the urge to ask where he was ten minutes ago– he’s here now. He’s watching, and that’s all that matters. Cellbit grins back at her, reaching up to pat Richas’ side fondly, his fingers doing a last check on all the saddle straps. Although his face is impassive, pride leeches from every pore. “Eu vou vencer, Cellbit.”

Cellbit nods once. “Boa sorte,” he says, then steps back from Richas’ side. When Bagi looks up again, she finds Phil and Baghera taking their places by the starting line, and she quickly joins up. She allows herself one moment of respite– inhaling and exhaling in a long, slow motion, then leans down and pats Richas’ neck.

“Nós vamos vencer,” she whispers to him, then sits upright. Bagi looks back over her shoulder– looking for what exactly, she’s not sure, but finds Tubbo in the crowd of dragoneer mechanics and beside him and Cellbit and Roier and the rest of them–

Tina. Brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, face flushed with glee and excitement. She’s holding a little flag with their team logo on it, waving it over her head. As they lock eyes, Tina shouts something unintelligible across the field and waves the flag even harder, jumping up and down. 

Bagi grins.

She pulls her helmet on. The world gets a little quieter.

“Okay, Richas,” she says. Her own voice is a little too louder, muted in her ears. Beside her, Philza and Baghera are similarly getting ready. Chayanne is visibly clawing at the ground, his sleek yellow body rippling in the sunlight. Richas makes a growling noise and the other two dragons echo him in their excitement, tinged with the nerves of their riders. Bagi leans forward and braces herself for take-off, eyeing the cannon stand. Something moves on top of it, an announcer’s voice booming over the cacophony of the crowd, and Bagi waits. Richas is tense underneath her, his head cocked to the side, waiting.

The crowd quiets for a moment, just a second before the cannon goes off. Bagi’s whole body melts, and then they’re off like a shot.

Richas doesn’t pull his punches. He shoots upward into the sky with a few flaps of his wings, his whole body pulsing and shaking with the effort of a starting point. Once they get high enough he switches over, acting on autopilot. Bagi doesn’t have to do much, just direct him when she notices them getting close to the other two racers. The wind is screaming in her ears, desperate and whining, and she leans closer and closer to Richas until they’re pressed so close together they might as well be one.

Out of the corners of her eyes, she can make out Phil and Baghera in the sky beside them. That’s something she has that Richas doesn’t– peripheral vision. Phil is slightly ahead of both her and Baghera, but Chayanne’s always had an edge to the beginning of a course. He tends to lag in the second half, Bagi knows. Baghera and Pomme, on the other hand, lag in the beginning, something they display now as Bagi pulls ahead and leaves them in her dust.

“Who’s eating shit now?” Bagi whispers to nobody but herself, and they take a sharp left turn, out over the water in the bay. Richas catches an updraft and they soar upwards, the thin skin between the fingers of his wings making a sound like a tarp being unfolded. They get some more speed with a dive and catch, doing the same thing repeatedly on the updrafts while they can. She’s closer to Chayanne and Phil now, close enough to make out the shape of Phil lying similarly low on Chayanne’s neck like she is on Richas. They flirt for a while, dipping back and forth and weaving between sea spray together. Bagi can taste the salt on her lips, on her skin, and she resists the urge to throw her head back and laugh– they need all the drag resistance they can get. They turn, the water beneath them turning to gauzy green treetops and then back to water again. Bagi buries her face into Richas’ scales and screams, gripping the reins and dragging him to the side to avoid running into the islands themselves. 

They loop around, and Baghera and Pomme catch up, just like Bagi expected. Her whole body is thrumming, run through with shots of adrenaline and excitement. They’re turning onto the second leg now, and once they’re past the flag she can see waving in the distance, they’ll be halfway to the finish line.

It’s been less than a minute and a half, but Bagi feels like hours have passed. Her jaw hurts from how hard she’s clenching it, her hair whipped into a frizzy frenzy despite the fact she carefully tucked it up under her helmet. Richas’ wings are spread wide and free, the sun glinting off his green and brown scales. She catches sight of their shadow on the ocean below them, a slim, dark thing that only stays in one place for less than a second.

This, she thinks, is being alive.

They hit the flag. It’s the second leg of the race, and they make a slow, wide turn back towards the arena. Bagi’s more in control now, because this is where the delicate maneuvering comes in. Richas needs her range of sight and she needs Richas’ speed– they can win this, she thinks. She can see Phil lagging a little bit and for a while they trade places back and forth, all three of them, the dragons stretched to their limits and riders pressed tight against their backs. They swap first multiple times, Bagi relishing the thrill every time she gets in front of Phil and refusing to let herself feel down when Baghera immediately overtakes them in turn. 

Around, over, up, down. They’d practiced this only a few hours before. Bagi can see the final stretch in her mind's eye, and it’s quickly becoming a reality. They stop trading places as frequently and now every time Phil passes her by Bagi nearly cracks her molars. Richas is steaming, his scales hot beneath her hands.

Here it is. Bagi sees the cliffs coming and knows it’s time. She breathes, forcing herself to relax, and tries to forget about her competition. It’s just her and Richas and the cliffs, and all the speed they need in order to cross the finish line. She holds, waiting until the very last second, and then pushes the stirrups down and feels Richas turn into a bullet.

She might’ve passed out. Or maybe she’d just closed her eyes and lost it, for a few seconds there. But Bagi swears that in those few seconds of downward motion, she becomes weightless, her body floating in the space between the sky and Richas, and he’s with her, the only thing for her to hold on to. 

And then she slams down into his back so hard she tastes blood, Richas’ wings spread out on either side of her like they’re hers, like she is sharing them with him. She can feel the tension in her body just as he can and they, together, zip across the top of the water– it sprays out behind them, so sharp the droplets are like knives. The flags and stadium are right there, right in front of her, and she can see Phil and Baghera on either side of her but she ignores them as she and Richas pull forward and pull forward and pull forward–

And they crash across the finish line almost a full head in front of Phil.

Bagi’s not sure when she stopped breathing. All she knows is that her chest seizes as they pull up together and do a quick circle above the stadium to slow down, and then she’s crashing to the grassy floor of it in shock. Richas is howling, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside his throat and the other dragons at the arena all join in, roaring and quivering. She can feel him shaking as they land and she pats him, sitting up and similarly finding herself trembling from the adrenaline.

“Richarlyson,” she gasps, catching her breath. “Richas. Oh, Richas, você se saiu tão bem.”

Richas purrs at her, the sound choked but happy as his chest heaves. He sinks to the ground and Bagi unclips herself from him in two lithe movements, ripping her helmet off as she rolls off of Richas’ back and her feet hit the grass. Above them, the crowd is roaring with delight, an orchestra of thousands of voices all screaming her and Richas’ name. Bagi barely has time to comprehend it before people are surrounding her, patting her on the shoulder and congratulating them both, but Bagi’s eyes lock on to someone specific at the edge of the crowd.

She throws her helmet to the ground and before she can stop herself, she’s walking with purpose towards Tina. Tina, whose face is red and shining and glistening with joy. Tina, that stupid little flag still clenched in her hands.

Tina, who Bagi throws her arms around and kisses like the world is ending.

Afterwards, she’ll probably blame it on the thrill of a race well-flown, or adrenaline, or something like that. But for now, all Bagi knows is this: she wanted to kiss Tina, so she did. And Tina, after a moment of shocked hesitation, apparently wants to kiss her back. She feels Tina’s arms come up and hold her in turn– her hands are shaking when they press against Bagi’s back, but her mouth is warm and soft and she tastes like cherries. Bagi kisses her a little harder and Tina giggles into her mouth but bends, leaning backwards to accommodate the pressure.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss until it feels like continuing on would be a little rude. Bagi is the one to pull back, and the look on Tina’s face has her weak at the knees almost immediately. Tina is smiling, her lips as red as her cheeks, her hair falling out of her perfect ponytail.

“You won!” she squeaks, and Bagi laughs, pulling her back up and grabbing her around the waist. Picking Tina up is easy– so is spinning her in a circle as Tina starts chanting, “You won, you won, you won!”

“We won!” Bagi crows. Around her, she starts to see familiar faces, but focuses on putting Tina down so she doesn’t get hurt. She doesn’t let go of Tina, either– and Tina seems content to cling onto Bagi, grinning so wide it must hurt. 

First in her face, of course, is Cellbit.

“Você ganhou, porra!” he shouts, “Richas, you, you did it!” 

Then he looks at Tina, back at Bagi, and punches Bagi in the shoulder. 

“You jerk,” she says, but she’s laughing as she says it. Somewhere behind Cellbit she can see Pac and Tubbo exchanging money and that is going to be a conversation, but for now Cellbit is punching his fist into the air and jumping in a circle, Richas is stomping his feet and roaring in her direction, the crowds in the stands above them are screaming; across the green, Phil shoots her a nod, and Tina is looking at her with open adoration, and all Bagi wants to do– and does– is kiss her again.

#qsmp #q!bagi #q!tina #bagina #gatina #qsmp shipping #qsmp richarlyson #hes here and hes a DRAGONNNNNNNNN #also disclaimer i dont speak portuguese so if anything is wrong lmk and ill fix it #my writing

[broken-clover]

16- Halfway There

Not sure why I put this prompt in here, it was hard! Hence why this took me so long. Here I tried to focus a lot on sensations, despite not having been to a concert in a while the post-show high still sticks with me. I thought it'd be fun to combine some of that with Sol and Axl since they seem the type to be familiar with it.

-

“How much longer ‘s it gonna be, chief?”

The motor beneath them rumbled, muffling out any actual grumbling that may have been happening elsewhere. “Five minutes after the last time you asked.”

“Which was…?”

He sighed in frustration, loud enough that it was audible over the vehicle itself and the wind whipping by. “We’re ‘bout halfway, give or take. Another hour and a half, probably.”

“Huh. Damn. Didn’t seem that far on the way out.”

“Going to that show was your idea, y’know.”

“Hey, show was good!” Axl shrugged innocently. “Commute’s shit, but the show was good.”

Sol gripped the Firewheel’s handlebars tighter in a desperate attempt to avoid smashing his passenger’s head in. Even if he really deserved it. He heard the man yawn, and, despite not being tired himself, copied the gesture.

“...Guess it was a decent show.” Despite being a music guy, it had been a long time since he’d gone to a live show. Post-apocalyptic bands didn’t hold a candle to the classics, but Sol would admit he missed the simple act of rocking out in a crowd to ear-bursting guitar and drinking a shitton of crappy beer something fierce. Plus, Axl had paid for the tickets, so it wasn’t like it had been a waste of his own money.

A cool spot of wind filled his lungs as he breathed in, and he paused to toss his head back to loosen any stray hair pinned against his collar. The trailing ends of his limiter and the long strands of his ponytail flapped behind like a thin flag. Driving in the dark on a quiet stretch; he’d missed that too.

He momentarily checked the sidecar. Axl had made himself more than comfortable, slouching back into the seat until his knees were almost higher than his head. One arm hung over the edge, fingers spread to feel the air go by.

“Just make sure you’re belted in. Don’t wanna hit a bump in the road and have you go flying out at 80 miles an hour on the highway.”

Axl yawned again. “Dunno ‘bout you Yanks and your weird measurements, but tha’ sounds pretty fast.”

“Yeah. It is. So don’t do it, unless you’re excited to burn most of your skin off on the asphalt.”

“Ew. Nah, pass.” He scooted up until he could prop his chin atop his arms draped along the edge of the car. “Man, it’s kinda nice out.”

“‘s fine if you wanna sleep the rest of the way.”

“Y’don’t mind?”

“Nah. Still a ways to go.” Sol shot him a dirty half-smirk. “Saves me from having to listen to you talk, too.”

Axl gave his sleeve a playful smack. “Piss off, mate, you’re a century old and ya still need driving tips!”

“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who drives on the wrong side of the road.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Mr. Imperial Measuring System. B’sides, we still have better tea.”

“Tea is shit,” Sol shrugged. “Why d’ya think we chucked it in the harbor?”

“Ugh, like five hundred years and you’re still on that?” Replied Axl, rolling his eyes. “...Look, gonna be honest, I did get stranded around there one time. Didn’t realize what I was doing until after the fact. Actually kinda fun. Like trashin’ a hotel room, ‘cept it smelled nicer.”

The driver gave him an odd look. “Bullshit. You’re drunk.”

“Prolly.” Yawning again, he burrowed into the warm bend of his arms. “We almost there, chief?”

“Only been five minutes since the last time you asked. Which was five minutes before the time before that.”

He waited for a response. He didn’t get one. When he could spare a look away from the road, Axl had already conked out, long hair trailing behind in the breeze like a comet-tail.

“...Figures,” he grunted, pressing harder against the gas. “Was actually havin’ fun for a second.”

#frog writes #comfortober #guilty gear #sol badguy #axl low

[captainswanapproved]

🐉 Daemon introduces his little princess to Caraxes - she’s not afraid - and he adores her of course

+

Can you do one where Visenya is born and she is healthy?

Both Rhaenyra and Visenya had survived the long labor at Dragonstone. Rumors spread that the Princess Visenya was a malformed babe with draconic features. These rumors were propagated by the Greens, despite the protests of the ailing King Viserys.

Queen Alicent declared to any who would listen that Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon remained at Dragonstone to hide their monster of a child.

In truth, Visenya was the very image of her mother, five years of age, healthy, and lovely. The family had remained at Dragonstone to shield their beloved girl from the horrors at court. But now it was time for Visenya to make her debut, flying with her father on the back of Caraxes, for her young dragon Abraxes was too small for riding.

“Papa, please hurry!” Little Visenya Targaryen paced the stone floors of Dragonstone’s grand hall frantic with nervous energy.

Her brothers and mother had already departed for King’s Landing, but Visenya and her father would be arriving at court with dramatic flair and style.

Daemon stood at the top of the stairs, sheathing Dark Sister. “Patience, my little dragon,” Daemon called with an indulgent smile. “You are as eager to prove yourself as your mother once was. Your time will come.”

“I want to see Caraxes now!”

Daemon picked up Visenya a minute later. “As the princess commands. Now, you mustn’t be afraid. Caraxes is very large and long but he would never strike at the blood of a true dragon.”

“I am not afraid,” Visenya declared. “I have longed to ride a dragon, to show all of Westeros that I am not what they believe.”

“What the realm believes will be corrected today, little one. One day, you will ride gloriously to battle just as your namesake did with Aegon the Conqueror.”

Visenya’s chest swelled with pride. “I will help you and Mama defeat the Greens!”

“Perhaps,” Daemon said, hoping it would not come to that. Visenya was too young, too precious, to be lost.

As they approached Caraxes’ cave, Visenya hurried forward.

Caraxes had already been saddled, awaiting the arrival of his rider. The dragon raised its long, slender neck, sniffing the air to catch the scent of the approaching Visenya. He rumbled his approval when the princess boldly called Lykiri!

Visenya showed no fear as she approached her father’s faithful dragon. She extended a hand and stroked his scales. “You are beautiful,” Visenya whispered in High Valyrian. Caraxes trilled happily, curling his tail around the princess.

Daemon smiled. Visenya would be a glorious dragon rider.

***

“Your husband is late,” Alicent said, her voice snide and triumphant.

Rhaenyra resisted the urge to snap back. Alicent would regret the slander she had been spreading when Caraxes arrived in front of the assemblage, carrying Visenya in all her glory.

“Alicent,” Viserys’ voice carried a warning the his queen did not heed.

The queen’s reply was interrupted by the loud roar of Caraxes. The assemblage of peers looked up in awe at the approaching dragon. Daemon sat in the saddle as a king would sit on the iron throne. In front of him was Visenya, standing tall, held up by her father, her silver hair and scarlet gown whipping in the breeze. Caraxes landed on the flag stones with grace, lowering himself to allow Daemon and Visenya to dismount.

Rhaenyra’s supporters cheered the arrival of the princess, and even those who supported Alicent and the Hightowers stared with disbelief. Visenya approached her mother and grandsire, head held high. She displayed perfect courtly manners as she curtsied to Viserys.

Viserys knelt down and embraced her. To the gathered crowd, he said, “Let it be known to all the naysayers that Princess Visenya is as beautiful and strong as Princess Rhaenyra, future Queen of the Realm. We are proud to welcome her to King’s Landing.”

The crowd cheered again, and Rhaenyra welcomed her daughter to her side, throwing a triumphant smile at Alicent, who appeared to have lost her nerve.

It was a small victory.

Rhaenyra knew that the conflict between the Greens and the Blacks would come to a head one day, just as she knew that she would have to be victorious for the sake of her eight beautiful children.

Send me some Daemyra prompts!

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #Long live Princess Visenya #Screw the greens #my writing

[dkniade]

Translating the Narrated Poem of the Story Teaser: “The Boy and the Whirlwind”

It’s an interesting thing, knowing that Venti’s poetry is not meant to be Chinese stylistically (usually traditional Chinese poetry has a specific syllable count per line depending on the style and is very condensed in imagery), but rather it’s in Chinese only in language. It carries a certain form and meter that makes it hard to recognize what it’s trying to mimic… But I’ll take a look at this lost ballad waiting to be found anyways.

This is the story teaser known in English as “The Boy and the Whirlwind”.

This is also the story teaser known in Chinese as “微风与少年”, or in other words—

“The Breeze and the Boy”.

——

.

Original Chinese Title: 微风与少年

Original Chinese Transcript

.

我要说的故事

开始于旧蒙德。

.

在那暴君统治的国度，

我认识一位少年。

.

少年懂得弹琴，

寻着自己的诗篇。

.

但他生在风墙之内，

从来不曾见过蓝天。

.

「我想看见飞鸟翱翔的模样。」

少年眼神倔强，瞳中有光。

.

但他的声音被呼啸风声盖过，

因为龙卷只会收取颂歌，不再留下其他声响。

.

真正的天空，囚笼外的诗与歌，

难道不是值得为之而战的愿望？

.

所以少年对我发出邀请：

「与我同去吧——碾碎暴君，撕开风墙。」

.

少年接起反叛之旗，

我亦投身追求「自由」的战争。

.

冲破囚笼之人一路得胜。

令神位崩毁，千风卷乱，诸国动震。

.

在硝烟中，我们见证暴君之末。

在灰烬中，我们见证高塔崩落。

.

如事，「新蒙德」之造史。

至此，无人再登王座。 ------

My Translated English Title: The Breeze and the Boy

My English Translation (Prose)

The story I’m about to tell

Starts in Old Mondstadt.

.

In that kingdom ruled by a tyrant,

I met a young boy.

.

The boy knew how to play the lyre, 

Searching for lyrics of his own.

.

But he lived within the storm-walls,

Having never seen the blue sky.

.

“I wish to see the birds soaring freely.”

The boy’s unyielding eyes had hope in them.

.

But his voice was lost in the howling wind,

For the whirlwind only accepted hymns, and left no other sound.

.

The true sky, the poems and songs beyond the cage,

Are they not wishes worth fighting for?

.

So the boy extended his invitation to me:

“Come with me. Let us pulverize the tyrant, and rip through the storm-walls.”

.

The young boy raised the flag of revolt,

And I threw myself into the fight for “Freedom”.

.

Victory followed those who broke through the cage,

Making the god’s seat crumble, the thousand winds whip, and nations shake violently.

.

In the parting smoke, we witnessed the end of the tyrant.

In the flying ashes, we witnessed the crumbling of the spire.

.

Thus, the epic of “New Mondstadt”.

So far, none has again taken its throne.

.

-----

Official English Title: The Boy and the Whirlwind

Official English Transcript

In Old Mondstadt transpired the story to be told,

.

Where a tyrant ruled, 

I met a boy, not that old.

.

The lyre he played, 

and for a song he sought,

.

But storm-walls blocked blue sky — 

he was sincerely distraught.

.

“I do so wish to see the birds in flight,”

Said he, his strong eyes filling with light.

.

But his voice was lost in the howling wind’s churn.

For the whirlwind takes, and gives naught in return.

.

The true sky, and songs that cageless soar…

Were they not wishes worth fighting for?

.

So the boy turned, extending his hand:

“Let us cast down the tyrant and his walls from this land.”

.

The young boy raised then the flag of revolt,

And I threw myself into freedom’s tumult.

.

Victorious were we who fought to be free.

Gods fell, winds whipped, nations shook violently.

.

In the smoke, a despot met his doom,

And we watched as his great tower fell none too soon.

.

Mondstadt began anew, the story passed down—

And since then never has another worn its crown.

. ----------

.

Noteworthy Terms and Phrases

少年 (Shàonián / shao4nian2)

(modern term) young boy, around the age of ten to eighteen years old. The nameless bard should be around this age, but it’s hard to pinpoint due to the general artstyle. (literary term) youth.

—

少年眼神倔强，瞳中有光。

(Shàonián yǎnshéng juéjiàng，tóng zhōng yoǔ guāng / Shao4nian2 yan3sheng4 jue2jiang4, tong2 zhong1 you3 guang1)

Literally “The young boy’s eyes [were] unyielding, there’s light in [his] pupils.” 倔强 could mean stubborn but in this context it’s closer to unyielding. 光 means light but here it means something more metaphorical like “his eyes filled with hope”. 

I have also considered “with a glint in his eye” but it sounds too mischievous (like he’s about to pull a trick) so for the more righteous bard I went for the first interpretation.

Thus, “The boy’s unyielding eyes had hope in them.”

—

冲破囚笼之人一路得胜。

(Chōngpò qiú lóng zhī rén yīlù déshèng. / Chong1po4 qiu2 long3 zhi1 ren2 yi1lu4 de2sheng4)

More literally it’s “Those who broke through the cage achieved victory throughout the entire path” but in English it’s better to say “victory followed those who broke through the cage.”

—

神位 vs 王座 (shénweì / shen2wei4; wángzuò / wang2zuo4)

Literally speaking, the first means seat of god and the second means throne. However—

神位, also known as 排位, means spirit tablet (or memorial tablet, or ancestral tablet). It’s part of East Asian culture, though it originated from traditional Chinese culture. Simply put, it’s a sort of wooden tablet with the name of a spirit, ancestor, or deceased person on it, along with some auspicious sayings, placed on an altar for sacrifices and offerings.

(Here’s a Wikipedia link)

Why such a word is used in a poem about Mondstadt, which is based on German culture with some Greek mythology influences, is beyond me.

Though, it seems multiple tablets (thus, for multiple spirits, deities, ancestors, etc.) can be placed on the altar at once, and the word does appear in the poem when the Thousand Winds break free (令神位崩毁，千风卷乱). One could argue that the 神位 in question was for the thousand winds (be it the group the wind spirit Venti once belonged to or the thousand winds of time Istaroth), along with Decarabian, the God of Storms himself. After all, the Thousand Winds Temple exists in Mondstadt, and both Barbatos and Istaroth were worshipped around Decarabian’s time (according to the Sacrificial Fragments weapon lore).

But taking the context of the rest of the poem, I’d say 神位 should still mean something like seat of god or the position of god here, and 王座 would be throne.

——

如事，「新蒙德」之造史。(Rúshì，“Xīn Méngdé” zhī zàoshǐ. / Ru2shi4, “Xin1 Meng2de2” zhi1 zao4shi4.)

It's pretty formal to say this. Directly, it’s “These events, the creation Epic of ‘New Mondstadt’.” 造史 itself isn’t an actual word but the first character means creation (as in 创造) and the second character could either mean history (历史) or epic poetry (史诗) here. I figured that this is meant to be a poem about a hero, so I’ve chosen the epic sense.

So it’s rendered as “Thus, the epic of ‘New Mondstadt’.”

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

Rhyming Scheme

Original Chinese Poem

AX / XB / XB / XB / CC / XC / XC / XC / XD / DD / EE / AX

.

Official English Stylization 

XA / XA / XB / XB / CC / DD / EE / FF / GG / HH / II / JJ

.

Okay, so the rhyming scheme between the two versions is similar in this section:

少年懂得弹琴，(qín)

寻着自己的诗篇。(piān)

但他生在风墙之内，(neì)

从来不曾见过蓝天。(tiàn)

「我想看见飞鸟翱翔的模样。」(yàng)

少年眼神倔强，瞳中有光。(huāng)

or 

The lyre he played, 

and for a song he sought,

But storm-walls blocked blue sky — 

he was sincerely distraught.

“I do so wish to see the birds in flight,”

Said he, his strong eyes filling with light.

.

The last two lines of both are couplets, and the three pairs are the only instance where the two versions rhymed at the same place. It’s the XB / XB / CC part of the above rhyming scheme.

The official English stylization primarily uses rhyming couplets, but as to why the length of the couplets became shorter after “‘I do so wish to see the birds in flight,’ / Said he, his strong eyes filling with light” is… unknown, unless it’s to show turning point, and thus emphasis on the couplets make you pay more attention to the events that followed? The rhyming scheme is not as noticable in Chinese… But the syllable count isn’t particularly noticeable in Chinese either, so it’s probably closer to a modern Chinese poetic style. 

But then, without a strong rhyming scheme nor meter, the structure of the poem is a little weak in Chinese, and it didn’t seem like it was freestyle, since they were clearly trying something with the rhyming. (With that said however, Chinese isn’t a very rhythmic language compared to English, so it’s okay.)

I want to see if I can write it into an English poem that follows the rhyme scheme and meaning of the Chinese poem.

----

Rhyming Scheme: AX / XB / XB / XB / CC / XC / XC / XC / XD / DD / EE / AE

Meter

okay so the Cecilia which has three main petals is shown in reverse on the flag of rebellion so it would make sense to use a trimeter

Old Mondstadt was used by Decarabian, one ruler, so the first syllable should be stressed, with three syllables per meter 

In other words, dactylic trimeter (which is not as common as iambs and is therefore hard to write with!! Start with an unstressed syllable to make it easier!) 

In other words, catalectic amphibrachic tetrameter 

And iambs have a better flow so it could be used for the parts representing freedom (and good for rhyming couplets too)

Let’s say for the free parts to use iambic tetrameter (four winds) 

And also a nonspecific tetrameter for Those Particular Parts where the Chinese cut it up into phrases of four characters (and thus syllables)

Meter, Summary

catalectic amphibrachic tetrameter (- / - - / - - / - - /)

iambic tetrameter (-/-/-/-/)

Amphibrach  (- / -) for Decarabian, the one ruler, ruling Old Mondstadt, which causes an imbalance in power, hence the lopsided feeling of the meter 

Trimeter (foot repeated three times) for the three-petaled Cecilia 

Iambs (- /) for the balanced feeling of freedom and peace, and New Mondstadt having no ruler

Tetrameter (foot repeated four times) for the four winds, thus the better flow of the meter 

Link to my rewriting of the poem in English

#venti #mondstadt #old mondstadt #decarabian #nameless bard #genshin impact #chinese #translation #english translation #Genshin translation #dusk analysis #long post #Genshin lore

[cariantha]

The Boyfriend Excuse

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 (sometime after the gala)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Word count: 1.1K

Rating: Teen

Category:  Fluff

Warning: A curse word or two.

Prompt: Ethan’s reaction to MC saying “I have a boyfriend” when he tries to hug/kiss her or something because she’s way too hammered. (prompt courtesy of @mvalentine)

Sawyer had been at Donahue's since happy hour started.  The crew had all gathered there to celebrate Jackie's birthday.  Given the occasion and who they were celebrating, tequila shots appeared in front of her one after the other.   

Breaking into a sweat on the dance floor, Sawyer began to feel quite dizzy.  She weaved and wobbled her way to a stool at the bar.  Trying to regain equilibrium, she rested her elbows on the counter and buried her face into her hands. 

A few moments later, a very tan and handsome man wearing a navy colored Hawaiian print shirt sidled up next to her.  

"Hey there.  How are you doing?" he asked, running fingers through his side swept hair.  "Can I get you something, or maybe just take you home?"

"I'm fine, and no thank you," she replied politely, slowly lifting her head.  She avoided making eye contact with him and kept her eyes trained behind the bar.  She thought if she could get the bartender's attention and order two drinks that this guy would assume she wasn’t there alone. 

She just managed to ask the bartender for the drinks when a towering figure who smelled like a mix of citrus and ocean breeze stepped up to the bar on her other side.  

The men flanking her shared a gentlemanly nod of understanding. The taller of the two then leaned down and whispered near her ear. 

"You look like you’re ready to get out of here.  Do you want to come home with me tonight? Or should I take you back to your place?"

"Um, would you excuse me please?” As quickly as she could without falling over, Sawyer jumped up from the stool and started to walk away from the bar.

“Where are you going?” asked the man who had approached her first.

She whipped her head around in his direction, the quick movement making her feel like she was once again spinning in a teacup.  

“I need to use the restroom.”  

After locking the door, she propped herself against the sink for stability and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.  She opened her most recent text exchange and began typing.

Sawyer took a minute to freshen up before returning to her spot at the bar.  Remembering on her way back that she still needed to settle her tab, she flagged down the bartender and asked for her check.  The two men shared another look over her head, this time one of amusement as Sawyer politely ignored them both.  

The bartender extended the leather folder with her bill, but before she could reach it, the man in the green leather jacket grabbed it from the bartender’s hand.  “Allow me.”

“That’s v-very generous.  But I can’t accept,” she says, prying the folder away from him. 

“And why not?” the man in the blue floral shirt interjected. He nudged her shoulder with his own. “He seems like a great guy.  You should go for it,” he pretended to whisper.  “And I clearly don’t stand a chance against a guy like that, so I’ll bow out.”  He turned to the other man with a friendly tilt of the chin, “She’s all yours, man.” 

Sawyer watched as he returned to the group of surgical interns who were setting up a new game of darts, then turned back to the man who still thought he had a chance.  “I-I’m flattered really. It’s just that I have a boyfriend.”

“If you’re not interested, you can just say so.  No need to use the ‘boyfriend’ excuse,” the man with the blue eyes that she has yet to even notice teased.

Looking around through squinted eyes to see if her knight in shining armor had arrived yet, she defended herself.  “Honest to god, it’s not an excuse.  He should be here any minute.”  

“Well, if that’s really the case, then I’ll move along so he doesn’t get the wrong impression.”

“Thanks.  He does tend to get a bit jealous sometimes.”  

The stranger gave her an incredulous look, but resisted any rebuttal.  He simply bid her goodnight and walked away.

Sawyer stepped out onto the sidewalk.  She attempted to rub the fogginess from her eyes and scanned for someone that resembled Ethan. 

“Rookie, over here,” he announced, meeting her halfway and wrapping his arm around her waist.  

The familiarity of her nickname and his hand squeezing her side sobered her just enough to recognize him. “Boy am I glad to see you.  It was like a meat factory in there tonight.”

“Is that so?” he chuckled.  “Did you tell the piranhas to back off because you are already spoken for? And that I’d kick their asses if they tried to steal my woman away?”

“I did! But this one asshole didn’t believe me.”

Ethan couldn't help but laugh out loud. “An asshole, huh?”

As he guided her into the backseat of the cab, her voice got small as she nervously asked him a question. 

“Ethan, can I just call you my boyfriend all the time from now on? Because ‘I have a boyfriend’ sounds a whole lot better than ‘I have a whatever.’”  

As he slid into the backseat next to her, he gathered her in his arms.  “You’re right, Rookie.  ‘Boyfriend’ makes more sense.  Let’s go with that from now on.” He kissed her forehead as a smile spread across her face.  Her eyes fell shut and then she was out like a light.  

A/N: In case it wasn't obvious, it was Bryce and Ethan that were "hitting" on her.

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Boys of Summer - Part II *Revised*

Moodboard created by @allieboop, edited with the help of @garbagevanfleet 

Pairing: Josh Kiskza x f!reader, Jake Kiszka x f!reader 

Summary: It’s the summer of 1986 and you find yourself starting your first job on your own. You were drawn to the beaches of Ocean City in search of a new start, expecting to fill the days of enjoying whatever the coastal town had to offer. You find yourself thrown into a world you couldn’t have anticipated and the memories made were sure to last a lifetime. 

Word count: 10k

A/N: This is the new edited and revised edition of this chapter. No one is obligated to reread it, but if you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend this one over the first! 

Warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of blood, and implied violence. 

Boys of Summer Playlist, Masterpost

The coastal air blowing through the Pinto’s open windows whipped through your hair and filled your lungs with its sweet, salty nostalgic feeling as you drove over the bridge back onto the mainland, leaving the mile-long stretch of Ocean City behind you for the rest of the evening. It served as the perfect reset for your soul after what you had endured throughout the last few hours of the day. 

Your ever-growing collection of cassette tapes piled onto your passenger seat gave a chance for you to distract yourself, and you popped in and rotated through your favorites while you made the short drive back to your new place.

It was modest given your tight budget on a waitress’s salary, but you were more than thankful you found your wonderful roommate, Cindy. You had only arrived here less than a week ago with your small hatchback bursting beyond its capacity with the majority of your belongings.

When you were away from the crowded city that was usually packed with tourists, the area around here was quite peaceful and serene. The coastal farmland that stretched with fields of corn and soybeans remained relatively quiet and untouched throughout the seasons. After driving a couple of miles inland, you turned the Pinto off the back road and onto a gravel drive leading to your house. 

The tiny bungalow you shared with her was tucked away close to the inlet shoreline, only about a quarter-mile out from the bay. The thick covering of trees created a sense of privacy but still allowed you to peek out and see the view of the water.

The very faded canary-yellow paint of the house had begun to chip away over the years, reflecting its age and wear. It had been paired with cornflower-blue shutters that framed the few windows, giving the home a certain charm that you didn’t find back in the suburbs of your hometown. You immediately fell in love the moment you laid your eyes on it as if everything had been aligned perfectly for you. 

With the help of other roommates throughout the last few years, Cindy had done a decent job at keeping up with most of the maintenance of the property. Although the stained white railing that lined the small front porch needed a thorough scrubbing, she had added her own little touch by scattering a few flower pots that contained blooming marigolds in a variety of colors. An American flag was fastened to the banister, flapping away with the warm breeze rolling off the bay.

You let out a sigh of relief when you didn’t spot Cindy’s car parked in its usual spot in the driveway, because when you cut the engine, all emotional and mental fatigue of the afternoon had found its way to your muscles, making you wince from pain as you crawled out of your car. At this point, you only wanted to shower and crawl right into bed and forget about everything that had happened. 

It was upsetting that you allowed someone to speak to you the way that Jake had, especially with everything you should have said back to him playing in your mind on repeat during your drive home. A part of you just wanted to believe that he was simply a horrible person, someone that you should never give a second thought from here on out. Yet, somewhere tucked away in your heart, you believed there was something in the way he looked at you that said otherwise. 

How could he be so different from Josh? 

Twins. Two brothers who shared the same upbringing and parents were taught the same morals, and even experienced most of the same life events. You wracked your brain for an explanation but came up empty-handed. Josh radiated positivity and energy, welcoming you with such an overwhelming friendliness, comforting you when he could have easily shrugged you off.

The sudden shift in thoughts back to Josh made your stomach flip into knots with unease. That was another thing about your day you could have never anticipated. It was your first day on the job, and you were already crushing on a coworker. 

How professional.

You doubted yourself, thinking these new feelings were simply due to him being the first person who showed you genuine kindness and respect in an unfamiliar environment. That’s what you tried to tell yourself as you metaphorically stomped the embers out before they had a chance to catch. 

While you tried to convince yourself that the fluttery feeling in your chest was nothing more than your delusions, the small piece of scrap paper with Josh’s number was beginning to burn a hole inside the small green fanny pack that was still hitched around your waist. You stood in the kitchen, replaying the interaction you had with him over and over in your mind while you poured yourself a glass of sweet tea from the fridge. 

Its mere existence would destroy any chance for you to decompress, causing your anxiousness to churn in the pit of your stomach, knowing if you blew him off tonight he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it tomorrow. If you did decide to go, you would possibly run into Jake and relive everything that went horribly wrong today, and dealing with him made you feel like a timid dog with its tail tucked shamefully between your legs. 

You dug it out of the tiny bag, carefully smoothing out the wrinkled paper with your fingertips. You mouthed the digits as you read them, smiling at the little doodle of a sun at the bottom. You placed it onto the center of the counter and stood back as if it contained some supernatural ability to suck you in. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been pacing aimlessly within the confines of the tiny kitchen when you heard the familiar crunching of a vehicle’s tires rolling over the gravel outside. You peeked out the front window to see Cindy making her way into the house with two large brown paper bags in her arms. 

“Hey!” she chimed in her usual cheerful voice while coming through the front entrance, kicking the door closed behind her with her foot. 

“Hey!” You called back, trying to match her upbeat tone with your greeting. “What’s in the bags?” You tipped your chin to gesture at the two brown paper bags as she sat them down on the avocado-green Formica countertop.

Despite her petite frame, she was able to carry in the bulky groceries with ease. She was dressed in her uniform that was similar to yours, a baby blue t-shirt with a fish printed across the front and khaki shorts. She was effortlessly pretty with her natural, sandy-blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail with one of her pink scrunchies. You were envious of how the sun had kissed her tan skin with a perfect dusting of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. 

“I was driving from work and stopped by that one produce stand on the way home. I couldn’t let it go when you said you’ve never tried the sweet corn here, so I just had to get some. I swear, it’s like the yummiest thing ever. A little bit of butter, and a sprinkle of salt and you have perfection.” She rambled on while pulling out several ears of corn that were still covered in their husks. She looked over her shoulder as you made your way around the island. “Have any plans tonight?”

For a moment you considered sharing Josh’s bonfire invitation, but because you were still undecided about it, and realizing she was the kind of friend that would drag you out of the house from the idea of having a night out, you stayed tight-lipped. 

You shook your head through a yawn, “I don’t think so. I’ll probably just go to bed early. It’s been a pretty rough day.”

“Oh my god!” Cindy gasped and threw her palm over her open mouth with eyes widened in guilt. “I totally forgot it was your first day! How did it go?! What happened?”

“Honestly, it started fine for the first day. It was the usual training stuff, but one of the bartenders was really rude to me all day for some reason,” you explained, stacking the ears of corn on themselves as she pulled them out of the bag. 

Her maintained brows pulled together, causing a tiny crease to form between them when she asked, “Who?”

“I forgot you told me you know everybody around here,” you chuckled, picking at the stringy bits of corn husk that have started to litter the countertop. 

A smug grin tugged at her mouth. “That I do, but I also go to Queen’s Anchor a lot with the girls, so I probably know who you’re talking about.”

You hesitated giving up the information but the wiggling of her brows in anticipation of your answer made you finally give in, “Jake.”

She stopped pulling the fresh produce out of the bag, freezing her movements to look right at you. “Jake Kiszka?”

“That’s the one.” You shrugged, but still noted her strange reaction and the way she said his name. “You know him?”

She paused in silence for a few seconds before her dark brows in a confused expression, clearly not believing what you said. “Yeah…but he was rude to you?”

“Like, exceptionally.” You physically cringed at those encounters that were playing in your mind. A shudder rolled through you when you thought about how he reprimanded you in front of everyone. 

“That’s very weird considering he practically flirts with every woman on the planet,” Cindy snorted loudly. After emptying the paper bags, she neatly folded them up and tucked them underneath the sink cabinet.

“Oh, don’t worry. I got to see that too. In rea-time,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes to fully express the day’s frustration to her. You followed it with a deflated sigh, “I guess there’s something about me that’s incredibly off-putting.”

She reached into the cabinet for a glass, muffling the sound of her voice behind the wooden door, “Hey! You know that’s not true. It’s not your fault he’s a total idiot.” You watched as she meandered over to the fridge to retrieve an ice tray. “Maybe you can do him a favor and pull that stick out of his ass.”

“I’m sure he’d tell me I was doing it wrong,” you muttered under your breath with a heavy roll of your eyes. 

“Sounds about right,” she giggled as she walked towards you with glass in hand, but her eyes locked onto the folded piece of scrap paper laying on the counter. Picking it up, she asked, “What’s this?”

“The guy I trained with today gave me his number,” you explained, hoping it would shift the topic of conversation from Jake. “He invited me out to a bonfire tonight.”

She nearly squealed in excitement before you could finish your sentence, “You should go! It would be great for you to get out of here for the night. Summer only lasts so long, ya know.” 

She was right. Summer would pass quickly before you knew it, and the last thing you wanted was to spend it all working and staying at home. 

You considered it, tossing the idea around in your head. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not sure if I should though.”

Something in her eyes flickered when she remembered to ask for a vital piece of information. “Wait… who’s the guy you trained with?”

“Josh,” you blurted out without a second thought. 

“Kiszka?!”

You were taken aback by her sudden outburst. “Is there something wrong?”

“No! No, not at all, I mean…you should totally still go tonight…” She trailed off, picking at the polish on her nails, making it obvious she was holding something back. 

“Cindy-“ you pressed.

“It’s really nothing. Just-“  She did that same awkward pause when she heard about Jake. She brushed her fingers through her teased bangs while huffing out a sigh, “Be careful with him.“

The warning didn’t seem to match, and you thought she might have mixed him up with someone else. You played along to hear her out from your curiosity. “How come?”

She didn’t answer right away, as if searching for the right words. “Uhh… It’s just that he’s a bit of a flirt as well. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

You wondered what he could have done to give that impression to her, but at the same time, her saying that about Josh didn’t surprise you from how he seemed to be based on your short time spent together today. He was undoubtedly charming, and to most people, definitely flirtatious. Although he didn’t seem the type to play women, you could never be too sure. 

You quickly interjected, brushing away the thought, “No, no. I think it's just a friend thing. I don’t think he’s interested in me like that anyway.”

Her brows were still drawn together in a look of worry as she attempted to gauge your reaction, searching for anything that might be off. “Are you sure?”

“Cindy, I just met him a few hours ago.”

She shifted into her usual relaxed, cheerful demeanor - maybe to backpedal the whole exchange in fear that she might have upset you. “He is cute… I was just curious.”

“I know you’re curious. I think you know more about everyone in this town than anyone I will ever meet,” you laughed, but you were having a hard time shaking the things she said. “I’m not sure if I should even go now,” you mumbled quietly, shifting uncomfortably to stand on your feet. 

“No, you should go! I really didn’t mean to freak you out. If it's a friend thing it's not a big deal, right?” She handed the piece of paper that was sitting on the counter back to you. “Seriously, give him a call.”

You chewed on your lip anxiously. “I don’t know…“

“Give him a call or I’m going to drag you there myself.”

For over an hour, Cindy had gossiped about her job with you, falling right back into the familiar banter you have grown to enjoy through the past week of getting to know her. Yet the feeling like she was hiding something about Josh had snuck away to the corner of your mind. Sensing your apprehension about spending time with him, she insisted a few more times that everything was fine and she had overreacted.

After dealing with her persistent nagging, you eventually got the courage to make the call. You were careful with dialing the numbers as you pushed the plastic buttons, slow and precise to ensure you didn’t make a single error. Holding it up to your ear, you heard it ring and ring. By the fourth ring, someone had finally picked up. 

A raspy voice answered, “Hello?”

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating just hanging the phone up altogether. “Hey, Josh?”

“Yeah? Who’s this?” 

So he didn’t recognize you over the phone by voice alone.

“The girl you trained today.”

“Who?” He asked in a groggy voice, sounding like he had woken from a long nap. 

Great. He had already forgotten you.

Letting out a deep frustrated sigh, you gave in to using his ridiculous nickname bestowed upon you, “It’s Greenie, Josh.”

“OH! Greenie! So are you coming tonight?!” You almost had to pull the phone away from your ear from the sudden raise in the volume of his voice.

Even though you were calling him, you were still hedging your bets with everything, preparing yourself to tell him you weren’t going to make it. You were making this call as a courtesy to tell him not to hold out his plans for you, but maybe you wanted to know if he still would try to convince you to go. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“Come on! You’ll have a blast. I promise.” He was already tugging at the strings of your heart with that saccharine-sweet voice of his. He could probably convince you of anything if he really tried. 

“I don’t know. I won’t know anybody but you.” 

A breathy laugh scratched its way through the line. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“Josh!”

“Okay, okay. I’m just saying it will be great, and you’ll get to meet everyone too. I’ll make it worth it to you, okay?”

You chewed on your lip again, and that fluttery feeling in your stomach returned. “Okay. You promise?”

“I pinky-swear.”

“You can’t pinky-swear over the phone.”

“Just give me your fucking address, Greenie!” He laughed into the receiver.

You had successfully won you over, and you gave up your address to have him tell you he would pick you up in about an hour from now. Cindy had gotten ready to spend the evening bar-hopping with some of her girlfriends. She wished you luck as she walked out the door, demanding that you let her know how everything went when you got home. 

Knowing Josh had already seen you in your work attire, you weren’t going to bother stressing out about your looks or outfit. What you desperately needed was a hot shower and a change of clothes. It was quick, only really out of the necessity of washing off the sweat and restaurant funk from your job off your body. Knowing you’ll be by the ocean, you threw on one of your basic swimsuits and covered it with a pair of cotton shorts and a simple t-shirt. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, you were thankful that recent sun exposure in the last few days blessed you with more of a tanned glow than usual. You only applied a thin coat of mascara to your lashes and a sweep of pink blusher across your cheeks. 

You did your best not to pace anxiously around the house in anticipation knowing you had about twenty minutes to spare - if Josh happened to be here on time. You flipped on the radio and decided to kill the extra time by cleaning up the dirty dishes that were piling up in the sink and tidying up the living space.

A white ‘77 Jeep Wrangler pulled into the drive almost thirty minutes past the original time Josh had given you over the phone. The soft top had been pulled down, leaving you with the view of him waving frantically from the driver’s seat. He added the touch of a few impatient honks to signal his arrival. 

You scrambled around to gather your things, locked up the house, and ran over to greet him as he idled behind the Pinto. In any other circumstance, you might have been annoyed at someone running as late as he had, but the way his smile beamed at you made you forget the inconvenience. 

“You’re late.” You popped the door handle and crawled into the Jeep. 

He ignored your scolding, and quipped back, “We’re on beach time, baby.” He had his aviators pulled down over his eyes, and was still dressed in a similar white t-shirt and shorts combination like he had earlier in the day, matching your choice of outfit as well. 

You settled into the seat, grumbling, “You’re so corny. I’m pretty sure only retired old people say things like that.”

He shifted into reverse, and with a hand behind your headrest, he replied in his usual soft, warm tone, “You could learn a lot from them, darling. Seems like they might have stuff figured out.”

When Josh took a left instead of a right turn- which would have led you both back into Ocean City- you asked, “We aren’t going back into the city?”

“No, Greenie, we would be arrested within five minutes if we had a bonfire on the beach there,” Josh chuckled.

“Oh, right. Where are we going then?”

“Assateague.” He looked over and asked, “Been there?”

You shook your head. “No, I don't think so.” The name seemed kind of familiar to you, but it had been years since your family had brought you to this area for vacation. 

“It’s not far from here. It's just a bit south of Ocean City. The park is normally closed off for campers but my younger brother, Sam, usually comes in clutch for us when he dates one of the lifeguards each summer.”

“That seems hella convenient for you guys.”

A grimace flashes on his face before he continues, “Usually it all works out until they figure out he’s dating another girl at the same time. Let’s just say we’ve learned to take advantage when we have it.”

Fantastic. Another Kiszka brother that was a flirt with women. 

“Why don’t you date a lifeguard?” You teased, curious and nervous about the potential answer. He only laughed again at your question, so you add, “Have you?”

This made him break his view on the road to look at you, and he flashed another one of his playful winks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Josh calling you out made you flush hot with embarrassment, and you wondered to yourself why you had even asked in the first place. 

Would you have been jealous if he had said yes? 

You just decided to let his question linger in the air between you in an attempt to save some of your dignity. Thankfully, he didn’t let you sit in the tension for too long before blurting out with his tone more serious than you’ve heard yet, “Oh! Just giving you a head’s up. And trust me on this one. Do not, I repeat, do not go up to the horses.”

You huffed out a breath of laughter, “Horses?” 

“Yeah. There are wild ponies that live on the island, and speaking from experience-“ he paused to laugh as he shook his head while reminiscing back on a memory. “Let's just say that you do not want to be drunk and decide to pet them. It did not end very well.”

“Sounds to me like you’re a dumbass,” you giggled to yourself and let the image of him being chased by a very angry horse on the beach play in your mind. 

You look over to see that crooked smile of his. “You have no idea.”

As much as you wanted to play this game and avoid the topic, it had continued to eat away in the back of your mind. “So what happened with you and Jake today?”

“Oh...nothing really,” Josh mumbled and you witnessed his body instantly tensing up as if you just flipped an internal switch.

“Nothing?” Guilt instantly settled in your gut. You hated thinking that you started a feud between the twin brothers.

“Yeah, nothing that you need to worry about or stress over, Greenie.” When he glanced over for a second and saw your frustrated expression, he quickly reassured you, “I promise. Just try and enjoy tonight and not think about him, okay?”

You accepted his words and just nodded in response, staring out to watch the scenery as the sunset was casting over in its final moments of the day. Both of you continued the drive in the few minutes of silence with the radio's volume set just above a low hum until “Raspberry Beret” started playing on the station. Josh gasped and immediately turned the knob so the music was blasting out of the speakers.

The once tense atmosphere between the two of you quickly dissipated when Josh started to sing along, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the Jeep’s steering wheel. He would break away from watching the road to look at you, with that massive, goofy grin plastered across his face. Your giggles only fueled his antics more. He would take his hand off the shifter to wave it around in animated movements in unison with the little dancing in his seat while he sang along. He would even point to you in an attempt to get you to join him during the duet portion of the song. 

Through the fit of laughter, you asked, “You like Prince?” 

He held up his index finger, warning you, “Be careful. I’ve been known to seduce women with “When Doves Cry”.”

“So I’ve been told,” you nudged his shoulder playfully with the taunt. 

It was almost like his ear pricked up to make sure he heard you correctly. “From who? Was it Kat?”

“No. Cindy, my roommate,” you corrected him, and the things she mentioned before you left started to pop into the forefront of your mind again. You shook off the concern with a laugh and a side glance at him. “What’s this about Kat?”

“I plead the fifth, your honor,” he lifted his right hand from the shifter once more up in the air to mimic taking the oath. 

“You would,” you teased him, shaking your head in faux disapproval. 

“What did she say about me?” He asked, keeping his voice light and casual, but ultimately allowing his curiosity to peek its way through. 

“Cindy? All she told me was that I need to be careful with you because you liked to-' You caught yourself before you were about to admit the rest of Cindy’s warning to you. You didn’t want to dampen the evening by making Josh uncomfortable or implying that you were even a little interested in him. “You know what? Don’t worry about it.”

ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ

The sun had almost completely set on the horizon as you crossed over the bridge from the mainland onto the small island. Josh pulled the Jeep off onto a hidden dirt path that was tucked away from the main entrance to the campgrounds. It was out of reach from the public, offering the seclusion they needed. It didn’t take long for you to see the orange-red glow from the flames of the bonfire up over the sand dunes and the hum of drunken voices from the group of people already on the beach. 

After cutting the engine, Josh quickly hopped out and started towards the crowd, almost too eager to wait for you by the car. He looked back towards you with a shit-eating grin, “Come on, Greenie!”

“Josh, wait up!” You shouted after him, kicking off your shoes as soon as you hit the soft sand. His strides seemed effortless as he made his way down the dunes to greet everyone that had already arrived. You fell back behind him, holding the sandals in your hands as you closed the short distance, thankful the sand had cooled off considerably since the hot afternoon.

The initial concoction of nerves that made your stomach do nauseous flips when you got here started to slowly subside as you took in the scene around you. Music was playing on the radio from a small boombox someone had brought along. People were gathered around the roaring fire, perched up on folding beach chairs, blankets, and a collection of plastic coolers. Muffled conversations were intertwined with the dull lapping of waves hitting the surf, allowing you to set your mind at ease.

Josh made sure to introduce you to the group the best he could, sometimes getting distracted from being pulled into other conversations. It left you alone to fill in the interactions with strangers with the standard small talk. In reality, you were out of your comfort zone, and after a while of pushing through the initial awkwardness, you ended up sitting by yourself on one of the large coolers placed around the bonfire. 

You had a feeling that this exact thing would happen, but at least Jake didn’t seem to be here yet. You didn’t feel any anger at Josh for not giving you his full attention, but rather you were more frustrated with yourself at not being able to mesh right into his inner circle of friends right away. 

You spent the time alone either watching the fire in front of you or studying how the moonlight danced across the ocean waves. You even considered for a moment that you should take off from the group to walk along the shore to look for shells, waiting for when Josh was ready to take you back home.   

That’s when you spotted two young men walking along the shore holding surfboards under their arms as they approached the rest of the group. You assumed they came straight from the water, as they were still dripping seawater with a coating of wet sand sticking to their feet and legs. 

One of the guys broke off running, dropping his board at his feet to tackle an unsuspecting Josh into the sand, sending them both tumbling over into a pile of limbs. Fits of laughter were broken up with a string of curses and grunts from the both of them as they wrestled on the beach.

The other man had long, jet-black hair that started to curl as it began drying in the summer air. He was slightly taller than the first with broader shoulder muscles that flexed as he stuck the board upright into the sand. 

He greeted a few people as they approached him, either with a friendly smack on the shoulder or bumping fists together. At first, watching the simple interactions from the distance warmed your heart. It also made you ache with the reality that you were alone out here, and the realization that you’re far away from your childhood home set in more than ever. You envied the closeness they developed, even with the strangers around them. 

Even throughout childhood, you always struggled to make close bonds with people at home or even when you were older in college. It seemed to come second nature to the people here. It could have been due to working together through the summer seasons here, or maybe building friendships just came more naturally to them. Even with new scenery in your life now, you still felt like the odd one benched on the sidelines looking in.

“Jake’s new girl?” The male voice pulled you from the mental fog of your daydreaming. Your eyes refocused on the man with the dark curly hair that had come in from surfing in the ocean. 

It took you a moment for your brain to catch up to his question. He had given you a friendly, warm smile while your brain took a few seconds to process what he had said while he started drying off with a towel. 

You caught a glimpse of Jake walking past with a blonde woman he flirted with hours beforehand at the restaurant. She had her arm wrapped around his waist, giggling away at something he must’ve said. He has dressed in a pair of light-wash worn denim jeans rolled up at the ankle, paired with another button-up shirt that was mostly opened to reveal his chest. His long hair wasn’t pulled back in the loose bun he had sported at work earlier, but instead, it was worn down with a pair of black Ray-Ban’s sitting on the top of his head. 

“Oh god, no.” you scoffed loudly, shaking your head so violently at the idea that his smile shifted into a confused look, but for only a second before it returned to a friendly expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.” He lifted his hands in defense. “It’s just that usually when there is a new face around here, it's because of him,” he explained while draping the damp towel over the back of one of the beach chairs behind him.

“That’s funny because I don’t think he could hate me any more than he does,” you mumbled to yourself, trying hard not to wince while you replayed the harsh words Jake said to you earlier in the day. 

“I don’t think I believe that.” He brushed you off with a lazy wave, but when you gave him a pained expression, he added, “But if that’s true, he’s missing out because I really can’t imagine how anyone could hate you.” 

“Maybe you should ask him.” You pointed a finger behind him, gesturing to Jake introducing the woman he had brought around the group.

“Hmm.” He clicked his tongue without even glancing over his shoulder. “I’d rather not. I’m enjoying talking to you way more,” he hummed softly while popping the plastic lid to dig around the cooler, grabbing two bottles from the melting ice. He offered one of them to you. “Can’t buy you a drink, so this is the best I can do for now.”

“Thanks!” You smiled at the offer and reached out to grab the beer, but he quickly pulled it back. 

“Hold up.” He leaned over and popped the metal cap on the lid of the cooler with a smack of his palm. He handed the beer back to you, looking around to find the man who brought you here. “So you’re not with Jake, but what about Josh?” 

“No, no. It’s not like that!” You insisted in a voice louder than you expected, protesting the idea for a second time tonight.

Did it really appear to people that this was a date?

“You sure?” He tipped his chin in the direction behind you, making you turn your head around. It was clear he was hinting at Josh, who was looking at you while immersed in a conversation with someone beside him. He smiled when you made eye contact before turning away to respond to the person. 

You spun back to the man that offered you the beer. “Maybe he just has a staring problem.”

He flashed you a smile that edged the line of just being friendly. “I don’t blame him.”

“So do you flirt with every girl as soon as you meet them?” You teased, letting a smile form as you brought the lip of the glass bottle to your lips. He took the chance and decided to sit next to you on the cooler close enough that your knees were barely touching. 

“No, just the pretty ones,” he whispered while leaning in, closing the already short distance to only a few inches between you. His smoky-brown eyes, framed with long, dark lashes, looked right into yours. His blatant interest in you should have scared you off running in the other direction, but there was something so calming and inviting about him. The brief, intimate moment you were sharing was quickly interrupted when someone cut in.

“I see you’ve met Daniel.” 

You both looked up to see the same man who had tackled Josh, standing before you while he tried to catch his breath from the exertion of fighting around in the sand. Now that you got to see him up close, you noted how young he looked with the features of his face holding onto their boyish youthfulness. He extended out an open hand, one that was covered in gritty sand, and introduced himself, “Hey, I’m Sam, the youngest and clearly the most handsome and undeniably charming Kiszka brother.” 

Daniel cleared his throat and rolled his eyes, “Thanks, Sam.“ His expression returned to a much softer one meant for you. “And just Danny is fine.”

You offered your name and nodded in response, taking Sam’s hand in your own for a loose handshake. Brushing the sand off your fingers and on your leg, you asked, “You’re Josh and Jake’s brother?”

“I am! How long have you known them for?” He reached and pulled out the towel Danny had used and started drying off his hair which was now tangled and caked in sand. 

“Just met them today, actually. I started-“

“Hey, Daniel. Can you help me with this cooler?” Jake’s voice cut through the air unexpectedly, interrupting another one of your thoughts - something he seemed to be an expert at. His tone and body language were direct and stiff, coming across as almost upset about something Danny might have done. 

“Sure, man.” Danny glanced back at you, revealing another confused look on his face before letting a heavy sigh escape his chest as he stood up to his feet again. Jake waited for him with arms crossed over his chest while standing across the other side of the bonfire and made sure to avoid looking at you the entire time. Danny gave you a reassuring smile.“I’ll be right back.”

In his friend’s short absence, Sam filled you in on some details of the relationship between him and his older brothers. You were tempted to pry further, but he didn’t get the chance to get far in conversation before a girl came running up from behind and pulled him into a tight, intimate hug. Based on what Josh had told you earlier, and the recognizable red bathing suit peeking out from underneath her clothes, you assumed she was one of the lifeguards that would find himself involved with. 

As they stayed locked in their embrace while exchanging kisses and affectionate touches with each other, you averted your eyes only to see Jake and Danny walking back over the dunes with another large cooler. After dropping the heavy container in the sand, Jake made his way back over to sit next to the woman he brought along. Danny grabbed another ice-cold beer and started to join in the drunken chatter with the others. You couldn’t hide the soured expression on your face when it seemed like he was now ignoring you. He hadn’t even bothered to look at you once since he came back to the group with Jake. 

What did Jake say to him? 

You swallowed back the negative feeling aching in your chest, convincing yourself that the drastic change in his demeanor was nothing to be concerned about. You knew that you could be in your head about these things as overthinking tended to be one of your bad habits throughout your life. You shook off any intrusive thoughts, summing it up to him catching up with buddies and he had only given you a friendly introduction before.

 Throughout different points in the night, Josh dropped in to check on you when he could break away from the others, usually with another beer in his hand reserved just for you. Through your quiet observations, you quickly learned that many people within the group knew each other through working in the many restaurants that lined the beachfront area. It was a small community and coming here together after working their shifts like this was their sacred ritual.

 It would take a little more time spent together to feel genuinely included in the tight-knit group, but you could tell that they truly welcomed you with open arms. You still held out for Danny to come around again, especially after having an exchange that you would consider an interest in you, but he never made his way back over to talk to you again.

Thankfully, the rest of the night progressed smoothly without any other confrontations or issues, and you made an effort to stay clear out of Jake’s path. Much to your luck, he had been too preoccupied with the blonde under his arm to even really notice your presence, and he didn’t make a point to acknowledge you in any way. It was only when you were close enough within earshot, that you learned that her name was Jenny and that she was only visiting for the week on vacation. 

From a first impression standpoint, she seemed decently friendly from what you could tell given that you were never properly introduced to each other. She was young and flirty, vibrant with bubbly energy, and perhaps even a bit naive to everything around her. There was a fiery determination in her to have as much fun as possible, living freely through life without responsibilities, and she clung onto Jake as if the experience depended on it. You could have been envious of it, letting yourself wonder if she thought Jake would call her when she finally went back home after her vacation had ended. In hindsight, it might have been a conniving thought, but you smiled to yourself whenever she commented “you would love this” about her life back home when talking to him. His responses usually consisted of a single nod or hum at the sentiment, letting her carry on with her rambling as the hours passed by.

As the beers continued to flow through into the late hours of the evening, the once high level of energy started to shift as drunken conversations slowly dragged on. 

“Is this all you guys do out here?” You asked no one in particular, but it was Josh, who was laying out on a beach blanket looking up at the night sky, that answered your question.

“What do you mean?” He asked with a rasp to his voice that stitched seamlessly into the crackling embers of the bonfire. 

“I just figured there’d be like a party game or something,” you huffed out after finishing the last sip of warm beer from a bottle that had its label picked off completely out of boredom. 

“What, like ‘Truth or Dare’?” He chuckled as he started to prop up himself on his elbows, giving you a better view of his face. The image of him in the flickering light from the fire casting over his tanned skin, making the apples of his cheeks glow in the orange flame, almost made you lose your thought completely. 

“I was thinking of a game more like beer pong-“

“Did someone say ‘Truth or Dare’?!” Sam shouted over everyone else, scrambling to his feet with beaming excitement when he caught wind of the idea. You weren’t sure how much he had to drink but it was becoming obvious that the amount was starting to catch up to him. His unbridled enthusiasm was unfortunately only met with a few groans and verbal protests to the idea.

“Sam, what are we? Ten years old?” Jake mocked with bitter distaste and judgment, finally adding input to the group’s conversation for the first time this evening. 

“Shut up, Jake. You are never any fun,” Sam snapped, letting the last few words slur together while waving a hand to dismiss his older brother’s judgmental remarks.

With everyone eventually giving in, Sam started the game off by going around the group, and nearly everyone chose the option “truth” which put a significant lull in the excitement that Sam was biting for. One of the guys who was feeling brave chose the other option and was dared by the others to strip naked and run nude into the freezing, cold ocean. The moment of cheers and clapping was only followed by another round of “truths”, causing Sam to feel incredibly impatient.

When you followed around the circle listening to people spill their secrets, your eyes fell on Jenny sitting across Jake’s lap while they snuggled together on the beach chair. They were both unbothered without a shred of concern with the game the majority of you got roped into playing. 

He was busy trailing his fingers across her tanned skin, studying her reaction with each languid stroke of his hand up and down her arm. He let them slip effortlessly under the tiny strap of her swimsuit that rested on her shoulder in an attempt to grab her undivided attention. You watched as they stared into each other's eyes. She giggled when he tugged playfully at the thin strap, and the gasp that was just barely above a whisper leaving her lips when he released it to snap against her. He tipped the bridge of his nose into the crook of her neck while tracing his fingertips across the area right above the hem of her top, dancing teasingly along the exposed, bare skin. 

You knew it was something you shouldn’t stare at, but you just weren’t able to avert your eyes even if you tried. You just weren’t sure why the sight of them like this elicited these uncomfortable feelings inside you. 

Was it Jealousy? Disgust? Were you just upset that he didn’t reveal the sensitive side that he was showing her? Or was it because you wanted to be her? 

The latter made you physically shudder and you scrambled to bury the thought as quickly as it entered your mind. 

It was when he broke away and looked directly at you - with the darkness of his pupils boring deeply into yours - and tilted his head and bit into the soft skin of her jawline below her ear that made you realize he wanted you to see this. You just couldn’t comprehend the reason behind all of it. She let out a whiny moan, quiet enough so no one else could hear her if they weren’t paying attention. You froze, and threw your eyes to the sand knowing that you were caught red-handed. 

“Come on, guys! Someone needs to pick ‘Dare’ already!” Sam’s pleas were the thing to save you from having to watch the scene before you any longer. He made eye-contact and shouted your name while pointing an index finger towards you.

You aggressively shook your head, bringing up your hands in protest. “I don't think so. I’m probably going to sit this one out, guys.”

“Please! It will be fun!” He clasped his hands together at his chest in his act of shameless begging.

With everyone’s eyes honed in on you, and with his pleading eyes, you eventually gave in. “Okay, Sam. Just one.” He cheered in victory with winning you over, and pondered for way longer than he should have for a dare to your turn in the game. 

“I think she should kiss Josh.” Kat’s taunting voice cut through the silence, and she darted her eyes back and forth between you and Josh to gauge your reaction. 

You hadn’t spoken a word to her since you arrived, mostly due to the fact it was obvious that she wasn’t a fan of yours. Her suggestion was laced with the same disapproval and judgment towards you earlier that day when you first met. It was also clear, like it was written upping her forehead that this was not said with the best of intentions as she pulled her lips into a devilish, cocky grin. 

“No, no. Greenie, you don't have to listen to them. Seriously.” Josh insisted as he suddenly brought himself to a sitting position on the blanket spread out across the sand. 

Sam whooped and hollered, drowning out Josh’s voice entirely. “She totally should! This is great!” His glazed eyes found you. “Greenie, I dare you,” he teased, using Josh’s nickname through his slurred speech. 

“Greenie-“ Josh tried to interject one more time with his brows pulled up in concern. 

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted through a weak smile, not entirely sure what motivated the decision you were about to make. This was all meant to be an embarrassment for you, but you didn’t want to give anyone, especially Kat, the satisfaction of bailing out. 

Any inhibitions you could have had were pushed right off to the side as you stumbled from your sitting position on the cooler to close the distance between Josh and yourself. Your clumsiness did not fail to show its face when you suddenly caught your foot over something piled in the sand in front of him. You tumbled and fell forward faster than you had anticipated and instinctively reached out to brace yourself on his shoulders.

Thankfully, he was able to catch you in his open arms and steadied your body over his. Feeling more bold in your slightly drunken state - and without another second of hesitation, you smashed your lips harshly against his. Thinking back, it probably should have been a chaste, friendly kiss, because you must have surprised him with how he instantly froze underneath you. His hands stayed wrapped around your upper arms from when you fell into him. 

Josh pulled back slightly leaving only enough space to smile against your lips and let a soft giggle bounce in his throat. He slowly trailed his open hands up your arms, over the tops of your bare shoulders to finally wrap around the back of your neck. He guided you back into the kiss, making you melt effortlessly into him as his lips brushed gently across yours. Every movement he made was feather-light and almost calculated with a calm steadiness to test these uncharted waters with you. 

If it wasn’t for every single one of your senses being completely focused solely on Josh, you might have noticed that everyone was sitting around the both of you in silence, if not total shock. They had only expected a quick, maybe even slightly awkward peck between the two of you. If you were to look back on the experience, you might admit that you probably had forgotten their existence altogether.

You were simply too immersed in how his slender fingers weaved delicately through your hair to pull you into him tighter than before. With your own hands placed firmly on his chest, you started to feel his breathing shake with each ragged exhale of his lungs under your palms. He must have been sharing the same amount of bravery when he flicked his tongue across your lip in an act of asking permission. You were quick to grant it to him, opening your mouth slightly with the invitation. 

It had been too long since you had shared anything remotely similar to this with anyone, and you wished you could live in this moment forever. He let out a desperate moan into you as soon as your tongue danced across his. You melted into it, finding everything about Josh to be warm and addicting. It enveloped you in every sense, from how he tasted to how his skin felt on your face as he brushed his thumbs across your flushed cheeks. It was delicate with a subtle sweetness, yet still containing the burning desire that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest.

You should have been embarrassed by how you straddled yourself on his lap while you dragged your hands up the length of his neck and through his hair. Maybe you should have been ashamed of your hungry desire when you instinctively tugged the loose curls through your fingers and pulled them from his scalp. The simple action had caused him to groan and nip at your bottom lip in response. The sharp sensation was enough to elicit a hiss through your teeth and make you pull away from him for the first time.

The break in contact gave you both the chance to catch your breath, and also allowed everyone else to finally react with them erupting in a mix of cheers and whistling that would make anyone blush a beet red hue.  

The way Josh looked over you, combined with alcohol flowing through your system, made you giggle from the unexpected predicament you were now both in. He ignored everyone around you and let his half-lidded eyes drift slowly down the features of your face while he swept his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip. He let his tongue peek out to wet his own lips as if he was reliving the memory of how you felt, or maybe the action was just out of wanting a little bit more of you. 

He leaned forward so his lips brushed ever-so-slightly across the shell of your ear and whispered in a panting breath, “You’re pretty good at that.” 

The intoxicating warmth of his breath fanning across your skin made a shudder roll through the length of your back. Despite the warm summer air and heat rolling off the bonfire next to you, goosebumps instantly formed on the surface of your skin. You leaned into it for a desperate chase for more. Before letting it all come to an end, he gave a final playful nip to your earlobe and leaned back on the blanket under him. 

The commotion going on behind you catapulted you back into the reality of what just happened between you. You had made out with Josh for the first time within twenty-four hours of meeting him in front of everyone - in front of a group of people that you barely even knew. Hell, you couldn’t remember most of their names if you’d tried. You weren’t even entirely sure if you liked each other more than being friends.

The flood of overwhelming thoughts and feelings circling around in your clouded mind were nearly enough to ruin everything if it wasn’t for how Josh smiled at you. Everything about it was perfect, somehow easing the nerves and convincing you that everything was okay, but also leaving you with uncertainty of your situation. 

Before you really had the chance to process any of it, your eyes flicked from his face and locked onto the silhouettes of two people standing off in the distance. After taking a second to focus your eyesight, you realized it was two men standing near the entrance of the dunes. 

“Josh, who are those guys?” His expression dropped the second he heard the new panicked tone in your voice. You signaled with your eyes to look behind him, making him turn immediately. 

It seemed like every muscle in his body tensed all at once when he saw them. You watched a heavy swallow bob low in his throat as you sat trapped in silence together until he scrambled to his feet. “Uh…hold on.” 

“Are they cops?” You asked in a meek voice that let your anxiety and fear break through. You remembered that Josh implied during the drive that all of you really shouldn’t even be on this beach, and that being arrested for trespassing - something that was not on your summer checklist - was a very real possibility. 

“No, no. I’ll take care of it. Just stay here, okay?”  He shook his head, darting his eyes back and forth between you and the men off in the distance. The hint of stress now coating his voice did little to reassure you. You reached to grab his hand to stop him from leaving, but he patted your shoulder instead. 

You looked around for anyone else to butt in, eventually locking eyes with Sam, but he only shrugged lazily in response. The only one that seemed to share any amount of concern with you was Jake.

He was also looking in the direction of the strange men, albeit still choosing to ignore you altogether. You followed his focus, and continued to watch in the distance as Josh caught up to them. He stood there for a few seconds and had the two men follow him back where the cars were parked, disappearing out of your line of sight.

You sat on the blanket for what was probably close to a half an hour, waiting for Josh to return to you. You were undeniably restless as you stared at the spot where Josh left, and if you had picked up the habit of nail biting in your past, they would have been chewed down to raw nubs at this point. 

Everyone had shuffled along in an unbothered state as they started to pack up their belongings, working their way back to the lot with their coolers and chairs. Jake and Jenny were nowhere to be seen as they broke off from the group minutes beforehand. 

You had concerns that Josh could have left you there stranded without a ride home. You didn’t think he would do it intentionally, but the obvious change in body language when he saw those men made the worry brew inside you.

Having had enough of waiting around, you grabbed your shoes and headed your way back towards the Jeep, praying under your breath that it was still sitting where Josh had left it. The surface of the beach felt quicksand with how your knees wobbled and ached with each exhausted step. When you were nearly off the beach, you were cursed with the sight of Jake and Jenny entangled together once again. This time however, Jake had ditched any subtlety, no longer teasing the idea to you. 

He had her propped up with her back against the wooden stall of the shower that was used to hose off sand from the beach. One of his legs was slotted between hers, and you wanted to ignore how she grinded her hips against the top of her thigh. His hand was tugging the hair at the nape of her neck with the other grabbing her chin to pull her lips to his. She had hitched her knee around his waist with her arms locked around his shoulders. You grimaced as you saw his tongue slipping into her mouth, an action that had abandoned any sense of propriety.

The mess of hungry, sensual moans and desperate grabbing of hands that made you so sick to your stomach you could have vomited. Not wanting to witness another second, you shielded your face and walked by as quickly as you could hoping that they didn’t notice you. You were not willing to give him the pleasure of knowing how much it was affecting you.

You padded across the pavement, and a feeling of relief washed over you when you spotted the white Jeep parked in the same spot. When you approached the passenger side door you almost jumped out of your skin seeing Josh already sitting in the driver’s seat alone in the dark.

“Where have you been?!” You scolded, driving the frustration in your tone. 

“Oh fuck!” You had startled him as well, making him flinch dramatically from the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry, Greenie. I didn’t mean to-“

When he turned to look at you, he swept his thumb and finger across his nose to wipe a wet streak of red that appeared to be blood from his face. “Oh my god! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get nosebleeds sometimes,” he sniffled and wiped the drips of blood from his nose with the back of his hand and onto his shorts. It was so dark out that you couldn't really make out any of the details of his face, but you swore you saw his left cheek starting to swell.

“Josh…” You reached your hand out towards him, but for the first time he recoiled from the action. 

“Greenie, it's nothing. I promise.” He shifted his body away from yours so he was looking away out the driver’s side to hide the injuries on his face. 

“Was it those guys?” You kept your voice low and gentle, yet still direct. The thought of them hurting him made your heart drop from your chest, but you didn’t buy the random nosebleed excuse either. 

“I said it was nothing, okay?!” He shouted with his fists clenched against his legs, making you jump back in your seat. This was the first time he raised his voice or showed any anger towards you. Stunned, you could only sit in silence and stare at your nervous hands. 

His shoulders slumped in shame and guilt as he let out a frustrated sigh, “Hey, I’m sorry-“

“Josh, it’s fine. Just take me home.” It was the only thing you could mutter out without tears starting to well in your eyes. 

TAGLIST:

@gretavanbitches @lo-pe-ak @shesawomaninadream @dannyandthekiszkas @josiee-gvf @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @welightthefire @pennylanefics @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @maverick-rose @milkgemini @gvfficrecs @jakeyboiiiiiii @doodle417 @viavieve @ashabeannn @richjaaasss @pr41sethemoon @gretavanbear @weightofdreamz @sammyslappers @prophetofthedune @weightofdreams-gvf @gretasmokerising @brokenbellz @gvfrry @gretavanfleas @baguettejuliette @dannyandthekiszkas @shesawomaninadream @gretavanbitches @alexxavicry @luverleaver @kissthekiszka @freckledwonder @dolceacquario @daniellefersblog @strangersimp @gardensgatedaisy @jakekiszmyass @ageofbrokenbells @seventieswhore @greta-van-chaos @lek-gvf

New Taglist Form

#gvf fic #gvf smut #josh kiszka #fanfic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #boys of summer #josh gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #jake kiskza #jake gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #soft josh #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka series #gvf series #gvf angst #gvf fanfiction #gvf x reader

[capseycartwright]

"this is a terrible idea" + buddie

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Maybe,” Buck conceded, shifting from foot to foot. It was cold - by LA standards, at least, the light breeze whipping up around them making goosebumps raise all across his skin. It didn’t help that Buck tended to run cold anyway, always shivering against the onslaught of the air-conditioning in the fire-station when people like Eddie thrived in the cool air. He was always going to be cold when he was standing in his underwear on the beach at three o’clock in the morning.

“The lack of an argument there makes me think you’re assuming I’m actually going to do this,” Eddie sighed, arms folded across his bare chest. He was wearing a pair of utterly ridiculous underwear, a gag gift from Chimney that Eddie had oddly embraced, the material navy and covered in tiny little rainbow flags. It always made Buck laugh, when he wore them. 

“I mean,” and maybe it was the tequila talking, but Buck was pretty confident in his plan. “We have to. It’d be pretty embarrassing if we stripped down to go skinny dipping, and then didn’t actually do it.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, glancing around the empty beach. “Who’s going to judge us?”

“Eddie,” Buck rolled his eyes, tugging the other man against his body, the familiar warmth of Eddie’s skin against his own never, ever getting old. “It’s our bachelor party!”

“I don’t need how that correlates to skinny dipping, baby,” Eddie hummed, swaying gently in Buck’s grip. They had decided to have a joint bachelor party, because they had all the same friends anyway, and Buck had gone on a rant about how archaic it was to celebrate a final night of freedom when you were marrying the goddamned love of your life more than willingly, and in an attempt to shut him up, Chimney and Hen had agreed a joint bachelor party was the best thing to do.

And it had been fun -

Buck had just wanted Eddie all to himself for a bit, so he’d taken his future husband’s hand and tugged him out of the bar and dragged him down the street to the beach, Eddie laughing as he stumbled along behind Buck, the giggles fueled by tequila, sure, but also by that joyous feeling of freedom he’d carried for years, now, the feeling new to Eddie at first, and then a part of his everyday. 

“I just think we should do something a little crazy before we go and get married, and become all settled down and boring,” Buck shrugged. Sue him, he liked making fun memories with Eddie.

“Baby,” Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. “We’re never going to be boring,” he promised, and Buck believed him, of course, because his life with Eddie had never been boring - it had always been fun, and exciting, and familiar, family at the core of the life they were building together, Eddie Diaz more than anything Buck could have dreamed he deserved to have. 

Buck grinned. “Then prove it,” he dared, jerking his head toward the gently lapping waves. “Come skinny dipping with me.”

Eddie groaned, pressing his face to the crook of Buck’s neck for a second. “I hate you,” he sighed, and before Buck had a chance to reply, Eddie was whipping off his ridiculous underwear and running toward the sea, the shriek he let out as he stepped into the cold water loud in the quiet of the night.Yeah, Buck thought to himself as he ran to catch up, Eddie already waist deep in the pacific ocean. They were definitely never going to be boring.

send me a ship and a sentence, I'll write the next five however many i want

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #breakdowndiaz #austin tag

[legendofzoodles]

Castaways...!

This song is so cute and has been stuck in my head for the past 24 hours. I also pictured Wind, Hyrule and Four singing it while adrift in the Great Sea separated from the chain. Wind turns it into a bonding moment. 

Read on AO3 here

~~~

Blue surrounded the trio from every angle. Their peripheral all blue, save for the brown of their hopefully sturdy raft and the bright green of Hyrule’s tunic strung up on the tiny mast of their boat, tattered fabric swaying in the strong breeze. They sat with their backs against it: Wind, Hyrule and Four, legs crossed with tired arms resting on their knees. Miles over yonder Wind could still see the isolated isle they’d managed to escape from, it’s sandy beaches growing further and further away until it was a yellow smudge soiling the horizon. 

Salty air filled their lungs, calm waves lapped stubbornly just shy of worn leather boots and the slow creaking of old wood sounded underneath. They were alone, drifting in a place unknown and an agonizing watery death awaited them just a few centimetres ahead. 

Wind should be afraid, should be feeling lingering anxiety mounting on itself every second that passed with any sign of help, should be diligently surveying the horizon for even the faintest smudge. Yet, fear and doubt eluded him.

To be fair he was looking carefully for rescuers, his stomach ached and his mouth was drier than the Gerudo desert- a couple days of little to no water and food would do that to anyone. Even a hero.  

That’s the thing, he wasn’t alone by himself, he was alone with friends. Every sigh, every cough, every time a slightly-too-warm damp shoulder nudged his, it was a reminder that they were in this together. 

Smiling defiantly at a blistering sun, cruelly reflected off of deceptively calm water, he started it sing with what little energy hadn’t been sapped away.

“Castaways, we are castaways Ahoy there, ahoy, we are castaways,”

his voice was hoarse and a lot to be desired, but that wasn’t the reason his companions tore their eyes from the monochrome landscape to glance quizzically his way,

“We're stuck where we are  With no house, no car  Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways

We were out at sea on a sailing ship  The rain began to rain and the wind began to whip  We felt the ship tip, it was going down  So we launched our lifeboat so we wouldn't drown.”

“Castaways,we are castaways-”

The tiny sailor spun around when they gleefully joined in, grinning brighter than the glaring orb above. Hyrule smiled back, cheeks slightly strained with effort and Four flashed a toothy grin beneath baggy eyes.  

“Ahoy there, ahoy, we are castaways. On an island at sea Just me, me, and me  Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways.”

Their tuneful SOS song rippled across azure waves and bounced between fluffy clouds floating too high, if they could see the fish swimming below them perhaps they’d catch them dancing. Wind guided them through the lyrics over and over, after each rendition a little vocal flare from Hyrule was added and Four steadily worked out a pretty complex beat, rhythmically tapping the mast. 

A sort of peaceful limbo washed over the group, all unsure of the passage of time, no longer rooted by the sky’s movements but the harmony following the next verse. Maybe they were going mad, and maybe Hyrule was just hallucinating the brown smudge with faint red and white smeared above it. Still, when he pointed hope to the others they all collapsed into laughter, cheering their hearts out, smiles wide and toothy. 

Suddenly bursting with energy, the trio rushed to the edge of the raft and make themselves noticed: Wind waving his arms furiously in the air, to the point of almost falling in, Hyrule digging his blistering hands trying to paddle them forward- ignoring the way they stung- and Four shimmying up the mast to manually wave their ‘flag’, clinging to it despite the splinters nipping his fingers. All happily shouting:

"Castaways! Ahoy! We are castaways!”

Later when they’re rescued...

“Sailor...what’s a car?” Four asked.

Wind shrugged. “Dunno man, those are just the lyrics.”

"I think Wild told me about those," said Hyrule, toweling his hair.

~~~

Thanks for reading! This is my first songfic! Also a little TotK in there-so excited for it!  

Masterlist  

Headcanons: Flora is Feral, Parkour team  

Other stories:

Recovered Regrets (LU)

Smoke Signal (LU Wild x reader)

LU character design ranking: 9th place  

Character analysis: Hero of the Wild part 1  

#first songfic #don't question the lyrics four #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu fics #lu fic idea #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fanfiction #lu fanfiction #lu fanfic #lu four #lu wind #lu hyrule #linked universe four #linked universe wind #linked universe hyrule #jesus i coded for this fic holy moly #bossa nova trio

[blackacre13]

ohh how would you feel about doing a Pretty Woman AU?

“You should bring a date.”

“Like hell, I should,” Lou huffed, trying and failing to flag down a cab as buses and shuttles screamed by the airport departure area. “And that’s the kind of thing you should tell me before I fly out to LA for a meeting, Tam.”

“I would’ve made a hot date,” Tammy laughed as Lou rolled her eyes, her cell pinned between her shoulder and her ear as she growled at the airport traffic.

“Please,” Lou smirked. “Not that you wouldn’t. I won’t lie. I’ve thought about it.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“You started it,” Lou pointed out, cursing as her luggage wheel got stuck on the curb. “Fuck LA. I miss New York. God. But what I’m saying—they’re already gonna be right pissed as shit when a woman hands them the deal of a lifetime. The last thing they want to know is that I can treat a woman better than they can.”

“Lou.”

“Don’t lecture me.”

“No, it’s just—I fucked up. I booked you a rental car instead of the hotel shuttle. There’s a car waiting for you.”

“You ordered me a car?” Lou gaped, glaring at the airport she knew she’d now have to re-enter, hating that she’d have to deal with some rent-a-car place with a packed line full of screaming kids. “I don’t even drive in New York. You think I can find my way around California on a whim?”

“It’s like riding your bike, right?” Tammy spoke. Lou could practically see her wincing. “Besides, women just melt at your presence. Just go find some doe eyed girl looking for a night on the town. She’ll point you in the right direction.”

She would have fired Tammy right then and there. But Tammy was her friend. And the only assistant whose neck she hadn’t ever anted to wring. Until now maybe.

She was partially forgiven when the kiosk lady handed Lou a set of keys to a flashy sports car. Maybe driving in LA wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She attempted to ask where she could find her hotel, but the woman was already waving the family behind her forward, and a cooler bag to the head had Lou sprinting out of the airport again at break force. 

Her stomach was growling. Her internal clock was three hours off, still on New York time. And she had a presentation to prepare for. She knew she would nail it, but practice and preparation was key. She wanted to know her pitch as well as she knew her own name, and she wasn’t quite there yet. However, she needed a stiff drink and crisp, cool hotel sheets to settle into in order to do that. And she still couldn’t find the bloody hotel.

Blind with road rage from traffic and ready to pull over and sleep in the car, Lou slowed to a roll when she saw a small cluster of woman ahead on a street corner, one of them catching her eye and winking.

It wouldn’t be the night they had in mind, but Lou didn’t mind forking over a hefty tip for some fast directions.

She frowned at the skimpy skirt and midriff top. Sure, California was hot, but the water made it chilly, especially with this breeze whipping through. She had to be freezing out here.

She stopped the car, rolling down the window as the woman leaned over, sticking her head through the window as a pile of flowing brunette hair fell partially inside the car, the smell of a rich, but sweet perfume enveloping Lou as it crawled across the passenger seat.

“Oh,” the brunette grinned, snapping some gum. “Don’t see many woman driving a car like this or stopping here.”

“I’m not most women,” Lou smirked. “You know this area?”

“I own these streets.”

“What’s your name?”

“You first.”

“Miller.”

“That’s a funny name.”

“It’s my last name,” Lou grinned, somehow already smitten with this woman. There was something about her. “And I’m sure you’re about to feed me some fake name. You can skip that. I’m Lou. Lou Miller.”

“And what do you do, Lou Miller?” The brunette smiled back, leaning further inside the car, her arms crossing on the ledge. “What brings you to LA? Business or pleasure?”

“While it’s a pleasure to meet you, still no name,” Lou sighed. “I’m strictly here for business. Which brings me to my job offer.”

“Oh?”

“How much for you to get in my car and give me directions to my hotel?”

“And then what do you want once we get there.”

“To raid my mini fridge,” Lou admitted. “Alone,” she added.

“Fifty bucks,” the brunette replied. “But I’ll let you make adjustments to that job offer once we get there and you’ve sat next to these legs for twenty minutes.”

“I’ll give you two hundred,” the blonde decided, undoing the lock. “And here,” she said, leaning into the backseat to throw a blazer at the brunette. “I’m sure you’re freezing your ass off and I’m driving with the top down.”

“It’s a deal,” she laughed, slipping into the car, draping the blazer over her shoulders, more for show than anything. She turned to the blonde. “And it’s Debbie. You’re gonna want to make a right at the light three blocks up.”

#queue #blackacre13 #pretty woman #pretty woman au #lou miller #Debbie ocean #Lou Miller x Debbie ocean #Debbie Ocean x lou miller #lou x debbie #Debbie x lou #lou and debbie #Debbie and lou #loubbie #lou and deb #deb and lou #lou x deb #deb x lou #heist girlfriends #heist wives #ocean's eight #oceans eight #ocean's 8 #oceans 8 #ocean's eight fanfic #ocean's eight fanfiction #ocean's 8 fanfic #ocean's 8 fanfiction #o8 fanfic #o8 fanfiction #tammy

[swiftscion]

hoist the flag! 

She had a feeling something would be waiting for her, all the way up, up, up the never-ending tower. 

The gentle breeze in her hair felt too... Calm. Too serene. Like it lacked the dangerous edge of battle--the whipping gale that had always blown her through the starry sky she calls life. When she sees Anankos fall and her foes manifest in the open airspace she smirks. Maybe now he’ll understand why they’ve gotta fight: he’d be left plummeting to his death if they didn’t. 

“Sparagmos!”

That word spurs her to action, giving rise to the insatiable urge to leap from the tower and soar with everything she’s got. It is as she always dreamed! She floats without difficulty, glides with stellar grace. She is finally a literal comet in orbit, lapping the general once, twice, thrice, as she finds an opening for an attack. Never have Larcei’s feet left the ground, but their trained agility make her a natural at maneuvering this warzone. Though they stop when the Agarthan raises her hand, and the tears begin to grow wide with murderous intent...! 

Agarthan General uses Quake! Roll 1d20+4 = 22, hit! -2 HP; Larcei 7/10 HP

Cracks in reality open and shoot toward Larcei like lightning, piercing through her arm and ripping apart some of the flesh as it dances between entering and exiting the dream. It hurts more than she can even fathom, but the pain is fleeting, for the attack reveals itself not to be aimed at her, but the tower. 

Forces collide, and the gargantuan stone structure shakes upon its foundations. Stairs snap under the shearing force, bricks come loose and fall an unlimited distance before hitting the ground. It trembles and quakes, rips and folds, until its stony vanguard gives in and it begins to topple. It is a symphony of destruction, and the orchestra still stands on its crumbling crown. 

Larcei watches in horror as their arena succumbs to being bulldozed, and she can think of only one thing to save them, “Jump now! If you wanna live!!”

And it falls. Her eyes squint shut during the closing act, praying to Shining Od or whatever god would hear her in this dream, that they would be alright. Edward and Anankos need to see her get revenge. Kent needs to be there to praise her for her efforts. Edain has promised to take care of her and Laslow... She hopes he got his leg caught. 

But there’s no time for words now, only action. Larcei whizzes around the general for the fourth and last time, her rage disallowing her from focusing on the other body. “You!” she spits, “You’re gonna regret that!” And in she goes, crossing her elbows over her face so she can dive at the woman like a falcon.

Larcei uses Steal! Roll 1d20+2 = 11, +1 Javelin of Light

When they collide, no weapon is drawn. Rather, Larcei sticks her hands into the ugly mug of her assailant, clawing at her nose and mouth, trying to stick her hands into her eyeballs. But as any militant would, the woman resists. She drops her guard to try to push Larcei off, and its during this struggle that she catches a glimpse of the weapon at her belt.

So she swipes it. In one fluid motion her right elbow comes crashing into the enemy’s jaw, and her left hand sticks to the piece of artillery hanging from her hip. How either of them manage to lift it is beyond explanation, but the simple fact remains that Larcei makes off with it, and it remains in her hands now--safe from those who would use it for harm. 

“Hope you’re watching, Ed. I managed to grab one this time.” 

RALLY: @liegebound @anankelotus @maligknightsthorns @ulirblood @sacaeblade @virtuoustyrfing

#IC #EVENT THREAD (HOIST THE FLAG!) #LIEGEBOUND #ANANKELOTUS #MALIGKNIGHTSTHORNS #ULIRBLOOD #SACAEBLADE #VIRTUOUSTYRFING #KEbattlefield2023

[scout-company]

Dead or Alive—Chapter 8

Devon paces along the crest of the hill marking the north wall of town. It’s been several hours since that Novakid shot off. A few hours since Riku discovered one of the antiques—Devon’s antique—was missing. How did he not notice that before? How did one of those stupid bandits get inside without anyone noticing? How—

Devon shakes her head sharply. Focus. She tugs her broad-brimmed sun hat lower and scans across the desert. Those bandits would hav head to warp in from somewhere, and Devon knows for a fact that Haven Valley isn’t too far from one of the easier warp points. 

If anyone else warps near town, she’s going to be the first to know.

The town behind her is unusually quiet for this late in the day. Normally the others are socializing in the lengthening shade as the sun starts its descent. But right now, the only socialization Devon can hear are hushed mutterings carried along the dry breeze. After a day like this, she can’t be surprised. 

Devon huffs as she continues pacing. The quiet before an unseen storm sets her nerves on edge. Only the whispers of the palm tree leaves and the crunch of her boots’ heels in the sand graze her thoughts. If Essa ever let her borrow her rifle, Devon would probably be shooting the critters scrambling for shade off in the distance. Just for something to do, something to root her thoughts out of her head.

But Essa and her rifle had retreated back to her hut and her farm animals shortly after the incident this morning, hissing something about waiting for her mate. 

Some “hunter.”

Devon reaches the end of the hill she’s been pacing lines across for the last hour, pivots, and starts to retrace her steps for the hundredth time.

But then a flash of light stops her.

A green warp beam shoots down straight into town, next to the flag Bronzemarch had set up.

Immediately after, a yellow light steaks from the sky, landing several hills off into the distance. 

A Floran Devon doesn’t quite recognize yet—one of the newer move-ins—materializes out of the green beam and immediately scrambles towards the pavilion. Whoever materializes out of the yellow beam is concealed by distance and by hills.

But barely a minute after those two beams, a trio of beams shoot down to the flag. Orange, yellow, and magenta. And like that Floran, the trio that materializes out of the beams takes off running as soon as the light flickers away. The Novakid Scout scrambles ahead of the others. 

Scout’s always in a hurry. Normally that wouldn’t interest Devon. But the events of this morning—and the way Scout is frantically whistling Bronzemarch’s name—draw her to investigate. 

Bronzemarch has been at the pavilion for the last half an hour or so, taking shelter in the shade while discussing something with one of the other move-ins, a fellow Human named Nell. Nell startles when the Floran scrambles up the steps to the pavilion, then removes herself from the conversation. Devon isn’t close enough to hear the Floran’s hissing until she reaches one of the pavilion’s support pillars, at which point Scout all but leaps up the steps herself. 

“Alarmed. Scout! What’s wrong?” Bronzemarch demands. 

The Floran startles, the cone-like purple flower atop their head fluffing as if in a static field as they whip around. Devon presses herself behind the rough wooden pillar, taking off her hat and peeking carefully around the support. Part of her prays splinters don’t get stuck in her vest.

“We found them bandits!” Scout meanwhile whistles, sounding for all the world like Riku’s shrillest teapot. Semyon and Alice nod as they finally catch up with her. “S.A.I.L. tracked one of ‘em down, and—”

“Floran wasss followed!” the Floran hisses, voice trembling with their leaves. 

Scout’s messy bob of plasma flickers like a shaken candle as she pops, “What?”

Bronzemarch puts a supportive hand on the Floran’s shoulder as he explains, “Informative. Muthon thinks he was followed here.”

Muthon the Floran nods hastily. “Floran saw small ship chasssing Floran. Yellow light followed Floran.”

“Sounds ‘bout right,” Scout buzzes, her twang getting thicker the faster she speaks, “We found them bandits squarin’ off against one o’ their own or somethin’, and then he zipped outta there.”

“Grim. And then he escaped back to our planet?” Bronzemarch concludes, crossing his arms.

Scout nods. “Yeah. S.A.I.L. tracked him down.”

Bronzemarch makes a tinny note of a pensive hum as he looks around—Devon ducks back behind the pillar before he can spot her—then says, “Serious. We need to protect the town.”

Semyon steps forward around Scout and suggests, “Should someone go get Essa?”

Muthon shakes his head hard enough his leaves rustle. “Essa will not fight. Floran issss terrified of her weapon.”

“But she used it earlier on one of them bandits this morning,” Scout points out with a confused pop. 

“That…explainss why Floran was so ssad earlier.” Muthon ruffles a hand through the petals of his flower, then starts to back up, looking apologetically at Bronzemarch. “Excuse Floran. Floran musst go comfort Floran’s mate.”

“Understanding. Go do that,” Bronzemarch bids. Once Muthon turns around and scrambles off towards Essa’s farmstead, Bronzemarch looks back over the three in front of him. “Pensive. This still leaves the dilemma of how to protect the town. Practical. Scout. If you three—”

“What if we find that feller first?” Scout suggests. “If we track him down before he can cause a ruckus, the town won’t be in any trouble.”

Alice leans forward a bit to frown up at Scout. “Wait, how would we do that? S.A.I.L. couldn’t track him planet-side.”

“He’s gotta be ‘round here somewhere.”

The yellow warp beam. Devon steals a glance over the hills in the direction she saw the beam earlier. 

Bronzemarch frowns audibly while he glances around again himself. “Worried. Find him quickly. One of those bandits somehow made off with the antique Riku was holding for Devon, so if there’s any chance this bandit has it—”

“Wait what!?” Devon bursts despite herself. She whips around the pillar.

The four in the pavilion startle and turn to her. Three sets of eyes stare wide at her; the Novakid’s glow flares and her plasma churns. Scout starts to whistle, “When did ya—?!”

But Devon ignores her for the moment. She storms up the steps to the pavilion herself, straight to Bronzemarch. She demands, “You’re saying the bandit that stole my antique turned tail and ran straight back here?”

“Hesitant. There is a possibility, but we cannot say for sure. But if he knows where—”

Devon doesn’t give him a chance to finish his statement. She pivots on one heel, tugs her hat back on, and starts off the pavilion. That stupid bandit warped in behind Muthon, under the cover of the hills outside town. 

“Alarmed. Devon! Where do you think you’re going!?”

She ignores the several voices calling her name as she rushes off. They try to call her back; she had no weapon, they don’t know where the bandit is. They don’t. She does.

She scrambles over the hill walling Haven Valley off from the outside desert. Northward. That beam shot down past the hills that way. 

Multiple sets of footsteps scramble through the sand somewhere behind her, but she’s too laser-focused to care.

That antique has been with her for years. Been with her family for longer.

If that bandit—that idiot—thinks he can get away with stealing it out from under the town’s collective noses, then come back to this planet for shelter, he’s got another thing coming.

~~~~~

<< Previous || Next >>

#starbound fanfic #starbound #starbound novakid #fanfic #I Was The Sun #Dead or Alive #Devon’s turn for POV

[books-of-the-great-leviathan]

Chapter 30- Isabella

***

Gulls squabbled overhead, wheeling against the sun.

Isabella squinted up at them as long as she could bear. Her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat. The night-drop she'd taken to dull the pain was wearing off, and her jaw was beginning to hurt again.

She rubbed it, wincing.

"Are you well, Majesty?" asked one of her Falcii. "Shall I send for more night-drop tea?"

"No." Isabella dropped her hand, twisting the reins in her grip. "I'm fine. Save your concern for those who need it."

She urged her elk forward, its hooves crunching on rubble. The sun shone blinding off the ruins around her, their walls twisted and domes shattered, buildings pulverized, entire avenues swept aside by the fury of the Leviathan's onslaught.

And furious it had proved. This district of the docks was just- gone. Catsbones pieces tipped off a game board. Canal after canal, street after street. Not every whitebrick building had been leveled- here and there, walls lingered, incongruously perfect, standing alone. Heat shimmered over the rubble-scattered streets, thick with the detritus of the harbor depths, broken wood and dead fish, seaweed twisted like skeins of wet crimson silk. Rivulets of seawater twined over cobblestones, still glimmering with the monster's summer-blue glow. Already the air was muggy, charged and swollen, dense enough to chew. With the heat came the stench of oceanic decay, saline and organic, roasting under the merciless noon sun.

Isabella moved through the labyrinth of streets, made even more mazelike by the destruction. The district- one of the harbor quarters- had not been spared, its floodgate sundered, the monster wave sweeping through its streets. Dead fish decomposed by the millions, glittering with crystal, death upon death. Folk moved amongst the ruins like sleepwalkers, picking through the rubble; everywhere, everywhere, remnants lingered. A dead elk, its head twisted, one horn broken, its body crushed beneath great riven blocks of pale stone. Cloud gulls plucked at its eyes. Buildings slumped into piles of whitebrick and shattered timbers, guts exposed, furniture and broken pottery scattered in the remains. Veils of sand rippled in the breeze, whipped like lost spirits down streets and spiraling arcane patterns over broken cobblestones.

They turned a corner. A group of children huddled in the shadow of a ship, heaved from the harbor into the middle of a square by the power of the monster's wave: a mad sight, like something from one of Isabella's dreams. The broad-beamed cog lay on its side, huge as a beached sea-ork, its boards warped and sunbleached dry, colonies of barnacles exposed beneath the waterline. Its masts were shattered, one sticking up into the air, sails hanging ragged, twisting in the wind. The Lapidaean flag stirred from its highest point, dried salt-stiff, a sad scrap of silver and blue.

The children glanced up as Isabella and her Falcii rode by, squinted at them, then hunched back to their game of catsbones, the clatter of game pieces loud as breaking bones in the hush. They were playing for chunks of crystal, Isabella saw, scavenged perhaps from the rain of dead fish, the pieces still crusted with blue blood.

A great bronze bell lay half-embedded in a ruined street. Isabella looked up- it had fallen from one of the alarm towers. The tower's spire was gone, as if torn away. She smelled cookfires on the wind, heard shouts of "Heave!" from a nearby street, and the cracking grind of shifting stone as workers began the first excavations- looking for bodies, maybe. Wails, too, and screams, from the wounded carried on stretchers, limbs twisted and shattered like the buildings that had come down on them.

Flies droned in the shadows. A little girl stumbled by, clutching a grimy bundle of rags, her eyes unfocused and glassy. Howls of pain echoed down streets, through empty windows, carried to Isabella from all directions. Gutted tabernas and garden courtyards were flooded with the wounded and the dying, medics and physicians, Academy trainees and back-alley surgeons gathered by the dozens to bind wounds, pick shrapnel and broken glass from skin, to amputate limbs, to administer night-drop to those in the greatest pain. City guard marched past, grim-faced and gaunt, and countless trails of smoke rose from the jagged, broken skyline.

"Triune," muttered one of her younger Falcii, eyes narrowed behind his visor as he reached for the sailor's charm hung from his elk's harness, brushing it with his fingertips for luck.

Isabella stared, the sounds not quite reaching her, her breathing overloud in her head. Someone snatched at her elk's harness: a young man, his hair matted with blood, a sling binding his mangled arm to his chest.

The world warped. For an instant his face was Ren's, pale and blood-spattered and dying. Isabella tensed, and Ren was gone, but the sear of terror didn't leave her, burning through her nerves and paralyzing her in the saddle.

"Isabella Valere," the young man slurred- sun-drunk or whiskey-drunk, Isabella couldn't tell. He stumbled, hanging from her stirrup; her elk snorted, dancing aside, shaking its steel-tipped horns in warning. "Come to...come to save us all...long live the queen! Long live the bloody queen..."

One of her Falcii drew steel, and he stumbled off, vanishing once more into the crowds. Isabella's hand had flown to her sword, the weapon her father had presented her at the end of her soldiers' training. She could not feel the steel against her gloved crystal palm, just its pressure, biting in.

Folk had lived. They had lived- she had to remember that.

They had died, too. Hundreds. Thousands. She did not yet know the number. Children. Mothers, workers. Beggars drowned where they lay.

Her people, drowned in the streets as she stood above.

"I want more supplies brought to these surgeries," Isabella heard herself say. Her voice was dry. She tried to lift it, strengthen it. She'd been giving orders all night, all morning, directing the city guard, the harbor councils, the Council of Herring and the Council of Canals, answering questions as best she understood how. Her voice couldn't fail her now. "More medicine, clean bandages, sanitized water. Did the city guard take casualties here?"

"The main garrison was buried in the worst of the flooding," the Falcii said. "Tolls were...heavy. Captains dead or unaccounted for. Bava, Tocci, Camirri- all lost. The district has another smaller garrison, though. That survived."

"Good. Make certain these streets have regular patrols, and assign more to the surgeries. Make certain fights are quelled. Make certain no dark rumor finds foothold. Make...make certain..."

Her next words stuttered and died in her throat. She took a deep breath of the air. Blood, and rotting fish, and dust. Her head spun; her jaw ached.

"Your Majesty?" the Falcii asked. "Is there...is there anything else?"

"Those are my orders," Isabella muttered. "Go. See they're carried out."

The Falcii bowed, then wheeled round her elk and spurred it away.

Isabella rode on, past another agora. The shadow of its statue fell dark across the dead. They lay in rows upon rows, battered and bruised. Bloody seawater pooled beneath small, rumpled corpses, pallid hands curled, palms to the sky. Gulls whirled above, groaks and eyethieves, warded off by the crack of guards' gunfire and the twining skeins of incense smoke. Priestesses had come to perform their last rites, blue-painted feet tracing circles round the dead as they made their walks and swung their censers.

Their songs twined, too, liturgical Lapidaean ornate and mournful. No chapels for these dead, no cool wind-haunted stone. Only the sun, only decay and god-broken cities, only the cloud gulls coursing overhead, small ghosts flung to the breeze.

Isabella slowed her elk, its harness jangling, and watched, her eyes hot, her body numb. She tasted salt- the incense, the wind off the harbor, her own tears on her lips, bitter and awful.

There would have been more, she told herself. If Luca hadn't demanded you raise the gates, if you had fired on the monster, there would have been more.

She was a fool to cling to such childish comforts. Too much destroyed, too many dead. Ten years of death, and more before that, too. Lapide, Estara- it was all cycles of death, not life, and the peacetime in between seemed little more than a hungry, desperate gasp before the inevitable happened, before the monster wave fell across them again, smashing their peace to rubble and corpses.

She remembered her last clear sight of Luca, the burning hope in his eyes as he clutched Sirin to him like his last hope, and cold knifed her in the guts.

Triune, Luca, what have I done?

If she had believed him-

If she had let him go-

Pleas and prayers. All could hang themselves. All were useless now that the damage had been done. Maybe the Triune had not listened to her. Maybe the Leviathan was too strong for them. Either way, Isabella had never felt further from her gods.

She lifted her eyes from the dead, toward the expanse of harbor visible between the broken cupolas of two buildings, Bellana's Arm glittering beyond. A smoke haze lingered at the horizon's edge, the sky still bruised and glowering, but the ocean was clear. The monster had swum off when Luca had fled Valeris, his little creature in tow, the witchborn and their sister with him. They were gone again, the storm gone with them.

There had been no more sign of Enzo. Isabella's stomach twisted, and she bit back a snarl. Maybe it was a sob. She couldn't be sure.

Did I fail you, too?

She didn't know who she meant- her mother. Ren. Luca, Alois, Cereza. Enzo.

Herself.

Cold rippled through her crystal arm, and she clenched her fist, holding it back, holding it deep inside with all her strength.

You have to be ready for it.

You have to be ready for anything.

She knew what she had to do. She knew what she wanted. Once, those two had been the same. Now she couldn't be sure of that, either.

***

Isabella left the destruction behind, and took the old path up to the clifftop where generations of Valere dead had been burned, where stone and sea met sky.

Her elk wound up the cobblestone pathway, a broad road sunken and warped by centuries of funerary processions, by mourners' feet and pilgrims' steps. It switchbacked up the cliffs that jutted out over Valeris's harbor, overlooking the bay and Bellana's Arm beyond.

The sea heaved and swelled, full of whitecaps, waves veined with the remnants of the monster's blue glow. It rippled through the deeps, tracing a second pathway: the monster's wake as it had left Valeris behind. Isabella took a deep breath of the clean wind, free of the stench and misery of the city below.

A few lengths up she glimpsed the clifftop, thick with its pelt of grass and scrub, crusts of ancient walls clinging to the dry, rocky soil. She ordered her Falcii wait for her below and walked the last stretch alone. Her muscles ached, but it was a clean ache, the heat of the city below stolen by the wind. It ruffled her hair, and she closed her eyes, tipping her head back, letting the sun burn red pathways of her veins.

She passed through the twin whitebrick markers flanking the end of the path, stripping off her coat and flinging it over one of the markers, rolling her sleeves to her elbows. Her crystal arm was exposed, but here it little mattered. No one would see, save the gulls, save the dead.

The clifftop spread before her: a shimmering expanse of late-summer torch-grass, rippling green-gold in the sunlight. Ancient walls, the remnants of cliff structures, snaked through the grass, nearly hidden by its height and density. The distant hish and boom of waves drifted to her from the cliff base, and here the gulls were distant, too, white flecks casting shadow twins across the sea. Ahead, near the cliff's edge, stood the pyre. It was a tapering dais of whitebrick, its surface scorched black by generations of flames.

Isabella let out her breath. The grass whispered as she stepped into it. It came to her knees, glimmering green-gold green-gold as the wind coursed through it. Insects droned, flicker-dart clouds escaping her as she moved through the grass, parting it on her approach toward the pyre. She stopped at its side, where weeks ago Enzo must have stood, and watched, and felt the sear of fire on his face as the priestesses first anointed her mother's body, then set it ablaze. Had there been tears then, she wondered, or had he stood like she stood, numb and windblown, watching as his mother's killer was consumed, gone to the gods, gone forever?

Not truly forever. Here too must have been where Enzo had roped her mother's ghost. Where was it now? Did he still hold it on its leash, or had he released her and cast her back into the wide starry universe?

"I hope you're resting," Isabella said. She set her fingertips to the cool stone of the pyre, bricks cracked and worn by centuries of sea wind and rain. "I hope you found your way to the Triune after all."

The words came with a shudder. Pleading, prayers, like before. Was that really what she hoped for her mother?

No, she found, and this time the shudder coursed through her, a crack of heat, like the memory of flames. No. Sofia Valere had done this, she had begun this. She had made Valeris into a beached corpse of itself, wounds and weeping and mangled bodies, godsblood and death and curses. More than Cereza's, it was hate, it was this knife of rage in her heart and in Enzo's, and it would never come out. It wouldn't end- not this killing, this dying, these innocents drowned in the streets.

She remembered Ren's eyes on her, the love there, the desperation, the way Lapin had tried and failed to hold his blood in.

Not enough.

Never enough.

This time the heat was real, the rage a roar of blood cycling through her, a pulse in her whaleglass arm, harder and stronger than a heartbeat. Silver light flared, and the gulls scattered, crying out as they wheeled away into the sky.

"Damn you," Isabella said, the words hissing between her teeth. "Damn your cowardice, damn your lies-"

She drew her sword in a slash of steel and struck out. A scream tore its way from her as the blade cracked against the pyre stone; it glanced off with a bell-warp clang, the screech of metal, a spurt of sunlight where the sword's edge caught.

Isabella struck out again, again; she couldn't stop screaming, couldn't stop hacking, the spellforged steel gashing wounds in the stone. Sparks burst, and her shoulder muscles burned, but her arm was numb, crystal taking the brunt of the impacts.

"Damn you!" Isabella cried. "Hells take Lapide, Hells take honor, Hells take the crown, Hells take you-"

She struck again, harder and harder, on each word, and on the last she grabbed the hilt in both hands and brought it down, a savage blow, all her weight and strength behind it. The blade jarred off a stone, and with a sound like a bone breaking, snapped.

The hilt came off in her hands. The rest of the sword spun past her, flashing, lost amidst the torch-grass.

Isabella panted, reeling, her eyes streaming tears. She clutched at the hilt, one hand gloved, one bare. She stared at the broken edge, the jagged place where the blade had snapped, the way the etchings on the blade ended, cut off at the break.

"No," she said. Her voice had lost all its strength and the word came as a dry whisper, dull and small. She stepped back. "Shit."

Her father had given her that sword. She stared at it for a few seconds, breathing hard, then dropped her hands, and the hilt. It fell into the grass. She backed up again, then folded to the ground. She sat there, watching the grass ripple, watching the now-distant gulls, feeling the twin pulses of her slowing heartbeat and the power in her arm, awake now, aglimmer.

"Maybe you were right, Enzo," she said.

She closed her eyes. The power rose up inside her, a rush like the waves. It enclosed her; she heard the whispers of the dead, the whisper of his voice, growing louder as she let their tether strengthen. It was easier this time, like breathing, except instead of air she took a rush of silver into her lungs.

When she opened her eyes, he was there.

"Maybe?" he asked.

He sat on the remains of a nearby wall, his head lowered, his palms braced against the stones. He looked rumpled, ragged; he wore shirtsleeves rolled to his upper arms, showing scrapes and bruises, and the dark blot of a wound spread beneath the linen, gashed over his ribs. Isabella lifted her eyes to his face. Cuts spackled one cheekbone, his lip gashed, his black hair tousled and untidy. Even his sharp hazel eyes were dim.

His outline glimmered, a melting unreality. He was not there; neither was she for him. They both persisted for one another in this between state, half real, half a dream.

"Ending," Isabella said. "Beginning again. It's all broken, Enzo. It's all wrong. Me, more so than any of it."

"I'm glad you're alive, Bell."

She let out a flat laugh. "Are you? I don't know if I am. I feel like half a ghost myself."

"Believe me, if you were a ghost, I would know."

Isabella picked a blade of grass and twisted it in her fingers. "I thought I was right," she said. "I thought I knew what was best for Lapide. I believed so hard in what I thought was true, and real, and good. I even believed when it was bad. More, then."

"So did I," Enzo said.

Isabella looked up at him. His eyes were no longer dim, but distant, fixed on some faraway point.

"I thought I was a destroyer," he said. "A storm of reckoning, come to sweep away the broken pieces and start the board anew. I thought like a fool I'd seen the true face of the world, and I alone knew it. But after the monster- Triune, it was a god, it was-"

His voice caught in his throat, ragged as a sob. He pressed his hands to his face, his shoulders curled, his knuckles white through his skin. The old urge to reach for him rose up in Isabella, but she didn't. She stayed where she was.

At last, Enzo lifted his head again. His eyes were bright, fervent, but no tears streaked his face. "I don't know anymore," he said. "I don't know what I would be if I let it all go."

"You don't have to," Isabella told him. She gestured to herself. "Look at me. Look at Valeris. You won."

"You think either of us won, Bell?"

Isabella watched him, then took a short breath.

"Cereza lived," she said.

His eyes widened. He sat up, his face alight. "What? How?"

"She came back. She and Luca found a way to break the curse. They found the Leviathan, Enzo. It never died. It never left us."

He blinked, and stood, walking to the cliffside. His outline became mistier the further he moved from her, and Isabella felt a pull deep in her guts, a tension halfway to pain.

"And the monster?" Enzo said. "It was the Leviathan, wasn't it?"

Isabella paused, then nodded.

"Like the old tales." His voice sank to a murmur. "From it came all magic. All power. This power...you, and I, and Alezia Valere..."

"All the world, too, spewed from its spout-hole, if Luca is to be believed."

"It came back to destroy us?"

"Or..." Isabella began. She didn't know how to answer him. She thought of what Luca had said- the broken god, the cycle ended. Whalesong, deep in her dreams.

"Or to be reborn," she said. "Or to devour itself. End us all in the black of its maw. I'm no prophet, Acier, to glean the ways of gods or monsters. You know that as well as I do."

"A broken god," Enzo echoed.

"A slaughtered god. Daval's Witchhunters did their duty well, so it seems." Isabella's voice sharpened. "Thanks to you."

"To make," Enzo murmured. "To unmake."

"To build the world anew," Isabella finished. "I know the bloody saying."

He looked back at her. "What do you intend to do about it?"

"What makes you think I intend to do anything?"

"I know you, Bell. You aren't the sort to sit and stew for long. The monster may have swum off, but it's not gone."

Isabella couldn't stop her smile. It ached a little- a cracking scab, a fresh bruise. She wanted it back, then, almost more than she could bear. She wanted cedars, and sunset. Luca's smile, and Cereza's sweet voice, and her father picking her up and spinning her round. The scratch of his beard, the smell of sword oil and leather. Her mother's surety, her faith in Lapide. She wanted Enzo the way they had once been, the two of them together against the evils of the world. How sure she was that she was right, that she would be ready for whatever came.

She wanted all of this to be different.

But it wasn't. It never had been. She stood and joined him at the cliff's edge.

"You've killed so many people I loved," she said. "My Falcii. My family. I watched Renard Irio die because of you. I almost lost my sister because of you. To my last, I swear I will see you face those crimes and pay for them."

"I know."

"I wish I could forgive you."

"I know."

"They took it from us," Isabella said. "Everything we might have been."

She brushed her crystalline fingertips along his edge, where silver melted into sky. She felt nothing but a flutter of cold. "We could have changed it all, Enzo, you and me."

"I know," he said again.

Then, "You're going after it, aren't you. I feel it."

Isabella nodded. Luca had taken the little creature, Puppy, the thing the monster had destroyed Valeris to kill, the thing it had swum after. Its glowlight was fading, but visible across the waves. A pathway.

She could follow it. She could end this, and Luca's mad dreams, at the source. To find him, all she had to do was follow the monster.

"I have to make this right," she said, echoing her brother's words. She smiled grimly. "Luca had such faith in it. Always did. Even now."

She looked up, but Enzo was gone. The power left her as she stood, staring at the cliffside where he'd been.

He was out there. She didn't have to reach out with their tether to know that.

Isabella turned her eyes to the sea, looking toward the hazy horizon, and knew without doubt that he was looking back.

#tales of the great leviathan #grave of the great leviathan #fantasy fiction #original fiction #serial novel #chapter 30

[duskholland]

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

summary ↠ tom can’t stop thinking about harrison’s girl, and it’s starting to become a problem. — in love with your best friend’s girl au. warnings ↠ this is fifty shades of morally-ambiguous grey, but I wouldn’t say it’s /too/ out there..?¿ there’s no actual infidelity but because of the au, there are themes of cheating, so avoid this if it’s a touchy subject for you. cw: a lot of alcohol, a ton of jealousy/possessiveness, heavy swearing, ongoing frat/party/bet culture, tom being a bad friend, harrison being a bad boyfriend, y/n being a bad girlfriend, and nsfw content. this contains smut! 18+ minors dni. word count↠ 17.6k. a/n ↠ please don’t do this irl, this is just fantasy !!!! y/n, tom and harrison are all flawed people, so please don’t go into this expecting them to all be perfect !!!! this was almost twenty thousand times more debased and fucked up, but I reeled it in last minute :’) that being said, this was still so much fun to write lmao. I listened to your girlfriend by blossoms + jessie’s girl pretty much on repeat as I wrote this! title is from 1d’s classic banger, which apparently influenced this more than I’d thought. thanks to all the anons who sent in ideas for this the other week!! a lot of them made it into this fic, so if you sent in a concept—thank you so much <3 I messed around with the pov so it flips halfway through! it should be obvious but I’m flagging it so you don’t think I went mad. hasn’t happened yet my lovelies but frat!tom does test me ! :’)) enjoy !!! <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extended warnings ↠ masturbating (male), oral + fingering (fem receiving), protected mxf sex. possessiveness in the dirty talk. again, there is no infidelity but there is a lot of bad behaviour + boundary pushing <3

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

Tom has seen a lot of pretty girls in his life, but tonight, he thinks that he’s seen an angel.

The frat is loud. The crowd is so thick he can barely breeze, and the fog machine has left a deep grey smog smothering the living room. Flashing strobe lights and the deep drums of bass cut through the air, but despite the way Tom’s head hurts, everything irritating fades as he looks across the room and sees a girl. You. You’re standing in the open doorway, leaning against one of the beams, a solo cup in one hand with the other resting on your waist.

He instantly knows that he wants you.

You’re in a red dress, with the flattering material clinging to your waist and shoulders. It draws Tom’s attention, but that’s quick to shift to your face as he watches you laugh at a joke made by one of your friends. He recognises a few of the people that you’re with from one of his lectures, but he’s almost certain he’s never seen you before. He’d definitely remember.

“Bro? What’s up?” Harrison is behind him, Tom’s best mate. They’ve been friends since high school, and when Tom had decided to up sticks and move across the ocean to a college in America, Harrison had followed. He’s good like that. “You’re just staring at the wall. Look like a proper tosser.”

Tom scowls as he drags his eyes away from you, directing all of his most scathing anger at Harrison. The blond is smirking. Perched on top of his head is a black SnapBack, printed with the frat’s logo. It matches the one that Tom’s wearing, just Tom has it pulled on backwards. He’s the only member of the frat that wears it like that, and it’s become an unofficial declaration of his status.

For the last year, Tom has held the revered position of president of the frat. It’s a lot harder than he’d thought it’d be, but it comes with perks. Several perks.

“I’m looking,” Tom replies, crossing his arms.

“At what?”

Discreetly, Tom brings his cup to his lips and uses his index finger to sneakily point across the room. He leads Harrison to you.

“That girl,” he says slowly. “Do you know who she is? Who invited her?”

Tom prides himself on knowing most people on campus—or, at least, anyone he needs to know. Anyone involved in Greek life or the party scene at his college has a face burned to his memory, and he prides himself on recognising matching names too. A lot of power comes with being able to immediately recognise someone. It makes him likeable, and he feels good knowing that someone feels appreciated by him.

“Dunno,” Haz mutters. He squints his eyes as he looks at you too. “She’s with Tyra. Maybe they’re friends?”

Tom scoffs. “Well, I’d guess that, yeah.”

“Are you going to do anything, or continue to stare like a creep?”

After taking a final swig of his drink, Tom pushes the empty plastic cup into Harrison’s hands. His mate thumps him on the back.

“I’ll be back,” he mutters. Then Tom pauses and throws out an easy smile. “Or not. Depends.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

As Tom walks across the crowded room, he tries to hold himself a little straighter. He’s dressed simply tonight, in an all-black combination of t-shirt and jeans, but the gold chain he has around his neck adds a little depth. Around his wrist is his watch, and it glints as Tom reaches up to briefly whip off his hat and tousle his hair. His eyes are fixed firmly on you, and he finds himself grinning when you see him.

You’re even more radiant up close. Your eyes are a beautiful shade, and they fill with curiosity as you look Tom up and down. An expression of intrigue passes over your features as you mutter something to a friend and push away from the doorframe, being pulled to Tom as if by an unseen gravitational force.

“Hi, darling,” Tom leads with, keeping his voice cool. When you step closer, he meets you, easily and lightly pressing his hands to your waist as he kisses your cheek. “I’m Tom.”

You give him a wry smile. “I know who you are,” you reply. Your eyes are fluttering all over his face, and your hips feel soft beneath his hands. “Y/N.”

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he responds easily. He crosses his arms, angling them in a way that makes his muscles bulge. “I’ve not seen you around here before.”

There’s a shyness to your gaze that makes Tom smile wider, and he watches as you fiddle with your hair and tentatively meet his gaze.

“Do you know everyone that comes to your parties, Tom?”

“Yeah.” Tom slips his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Or, at least, I try to. I know I’d definitely remember someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You’re speaking louder now, emboldened by how fully Tom’s giving you his attention. All around you, there are people looking, people whispering. Everywhere Tom goes, he garners attention.

Tom offers you an easy smile, tilting his head to the side as he nods. Sometimes he likes to play it cool and keep his cards close to his chest, but he doesn’t think you’d like that. He doesn’t think the chase is necessary. You’re looking at him with round, inquisitive eyes, and your gaze keeps circling back to his mouth.

“You’re stunning, love,” he says. “Do you want to dance with me?”

You reach out and take his hand, and Tom feels a jolt of warmth trail up his spine. It confuses him. He’s pursued a lot of girls in his life, and he’s felt attraction plenty of times before, but he’s never had his heart ache quite like that from just one touch. As you run your thumb over the back of his hand, you look up at him from beneath your lashes.

“A dance? With the president of the frat?” you tease. As Tom chuckles, you smile cheekily. “I dunno. What can you give me in return, if I give you what you want?”

“Oh, a businesswoman,” he teases. “I see how it is.”

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

Tom arches his brows. “I’m a business major.”

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

For a few minutes, you slip into conversation about your course. Tom learns that you share the same 9am every Monday morning—a class that he only managed to make it to the first week of term. You don’t linger on the topic of academics for too long, though. It doesn’t take much before Tom’s got you in the back corner of the room where it’s quieter, listening to you reel off your first impressions of the frat. You keep your hands on his shoulders, slowly but purposefully rolling your fingers over his shirt, keeping him on his feet as he catches a whiff of your peach perfume every time you move closer.

He almost gets his dance, but then there’s a tap on his shoulder, and it’s one of his brothers, whispering about an incident on the patio involving a table and the pool. Tom grimaces and reluctantly casts his eyes back to you.

“I need to go and sort this out,” he mutters, frustrated. You shrug, biting your lip as you rock back on your heels. “Will I see you later?”

“I don’t know. Will you?”

Tom smiles. “I will,” he promises. Wanting to give a lasting impression, he easily swoops his hand up to cup your cheek. When he receives a nod of approval, he leans in and deposits a lingering kiss to your forehead, inhaling a deep breath of your shampoo and feeling the tip of his nose tingle in response. You cling to his arms a little tighter, and when Tom goes to pull away, he isn’t able to until you’ve kissed his cheek.

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

“Thanks, darling.” Tom gives you a final look, his insides debating whether or not he really needs to go deal with the issue. When there’s a loud shout from out on the patio, he sighs. “Take care.”

Even when he’s out on the terrace, you stay on Tom’s mind. As he oversees two of the guys pulling the table out of the pool, he replays his interaction, mind swirling over your face, your figure, your voice. He finds himself scratching at his chin, not entirely present. After a while, he ends up back in the house, huddled with a group of the guys, and it isn’t until someone pushes Harrison forward that Tom truly comes back into the room.

“How long has it been, man?” Jacob, one of the guys, and one of Tom’s American friends, is grinning at Harrison. The man is standing in the middle of the group, bashful cheeks a light pink.

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

“Bullshit,” Tom adds, chuckling when Harrison flips him off. “Haz hasn’t got laid in months.”

“Fuck off,” Harrison mutters. “Not all of us are as...promiscuous as you, Tom.”

Tom shrugs. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Harrison pauses, stroking his chin. “Dunno,” he finally decides.

Tom rolls his eyes. “We’ll wingman you,” he decides. He looks around at a few of the other guys and doesn’t stop until they’re all nodding and making similar sounds of agreement. “Anyone you like the look of tonight?”

Haz hesitates but eventually shakes his head. “Nah. Haven’t seen who’s around.”

“Alright.” Tom presses his palms together, an idea forming. “Next girl that walks into the room, we’ll set you up with.”

Harrison hesitates. “But what if she’s taken?”

Jacob steps forward, smirking. “The next single girl who walks into this room,” he clarifies. He holds out a hand and raises a brow. “Bet?”

Harrison looks down at Jacob’s hand. A bet, like the one he’s referring to, may as well be as binding as a contract. There’s no going back. He looks to Tom, a little nervous, but the fear vanishes when Tom nods.

“Alright.” Harrison does the frat handshake, and the guys around them all holler. Tom makes his own loud sound of support, grinning widely. “We’ll do it.”

They have to wait for a while. The first few girls that walk in are all accompanied by partners. Tom’s starting to get tetchy and he knows Harrison is too, but as soon as that thought crosses his mind, the universe decides to throw a curveball right into his face.

You walk in.

“Oh, shit,” Jacob says. He elbows Harrison. “There you go.”

Harrison immediately looks at Tom. “Uh… Isn’t she…?”

Tom sucks in a hard breath, the sound sticking behind his teeth. “Yep.” He looks at Harrison, who’s looking particularly deflated.

For a moment, Tom thinks about Haz and everything that he’s done to support him. Harrison flew across oceans to stay with Tom, moved into the frat with him, operates as his right-hand man. He’s his golf buddy, his gym partner, his best mate. For Haz to go back on such a public bet would be the same as resigning himself to social humiliation, and Tom would be a terrible friend for making him do that. Tom can give him this.

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

“Nah.” Tom decides to step up. “It’s a bet. It’s fine.”

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

Tom feels like a petulant child. Now he’s agreed to it, he feels his stomach rebelling. You find yourself at the centre of his attention again as he looks back over, instantly regretting it as the action connects your eyes with his. His breathing catches as your lips pull into an eager smile.

But Tom pushes through it. He looks away and stares at the floor as he nods, strengthening his attitude as he reaches out to smack Harrison on the back.

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

He can barely watch as his guys approach you, and Tom decides to stay back in the corner of the room. It’s clear that you’re confused at first, but through quick discreet glances, Tom watches as you start to talk with Harrison. When Tom gets approached by another girl, you start to speak with Haz more freely, and he assumes that you’ve forgotten all about your conversation from earlier. When Jacob and the others split off, leaving you and Harrison alone in the back corner, Tom has to leave the room.

For a while, Tom drinks. He does a couple of shots out on the patio and chats with a few girls, and eventually, he’s pulled back inside the house. He ends up in the large living room, where the main party is happening, and it seems that you and Harrison have taken it to the next level in his absence.

Tom’s lips curve into a scowl as he looks across the room and sees you, wrapped up in Harrison. The blond’s hands roam all over you, moving from your cheeks, shifting back into your hair before curving down your figure. Tom can barely keep watching as Harrison’s palms curl around your waist and go down to squeeze your ass, and he swears he can almost hear the breathless moan you deposit into the air in response.

He looks away when Harrison starts to nibble at your neck and you toss your head back in pleasure, but Tom can’t stop himself from stealing quick glances every few seconds. In the pit of his stomach lies a terrible beast, acidic and possessive, clawing at his heart. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that he can’t quite shake, even when Tom tosses the remnants of the shit beer down his throat. There are easily a hundred people in the room with him, but he doesn’t care about a single one of them. The only one he cares about is you.

After a few moments of his eyes dissecting the contours of your face, Tom feels someone wrap their arms around his waist. He stiffens, turning his head and looking around until he finds himself staring at the face of a girl from his accounting course. She’s pretty, wearing silver eyeshadow, and Tom thinks that her name is Sasha.

“Hey, Tommy,” she greets. Her perfume smells overpowering and it makes Tom grimace. “Wanna dance with me?”

Tom looks back across the room, his stomach turning as he sees Harrison has pulled you down onto a sofa with him. As you straddle his lips and continue to kiss him, his blood runs hot.

“Fuck yeah, darling,” he mutters. Tom reaches out and wraps an arm around the girl, pulling her closer and letting his eyes fall shut as her lips find their way to his neck. “Let’s dance.”

He doesn’t need you. He barely fucking knows you. Tom has met a thousand girls, and it feels as though he’s kissed as many. The only things he knows about you are inconsequential—who cares if you smell like peaches and wear a glossy lip balm? Who gives a fuck that your voice sounds like a pretty wind-chime. Not Tom, that’s for sure. Tom’s got another girl kissing him and tugging on his hair. He doesn’t need you.

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The pillow that Tom has wedged over his head makes his ears ache and does nothing to obscure the sounds drifting into his room, so after a few moments of failed silence, he throws it aside. A loud huff passes by his lips.

It’s been a month since the party, and every Sunday morning since, without fail, he’s been woken by the sounds of your moans. Harrison’s room is right next door, and though he’d always complained to Tom that the walls are thin, Tom had never been the one on the receiving end like this. It’s always been Tom having lazy post-party sex with a random girl, or Tom taking a girl into the shower room and locking out his brothers all morning. Now it’s Harrison, making noise with you, and suddenly it’s not just the fact that he’s not had sex in four weeks that’s getting on his nerves.

Your moans are loud as they catch in the back of your throat, and they make Tom hard. He grumbles as he reaches down, hands dipping beneath the covers as he pushes a palm beneath his boxers. A softened groan passes past his lips as he pulls out his cock, pausing only to bring his hand back to his lips and spit on it before he starts to jerk off.

Tom had gotten over the guilt of getting off to you without your knowledge two weeks ago. For all he knows, you know that he can hear you, and you’re being so loud for him. He’s learnt that you’re cheeky like that, and the thought makes Tom tug his cock a little harder. Harrison’s bed is squeaky, and he can only imagine that you’re riding him. Tom bites back a moan as he imagines how pretty you must look on top.

He’s spent more time with you now, since that party, and it hasn’t helped his predicament at all. Every time he runs into you, you seem to grow hotter, and his attraction for you only burns brighter when he sees Haz grab your hand or kiss your lips. What had started as a bet for one night together has escalated, and now you’re both dating. Tom doesn’t think that he’s a bad person, nor would he ever say he’s a bad friend, but you’ve become his forbidden fruit.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can’t have you that makes Tom so incensed. He’s never been denied like this—been blocked so unscrupulously and irritatingly. Whilst you aren’t official with Harrison, Tom knows that his mate likes you. Hell, he can hear how much he likes you, right now, as Haz’s bed continues to squeak and your moans rise in volume.

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

It takes an embarrassing two-minute window before Tom’s biting back a yell of your name, cumming in sync with a set of particularly loud whines that you emit next-door. He falls back onto the mattress, his clean hand going up to card through his curls as he tries to catch his breath. For a few moments, he lays there, scowling up at the ceiling as he tries to bathe in the afterglow of release, but it goes crashing down again when he hears your light giggles followed by Harrison’s deep guffaws.

Tom practically storms out of bed, wiping at his hand with some tissues before he stamps into a pair of grey joggers and leaves his room, slamming the door loudly in his wake. He hopes the sound scares Harrison so much he falls off his fucking bed.

The bad mood continues, even after Tom’s leapt through the shower and scrubbed at his ears. He ends up in the frat’s kitchen, the wide space still partially littered with solo cups and discarded bags of crisps from the party the night before. There are a few junior members of the frat hobbling around with black bin bags, looking pale and peaky. When they see Tom, they try and pretend they’re not hungover, and their act of skittish admiration is enough to make him feel a little better.

He’s just starting to assemble a protein shake when the air in the kitchen changes. Tom finds his eyes drifting towards the door, just in time to watch you walk in. The sun seems to follow you as you stroll into the kitchen, one hand at your side as the other plays with the tips of your hair, a relaxed smile on your face. As you look around the room and take stock of the several fratboys sitting on random pieces of furniture, your smile draws shyer, and Tom watches you glance down at your feet as you hurry towards the counters to where he is. You catch his eye, a blinding smile unfurling across your lips as you raise a hand in greeting.

As you sweep close, Tom blinks himself out of his stupor. He swallows down the lump in his throat as he steps forward to kiss your cheek, his hands falling onto your shoulders. When you step away, he takes in your outfit. Your legs are mostly bare, but you’re in a pair of shorts with an oversized grey t-shirt slouched on top of you. Tom’s eager eyes dip down, caressing your chest until they find the pointed tips of your nipples, straining against the fabric.

He clears his throat as he feels his cock prick to life.

“Morning, darling,” he manages, immediately turning around and facing the counter. He uses the smoothie as a pretence, but really he doesn’t want you to see the building bulge between his legs.

You seem to be oblivious, and Tom sucks in a breath as you step close. You place your chin on his shoulder and peer over it, comfortably leaning into him, and he swears he can feel your tits brushing up against his bare spine.

“Morning, Tom,” you greet, voice raspy and pure. “How’s your hangover?”

Tom chuckles, focusing very intently on ignoring the way your minty breath fans out across his cheek. You’ve got your arms wrapped loosely around him, hugging him easily and comfortably. He’d never complain that you’re at ease around him, but it doesn’t help his boner.

“Fine,” he responds, playing it cool. “I’m a pro at this, darling. Can’t remember the last time I had a hangover.”

You snort, and despite the loud volume, Tom thinks it’s a beautiful sound.

“You’re so fucking cocky,” you murmur, voice vibrating straight into his ear. “I feel like I’m going to die. Head’s killing me.”

Tom coos. He spends a moment violently mixing some green protein powder into the rest of his smoothie, then reaches up and rummages through a cupboard. When he procures a packet of painkillers, you release a deep sound of relief and finally step back.

“There you go, love,” he mutters. He makes sure to brush your hand with his as he passes it to you, smirking slightly when you jump. A lot of the time, Tom thinks his attraction to you is one-sided, but then something like this happens and casts doubt on that assessment. Neither of you has mentioned the night that you met, and sometimes he wonders if he should bring it up.

Tired and slightly delirious, Tom decides to test the waters. Just for fun, because he can, and because he likes the thought of making you flustered. He knows that his reputation precedes him and that you probably buy into the idea that he’s a flirt as much as everyone else does. If you respond badly, he’ll just blame it on his naturally charming disposition, and if Haz takes issue with it, well… Tom will just bring up the many red marks on his ledger.

“Thanks, Tom,” you say. He watches you rummage through a cupboard and pull out a glass, and his eyes follow your legs as you lean over the sink to get water and the hem of the shirt rides up.

“You know you’re fucking stunning, yeah?” Tom says before he can second-guess his plan.

You freeze, the waterline in your glass threatening to spill as you try to process his words. When you look back, there’s an expression of curious bewilderment on your face.

“What?”

Tom, his boner finally soft again, turns around to face you properly. He brings his arms over his chest, smirking wider as he watches you look at the curves of his biceps. He’s shirtless, and he knows the hours he’s spent in the yard doing weights with Haz shows in the firm definition of his abs and pecs. You seem to enjoy looking at him.

“You look hot.” Tom watches your face very carefully, not wanting to cross too many lines. “I bet Harrison told you that though, this morning.”

Something shifts on your face, and you bite your lip. “Well…”

“Well?”

“Harrison doesn’t say much in the mornings. Or, well, ever.” You pause, a deep line carving between your troubled brows. “He isn’t very vocal.”

Tom hums, stepping a little closer. “Harrison is good at a lot of things, but he has certain shortcomings.”

You lick your lower lip, and Tom’s gaze lingers on the glistening trail of your saliva.

“Like what?”

Tom makes a non-committal noise and pauses to take a sip of his smoothie.

“Well, you know. He’s very intense. He doesn’t always see what’s right in front of him.”

You raise an amused eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be friends?”

“We are. He’s my best mate. But that doesn’t mean I can’t criticise him for acting carelessly.” Tom drops his voice, letting you see the way he checks you out. “I just think that he doesn’t appreciate how lucky he is sometimes.”

You turn away, breaking eye contact as you take your pills. As you hum a soft tune, you pick up the kettle and fill it up, only looking back to Tom when it’s been plugged in and starting to boil.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” you reply, voice curious. You step closer until you’re standing in front of Tom, your eyes again going to his bare chest. “What does Harrison have that you don’t think he appreciates enough?” The suggestive look in your eyes matches the seductive inflexion in your voice, and Tom feels a shiver pass down his spine.

He plays it off coolly, shrugging slightly. “I’m just saying, darling, that if I had the honour of waking up beside someone as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t let you out of my sights all morning.” Tom reaches out slowly, gently letting his fingers bridge the gap between you as he toys with the hem of your shirt. You move closer, subtly encouraging him to continue, so Tom lets his hands shift up to hold your waist, feeling your curious eyes on him the whole time. “What was he thinking, eh? Letting such a lovely lady leave his bed. Crazy.”

You chuckle, a bashful smile on your face as you gnaw your lower lip. “Well, he wanted tea.”

Tom hums. “And I think that that’s bullshit.” He pauses suddenly, eyebrows raising as he finally looks away from your face and finds his gaze sticking on an emblem branded to your big t-shirt. A deep chuckle vibrates through his chest. Of fucking course. “You know what this is, love?” he asks, tugging at your shirt. When you shake your head, he grins. “Boyfriend material.”

Your reaction is immediate: soft frown, arched brows, confused stare.

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

Tom clicks his tongue. “Never said he was.” He rolls his hands up your sides, gently caressing your warm figure. Though he wants to run his palms higher to your chest, he stops himself. “This is my shirt, babe. Laundry gets them mixed up all the time, but it’s mine.”

Your lips part and you look between Tom and your shirt with horror in your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur. Immediately, your hands fly down to the hem. “Do you want me to take it off?”

He shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “As much as I’m sure I’d like that, there are too many other people in here.” He feels jealous again just thinking about it.

You nod, pausing the movement after a second as your eyes narrow. “Wait, how do you even know? It’s just a plain t-shirt?”

“What, you think I’m making this up?” Tom’s smirking again, and it widens as you fluster. “‘S alright, love.” He reaches up and points at the emblem which marks an event from rush week last year. “Logo,” he states. “And… I think you’ll find if we take a look at the label on the back, it’s got my name on it.”

You let him manhandle you, melting back into his hold as Tom stands forward and turns you around. He brushes your hair out of the way and reaches up, gracing his fingers over your spine as he delicately pulls out the back label. You won’t be able to see it, but it fills him with smugness to see his initials stained stark against the label: TSH.

“Well… I’m sorry, anyway.” Your voice is hoarse, light and feathery as if you’re holding your breath. Tom lets his hand rest on your shoulder after he’s tucked the label back. He’d move away, but you’re leaning into him completely, your hands grasping at the palm that he has curled around your stomach. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

Tom leans down, and in a bold move, very gently kisses the base of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm beneath his lips, and the breathless gasp you release is just as sweet.

“It’s okay,” he rumbles. He pauses, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales your peachy scent. “Feel free to use it any time you’d like.”

Not wanting to push too hard, Tom leaves a final, wetter kiss to the bottom of your neck before moving back, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and repositioning his hands back on the counter. He leans against the wooden cabinets, wondering if you’d been able to feel his hard-on that’d peskily bounced back when he’d heard your whimper.

If you feel anything, you don’t say anything. In fact, you’re quiet as you step to the side and pour out the boiled water into two mugs. “Thanks,” you say, speaking through the steam. You glance back to Tom, and he swears your eyes are darker. “It’s soft.”

Tom sips his smoothie, eyeing you over the brim as you poke at a tea bag with a metal teaspoon.

“Fabric softener,” he says, nodding slightly. His brain is running slow, still caught up on how nice it’d felt to kiss your neck. “It suits you.”

You throw him another shy smile. “How does Haz take his tea again? No sugar, yeah?”

Tom bites his lip. “Wrong,” he lies. “Haz likes three sugars. Don’t be afraid to put in a little more, though.”

You eye him sceptically. “I don’t think that’s right.”

“He is my best friend, love,” Tom says. He hides his mischievous grin behind his smoothie, and he watches you roll your eyes. “Listen, if he’s got a problem with it, he can take it up with me or he can come and make his own cup of sodding tea. Lazy bastard.”

You snort, and Tom feels his stomach turn as he watches you spoon three teaspoons into Haz’s mug.

“Well, I’ll let you know what he says,” you mutter. Finally, you pick up the mugs in your hands and walk forward, pausing in front of Tom. Your eyes skim his figure again, briefly zeroing in on his chest before caressing the fine lines of his lips. “Thanks for keeping me company. This was fun.”

Tom nods and steps forward to kiss your cheek. He hopes you can feel how desperately he wants to press his lips to yours.

“Any time, darling,” he assures. “If you ever need anything, you know where I am, yeah?” He lets his teeth brush your earlobe as he pulls back slowly, smiling to himself when he sees you shiver.

“Yeah,” you murmur. You swallow deeply, and your eyes hold his gaze for one moment longer before you tear them away. “Have a nice morning, Tom.”

Tom watches you walk across the kitchen, almost stumbling when you get distracted trying to look over your shoulder back at him. He smirks, raising a few fingers in a lazy wave.

“See ya!” he calls back.

His blood doesn’t stop pumping until you’re all the way out of sight, and even after that, he knows the only way he’ll be able to properly shake you is by attending to his hard-on. Again.

You’re like a shadow that won’t stop chasing him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party is in full swing, and Tom feels like a king.

There are several benefits to parading the title of president of the frat. Tom gets the largest room in the house, along with an ensuite. He’s able to prioritise himself on the gym schedule and the cleaning rota. Every party, he’s looked up to, treated like royalty, his every wish and command carried out by his brothers. If he doesn’t like a song, it’s changed. All it takes is one arched brow in the direction of a partygoer, and they’re ejected from the house. The beer is his favourite make, and everyone loves him.

Tom has the whole world in his hands, which is why it’s incredibly infuriating that his kingdom tonight isn’t ordered how he’d like it.

It’s two months into the semester, and the buzz that’d characterised earlier parties has faded. Finals are coming up soon, so maybe that’s why Tom feels unsettled. Or, maybe it’s the fact that the music isn’t hitting quite as well as usual. It could be that he hasn’t tied his shoes as tightly as he normally does, or maybe that the vibe within the house is just...off.

But Tom knows exactly what the problem is if he brings himself to think about it. He’s tried drowning his ugly feelings in cheap beer, but there’s no denying it: his mood had taken a significant plummet when he’d glanced across the room and seen Harrison with his hands all over you, your lips locked together. The shard of jealousy that had lodged itself in the warm precipice of his heart is unshakeable, and there’s a horrible bitter taste on his tongue.

Tom is so fucking jealous that he’s about two seconds away from pointing at the couple and getting someone to kick you out.

“Bro. Bro. The fuck is wrong with you, man?”

It’s probably a good thing that Tom’s been interrupted, as he’s fairly sure there’s enough poison in his gaze to burn off a large patch of Harrison’s hair. He shakes a grimace over his lips as he looks to the side, eyes falling to his friend, Jacob. Jacob’s in a loose Hawaiian shirt, the red and white pattern glowing under the luminescence of the UV lights.

“What?” Tom says, playing it cool. He takes another drink, shuddering slightly as he lets the alcohol ease him.

“You look like you want to beat someone up.” Jacob squints, trying to look in the direction that Tom knows he’d been staring in. “I only see Haz. Are you guys, like… Good?”

Tom releases a short bark. “‘Course, man,” he says, voice lifting lighter. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Jacob scoffs. It’s loud in the crowded living room, but Tom can feel the undertones. “Uh, we all know about the bet. We all also know that you’d had your eyes on Y/N before Haz pulled her.” He pauses, wiggling his brows until Tom punches his arm and scowls. “I’m just sayin’... Seems like you have some unresolved shit going on.”

Tom doesn’t deem him with a response, not knowing where to start with that. It’s Saturday night. The last thing he wants to do is talk about this. He already drives himself mad every other day of the week as he ponders this particular puzzle.

“We need to get the energy up,” Tom mutters. He spins around, beckoning over a few of his friends with his hands. Someone gives him a shot, and he downs it before looking back at Jacob. “We’ll do a game or something. Get people. We’ll do it on the patio.”

Ten minutes later, there’s an assembly of partygoers on the terrace at the back of the house. It’s a mix of sorority girls, jocks, and fratbros, but Tom doesn’t pay them much attention as he claims his spot on a rickety canvas camping chair and sits back. He lets Jacob take the lead, doing another two shots when he sees you and Haz join the circle.

You’re in a black dress tonight, the material skimming just above your knees. As you walk out onto the patio, the midnight breeze swishes the hem up a little, and Tom watches as you giggle and drop Haz’s hand to smooth it down. Harrison presses an easy kiss to your cheek, and the smile on your face builds. It freezes when you spot Tom, your eyes darkening as your teeth dig into the pink flesh of your lower lip. Tom raises a brow, watching you stand a little straighter as your gaze runs over his form, lingering on the golden chain he’d pulled on earlier.

The spell breaks when Harrison sits on a chair and tugs you down with him, an expression of irritation briefly souring your angelic face before you smooth it back. Tom doesn’t look away until Jacob starts to speak.

“Spin the bottle,” Jacob announces, looking around at each person. There are a few groans, but they’re drowned out by the cheers. Tom just rolls his eyes, sitting back and briefly surveying the circle. He’s pretty sure he’s pulled at least five of the girls already, and the rest of them seem fine, too. Obviously, there’s only one person he’d want the spin to land on, but he’s already accepted that the universe isn’t on his side when it comes to you.

A few rounds pass. Tom isn’t really paying attention until the neck of the bottle lands on him and he has to kiss a girl from his psychology class. It’s a quick kiss, and her lip gloss makes his mouth tingle, but Tom only realises how hammered he is when he has to sit up from his chair and lean over to spin the bottle.

Tom looks around the circle as his fingers ponder the glass, grasping the attention of the group like he’s holding court. He looks at you and finds you looking at him, your lower lip held between your teeth as Harrison rubs your arm. Haz has you in his lap, your legs thrown across his thighs as you sit on him sideways. Harrison’s blond curls rest up against the side of your face, and Tom has to look away as he grimaces.

The bottle spins. It clatters quickly over the paving stone, hurtling with an angry force that Tom hadn’t entirely intended to use. He holds his breath, his eyes widening as it stops. Pointing at you.

“Looks like that’s Y/N,” Jacob announces.

Tom sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at Harrison. His mate’s eyes have lost their charm, a deep frown settled on his face. Tom thinks he looks exactly like the tough-faced models from Vogue with that mardy scowl on his face. He raises a brow, as if to say, up to you, and watches as you turn in Harrison’s lap and whisper something into his ear.

A moment passes, and Tom’s surprised when Haz nods and pushes you up from his lap. He meets Tom’s eyes, giving him another smaller nod, and Tom sits back, pleasantly resigned to the fact that Harrison isn’t going to ruin the game.

“Hi,” you greet as you approach him, smiling.

Tom reaches out, offering you his hands as you finish treading over the collection of limbs and shoes that crowd the patio. Your fingers are so soft in his.

“Hi, darling,” he responds. Tom feels hot, everywhere, and he hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “You look stunning,” he adds, voice quieter.

“Thanks.”

You hesitate, eyeing him up and down as if trying to assess the best way to kiss him. The girl he’d just kissed had bent over to press her lips to his, and as Tom remembers this, he drops one of your hands and reaches up and wipes his mouth again, trying to eradicate all traces of her lips. When he’s achieved this, he tentatively reaches up and presses the palm to your waist. Respectfully, of course. There are a lot of people watching.

You seem to be less reluctant to indulge, and Tom feels his eyes widen as you step forward and sink into his lap, your knees bending as you press your shins into the canvas of the camping chair on either side of Tom’s thighs. Suddenly your face is hanging in front of his, warm breath coming out over his face, and Tom has just enough time to wonder why your breath smells of pineapples before you’re leaning in.

He kisses you, and for a few seconds, he’s frozen. Everything that he’s learnt at the frat and over the course of his college life goes flying out the window, and he’s left feeling like a kid again. The background noise filters out, and all he can focus on is the weight of your body pressing into his legs and the feeling of your lips, soft and silky, moving over his. When you reach up to weave a hand into his hair, he comes back around, the roar of the party filling his ears as an adrenaline rush floods his chest.

Tom knows this will probably be his only chance to kiss you, so he leaves nothing behind. He brings both hands to your waist, urging you closer as he recovers his charm and kisses you properly. His tongue works into your open mouth, pressing against you and exploring the sweet space of your lips as you moan into him. He feels your fingers drift down, one of your hands staying bedded in his curls as the other plays with his chain. Never before has Tom felt so consumed by a kiss, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to reach around and grab handfuls of your skin, wouldn’t hold back his kisses, or his moans, or his coos of praising endearment. He’d give you everything.

When you pull back, your nose brushes up against his, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world.

“How was that?” you ask, voice quiet. There’s a shyness to your disposition, a nervousness as you meet his eyes.

Tom reaches up, holding your cheek and brushing his thumb across your chin. He tidies up your smudged lipstick as he squeezes your waist.

“Perfect,” he replies, voice low. He can feel Harrison staring at him, but he doesn’t give a fuck. “You’re… You’re incredible, darling.”

You sit a little taller, looking proud of yourself. “Well, now I understand what all the hype is about,” you mutter. “You’re a good kisser. A really good kisser.” You pause as a shiver works its way down your spine, and Tom glances at your bare arms.

“Here,” he mutters. When you stand from his lap, he’s glad his jeans have some wiggle room so his raging boner is less obvious. Tom’s quick to shrug off his jacket, and he passes it up to you without a second thought. “Don’t freeze,” he says, wagging a finger at you.

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

You bite your lip. “Won’t you be cold?”

Tom just flexes his biceps, smirking again as he sees you checking out his muscles. “Got these bad boys to keep me warm,” he teases, pointing at his guns. He softens, just for a moment. “It’s fine. Said you could always use my stuff, didn’t I?”

You look flustered, opening and then immediately closing your mouth before turning around and making your way back over to Harrison. Tom sits back in his chair, trying halfheartedly to suppress the smirk that continues to hold his lips as he admires how nice his jacket looks draped loosely across your shoulders. You always wear his clothes so well.

Tom looks at Jacob, who shakes his head in response. Then he looks at Harrison, and he can’t stop himself from laughing. Harrison’s a shade of salmon pink, and it only softens out a little bit when you settle back into his lap and kiss his cheek. Tom watches Harrison flip him off then pull you closer and kiss you harshly, and messily. You don’t seem as into it as you’d been with Tom, he realises. You’re holding back, grimacing slightly as Harrison pulls back a triumphant moment later.

The game concludes a while later, but Tom stays out on the patio, feeling dizzier by the second. The camping chair is comfortable, and the chill in the air helps him feel soberer. Whilst Tom doesn’t regret the multiple cups of beer and several shots, he does consider that he might’ve gone a little too far in his efforts to forget about you.

You’re gone, now. Out of sight, back in the party. Tom’s making light conversation with a few of the guys still left in the circle, but they clear out when a shadowy presence falls across the patio. It doesn’t take long for Tom to realise it’s Harrison, and he tries his best to sit up straight and look less smug as Harrison drags a chair over and places it opposite Tom.

Harrison stares at him, hard. He’s in a matching snapback and a loose white t-shirt, his ring glinting as he crosses his fingers and examines Tom’s face.

“So…” Tom starts, disliking how charged the air is. “Y’alright, Haz?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom,” Harrison says instead. When Tom pulls a face, he sharpens his gaze. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tom chuckles. He’s feeling drunk and annoying. “Well, that’s a bit of an unspecific question, Harrison. There are many things that you might say are wrong with me—”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Harrison breaks off, sighing loudly as he flops back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. He looks smaller, nervous. “Do you have a thing for my girl?”

Instinctively, Tom shakes his head. “Y/N?” he says dumbly. When Harrison nods, Tom hums. “Is she your girl?”

Harrison flounders for a moment. “I mean… Technically no, but we’ve been hooking up for two months.” He pauses, grimacing. “Look, mate. I know I fucked it when we met her. I knew you wanted her, and I still took on the bet. But I really fucking like her now, and… And…”

“And?”

“If you decide that you want her, you’ll get her. You always do.” Harrison grumbles as he crosses his arms. “Can I not have one thing? Just one.”

“You do know that Y/N is perfectly capable of making her own decisions, yeah?” Tom says, only slurring slightly.

“Oh, yeah. Of course, of course.” Harrison’s bobbing his head almost comically. “But still… Do you know what I mean?”

Tom closes his eyes for a few moments, the patio spinning. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Haz, I love you, man. You know what I’m like. I’m a flirt.” He cracks open an eye and gives Harrison a dopey smile, and the next words he speaks are the truth. “I wouldn’t seriously try to steal your girl, alright? I wouldn’t sleep with her if you guys have a thing. We were just playing the game.”

Harrison releases a deep breath. “Thanks, man, I—”

“Wait.” Tom feels bolder. “You do need to tell her, though.”

“Tell her what?”

Tom narrows his eyes. “You know what,” he says, speaking to a very sheepish-looking Harrison. “She’d want to know that your relationship is built from a bet. If you… If you seriously think that you’re g’nna have a fucking relationship with her, she needs honesty.” Just the thought of you and Harrison going official makes him feel sick.

“No way.” Harrison’s curls go flying as he shakes his head. “Fuck that. Are you mad? She’d break it off.”

Tom grimaces and looks away from Harrison. “I’m just saying,” he mutters. “You shouldn’t lie to the people you care about.”

It’s rich coming from him, but Tom knows that nothing he’s said has been a lie. He won’t sleep with you if you’re still with Haz. Maybe he’d try to break you both up, but he wouldn’t purposefully sleep with someone in a relationship. Logistically, he doesn’t think he’d be able to, even if he wanted to, because despite the tantalising banter he’s able to carry out with you, you’re a good person. You’d never cheat on Harrison.

“Yeah.” Harrison looks guilty now. “I guess.” His eyes shift away from Tom, falling to someone else. Tom startles when he feels two hands come down to rest on his shoulders, and glances down, only relaxing when he recognises the silver rings curled around your fingers.

As if a deity, you’ve appeared, just when Tom was thinking about you. He wonders if it’ll always work like this.

“Hi,” you greet, looking first to Harrison, then Tom. “What are you guys talking about?”

You’re standing behind his chair, perfume light and peachy. When Tom cranes his head back, your perfect face blurs.

“Nothin’,” he murmurs, a sleepy grin on his lips.

You chuckle. “How drunk are you right now?” you ask.

Tom makes a non-committal sound. “I don’t want to stand up and find out,” he admits. “So I’m just going to stay here until I get sober.”

“What if it rains?”

“Well, I guess I’ll get wet.” He reaches back and grabs lightly at his jacket, still covering your upper half. “Some thief ran off with my jacket.”

You snort, then pat his shoulders before walking around to the front of his chair. You offer him your hands, and Tom takes them easily.

“Babe?” Harrison pipes up. “What are you doing?”

With ease, you help Tom up from the chair. He fakes it a little, exaggerating just how woozy he is so that you have to wrap your arms around his waist. He hides his mischievous smirk in the crook of your neck, suppressing his guilt. He wasn’t lying to Harrison—he will stay in his lane. But old habits die hard, and you’re very warm, and he’s very drunk, especially with the blood rushing to his head.

“Putting him to bed,” you respond. “He’s tired.”

Suddenly, Tom finds himself yawning. He leans into you, pouting softly at Harrison as he tries to look as exhausted as possible. He’s always been a convincing actor, and his friend buys it completely.

“Alright,” Harrison says. “Do you need help?”

You shake your head. “Nah,” you respond. “I’ll be fine.” You squeeze Tom’s waist. “He’s just a big teddy bear.”

Tom doesn’t think he likes that (if anything, he’s a lion), but it seems to ease Harrison. The man presses forward, kissing your cheek before giving Tom a firm pat on his shoulder.

“Right, then,” he says. “I’ll be inside.” Harrison glances at Tom, reluctance filling his blue eyes before fading slowly. “Sweet dreams, bro.”

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

“Don’t ever fucking call me that again.”

Tom’s still chuckling as you lead him back inside, and he knows that you’re trying not to giggle too.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom already knows that you’re cute, but as you help him up the staircase and get him ready for bed, your adorableness really comes through.

“Drink this,” you announce, walking back into his bedroom with a glass of water in your hands. Tom admires the way that you walk, glad he’s already in bed and hiding beneath the covers. Your hair is a little wild, and he knows that’s probably his fault—Tom’s cheeky, and he’s especially persistent when he’s hammered, and he might’ve been a bit mischievous in the bathroom when you’d tried to convince him to brush his teeth, refusing until you’d had to physically push the brush into his mouth. You’d rolled your eyes, and he’d been distracted by watching you in the mirror.

“What is it?” he asks annoyingly. Now Tom is almost naked, clad only in his boxers, and he does a deliberately long stretch of his arms above his head, smirking as the duvet falls down to expose his toned torso.

You roll your eyes again as you sit on the edge of his bed, pushing the glass into his hands. “Water,” you supply. You stare at him, raising a brow. “Probably won’t help with the hangover, but I feel like I need to try.”

Tom takes a few sips, looking at you over the rim of the glass. You look tired, up close. Still glowing, and beautiful, and gorgeous, but tired. Your lipstick is faded, and he can see the shadows of your dark circles peeking through your makeup.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You glance at him, chuckling shortly before looking down at your hands. You play around with a few of your rings, sighing.

“Just tired,” you respond. You manage a forced smile. “Doesn’t matter.”

He frowns. “It does.” Tom obediently downs the entire glass, wanting to coax a smile to your face. “Why’d you come out if you’re tired?”

“Haz wanted me to.” You bring your eyes back to Tom. “I wanted to come and support you, too.”

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

You scrunch up the end of your nose as you stand from his bed, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “Well, I do care about you, Tom. I know there’s a lot of pressure on you to make the parties good.”

Warmth bursts through Tom’s chest. “That’s so cute,” he mutters. He looks up at you, the light being cast from the ceiling light cascading over your shoulders like a halo. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re plastered,” you respond, smiling. You walk closer, running a hand over the top of the duvet until you reach Tom. When you’re standing up by his head, you tentatively reach down to push his shoulders. “Lie down,” you coax. “Bedtime.”

Tom sinks into his mattress with ease, smiling when you gently pick up his head and plump the pillows. You reach down and pull the duvet up to his chin, tucking it in around his chest firmly, your tongue held between your teeth as you go. You’re very attentive, and the sight of you looking after him so well doesn’t help his predicament at all.

“Thanks, darling,” Tom murmurs. He sighs contentedly. “So comfy,” he whines. “Why don’t you stay with me if you’re tired?” He cracks open an eye just in time to see the expression of shock on your face fade to one of amusement.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you respond. “Can you imagine how confused you’d be waking up in the morning?”

“Would be a good kind of confusion, though.” Tom rounds out his eyes, trying to look as soft and unassuming as possible. “I’m a great bed partner, babe. I won’t kick you. I’ll give you space. Or, if you want, I’ll cuddle you. I’m great at cuddling people.”

You just laugh, your face vibrant and light. “You’re so funny,” you say. “I wonder if you’ll remember this tomorrow.”

Tom scowls, grumpily snuggling further into bed. “I invite a pretty girl into my bed and she rejects me,” he grumbles. “Your loss, baby.”

“You sound more and more like a fratboy every time we speak.” You stand back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him up and down. “Right. I left painkillers on the side, and there’s more water too. Sweet dreams, Tom.”

You turn to leave, but Tom makes a noise of objection. You pause, raising a brow in question.

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

You laugh again but step back towards him. You bend over, necklace dangling in Tom’s face as your hands smooth up to rest in his hair. He’s overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume and the close proximity, and for a moment, he thinks you’re going to imitate the breathtaking kiss from earlier. But then you move up. You kiss his forehead, gently, stroking a few strands of his hair as your lips linger against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. When you pull back, Tom has a dumb expression on his face, and he’s glad that you follow up the kiss by turning off his lamp.

“Night, Tom,” you say, walking across the room. There’s a single shard of light, peeking into his room through the open door, and it illuminates your silhouette as you pause there.

“Night, Y/N,” he responds, voice slightly thick.

You gently close the door behind you and leave Tom alone, with nothing but his thoughts and his fantasies to entertain him. He grumbles as he turns over, a very prominent and selfish thought pushing to the front of his mind:

Tom loves Harrison, but he’s fed up. He can’t carry on like this, yearning incessantly. He doesn’t want to stay in his lane, he wants you to be his girl. Desperately.

Tom has to do something. He has to make you his.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You think that whoever scheduled Intro to International Business for 9am on a Monday hates all college students.

It’s dreary as you make the hungover trek to campus. The ache in the front of your skull rattles with each sombre step, and you never get used to the chill of November’s dark mornings despite having plenty of experience with them now. You’re bundled up in a hoodie, a jacket, and a scarf, yet the flecks of grey raindrops still manage to soak you. By the time you reach the lecture theatre, you’re grouchy and regretting ever leaving your bed.

At the time, going to the frat party the night before had seemed like a great idea—Harrison hadn’t stopped blowing up your phone about it all weekend, and you’d felt compelled to keep him company. There were other factors that made you eager to go, too.

It’s all a blur now. Spin the bottle, disrupting Harrison’s tense conversation with Tom, taking the latter upstairs. You think about the sight of Tom bundled up in bed, duvet pulled to his pouting lips, and your entire body bursts into flame, rippling with an unrestrained desire that makes you feel guilty for just existing. You’d been so affected by the events of the night before that you’d had to go home, too overwhelmed to stay with Harrison in the room beside Tom’s.

Most of the seats around you are empty. You’re early despite rolling out of bed after sleeping through your first alarm. As you settle into the back of the theatre, you begrudgingly pull out a pad of paper and a pen, wishing you’d thought to bring sunglasses. This is the class that you supposedly share with Tom and Harrison—also business majors—yet they’ve never made an appearance beyond a half-assed attempt in the first week. Sometimes you wonder how they’re both able to pass a class they never show face in.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Who the fuck scheduled this so early? They’re taking the piss.”

You startle as a grouchy voice enters your space, and your eyes snap up just in time to see a dark figure drop down into the open seat beside you. The deep navy blue hoodie is pulled above his head, and he immediately crosses his arms, but you know without a doubt who it is.

“Tom?” you ask, voice full of shock. You sit forward, reaching out to place a hand on his arm as you peer at him. When you meet his pale face and see the thick sunglasses covering his eyes, your eyebrows raise. “Since when do you come to class?”

Tom clicks his tongue, lips curving into a smirk. It’s a little disconcerting that you can’t see his eyes, but you can tell they’re dark and seductive. They always are.

“What d’you mean?” he teases. “I’m always here.”

“As if.”

He shrugs and breaks off for a moment to yawn. “Thought I should start being a good student, ‘n all,” he mutters. “Finals next month, and everything.”

“And how’s your hangover?”

Tom pulls a face. All of a sudden, he leans over, rummaging through his bag with loud actions until he procures a bottle of water and a bag of mixed nuts. When he sits back up, he pushes down his hood and jerks off his sunglasses, exposing the damage. You wince as you take in the deep bags beneath his eyes and the way his brown irises are marred with red. He still manages to smile, though, and after ripping open his snack, crunches a couple in quick succession.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I don’t get hungover, but if I do, it clears pretty fast. I’m built differently.”

You snort. “Yeah right,” you mutter. You find yourself looking at his lips, and briefly, you’re transported to how incredible they felt last night when you’d straddled him and kissed him. Quick to shake that off, you find yourself blinking as you stare at him. “You were trashed last night. I had to take you to bed. Do you remember?”

Tom gives a hapless shrug, not quite looking into your eyes. You wonder, not for the first time, what thoughts are running through his mind. He confuses you immensely.

The night you’d met, you’d been convinced you’d end up sleeping with him. He’d swaggered over to you, dripping charm, looking incredibly hot in an all-black ensemble, chain, and cap, then he’d kissed your forehead and promised to see you later. Just, you hadn’t seen him later—instead, his friends had not-so-subtly set you up with Harrison as Tom had stood across the room, watching. A part of you had felt side-lined by him, but Harrison is attractive, so you’d jumped on him the moment you could.

Harrison is nice. He’s kind. Dependable. He’s the kind of boy that you could easily take home to your mother and hear nothing but kind words about. He isn’t always the most attentive, but he’s funny, and he cares for you, so it’s fine.

Tom is… Tom is an entirely different ballpark. There are no words to describe Tom Holland. You’d thought you knew enough about him before meeting him at the party, but the man you’ve come to know since doesn’t match up to the reputation that surrounds him. Tom is cheeky—it’s obvious in his flirtatious jokes, and his lingering touches, and his habit of kissing your cheek every single time he sees you. He’s funny too, but his sense of humour isn’t mean or callous like most of the lads in his house. Beneath the hardy exterior lies someone who genuinely cares, and looks out for the people he loves.

He makes you feel alive, each one of your cells burning and sizzling every time he’s around. Tom makes you feel the pounding rhythm of your heartbeat everywhere—in your ears, in your chest, between your legs. He gives you everything, whilst giving you nothing at all. It’s entirely perplexing.

You need to stop comparing them. It’s not a competition. You’re seeing Harrison, and Tom has no genuine interest in you. You’re friends, and he’s flirty, but that’s it. You’re friends, and you shared the best kiss of your life last night, but that doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t matter that Tom fires you up the right way, because it’s one-sided, and you’re with Haz.

Tom ignores your question about the night before and instead tips his bag of nuts towards you.

“Care for a nut?”

You snort as you pick out a cashew, crunching it softly as he watches. Tom’s deep brown eyes linger on your lower lip as you slowly lick the salt from it.

“Delicious,” you say, earning a loud cackle from your companion.

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

“No, you just have your mind in the gutter. Not everything has to be an innuendo, Tom.”

“Wrong. Everything can be and is an innuendo if you try hard enough. You should know this by now, darling. You’ve spent enough time with me.”

“Maybe, but not all of us share your immature sense of humour, Tom.”

He gasps, eyebrows sliding up his forehead in mock shock. “Are you calling me a child?”

“Childish,” you clarify, smirking as he shoots daggers at you. “You’re such a boy.”

Tom sits back, blinking a few times in quick succession before clearing his throat. His eyes seem to darken as he leans in closer, bringing a hand up to rest on your shoulder. His fingers are warm as he pushes the hair from your face and gently tucks it behind your ear, leaning across the seat until he’s able to whisper gently.

“I am not a boy,” he coos, voice soft. “I’ve just never broken out the proper charm on you, darling.”

Your throat runs dry as his hot breath fans out across the side of your face, minty fresh.

“And what is this proper charm?”

Tom opens his mouth to speak, but it fades a moment later. He pulls back, appearing to lose his cool last minute as his cheeks flush.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mutters instead. He shifts around in his seat, looking back at you for a split-second before glancing away. Tom’s reluctant to meet your eyes, and you watch, confused, as he chugs about half his bottle of water before pulling off his hoodie. He’s still flushed—face warmer and more alive than it’s been all morning.

Your brows furrow as you look at Tom’s shirt. “Hey, is that the one I borrowed the other week?” you ask, speaking before you have time to process the words.

Tom chuckles, regaining his charm as he throws his hoodie on top of his bag and turns to face you, a hand lodging in his hair. It’s longer than it’d been at the start of the semester, a few strands dangling over his forehead.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Smells of you.” Something crosses over Tom’s face, and he flashes you the tips of his pearly teeth as he smirks. “Smells of us, darling.”

Your reaction is immediate and uncontrollable. A hot flush, moving through your entire body, forming in your centre and rolling across your figure from the inside out. You hope that you can play it off by pulling your notebook into your lap. The back of your mouth is dry, but you manage a weak, quipping response of, “you should wash that,” before you spiral too far.

It’s in the small things. His comments. His lingering touches. His smirks. Tom drives you crazy.

The lecture starts, but you don’t pay it much attention. Instead, you stay huddled up in the back with Tom, killing time as he shows you a collection of photos from the night before. After flicking through the snapshots from a very blurry night, Tom moves on to a different folder in his phone, nimble fingers swiping across the screen and showing off some of his favourite memes. You end up almost crying from laughter, clutching to his arm as you bend over in your seat and try to pass by undetected by the notoriously strict professor. Tom’s hand soothes over your back, and you briefly wonder if you should dissolve into laughter more often just so he can bring you back down.

When the class finishes, Tom throws his arm across your shoulders and walks you across campus. It’s only when you’re halfway towards the car park that you realise where he’s taking you.

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

Tom squeezes your side. “‘S alright. You’re my best mate’s girl. ‘Least I can do.” He pauses, apparently oblivious to the sour expression you pull in response to those words. “Plus, you looked after me last night, so… I kinda owe you.”

Deciding to just accept it, you hum in agreement. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

He’s very warm and his cologne smells like a forest breeze. You enjoy strolling across campus with him, especially when he kisses your temple as you separate at his car. It’s a battered old thing, and you’ve been in it a few times before. You’re fairly sure that Haz owns it too, but the way Tom settles into the driver’s seat and keys the ignition makes him look like the proper owner. Tom commands any space he inhabits with poise and elegance.

“You’re out near Sarah, aren’t you?” Tom asks as he jerkily reverses from his parking space.

“Yeah.”

“Nice area,” he comments, which makes you laugh. Tom glances at you, raising a brow. “What?”

“Small talk?”

“Mmm. Well, is there anything else you’d like to talk about, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Fuck, you can’t handle the way that sounds dripping from his lips.

“Nope.” You stretch your hands out in front of you, yawning. “Too hungover to think.”

“Fair enough.” Tom drums his fingers over the wheel, and you find yourself watching the lines of his slender digits. He has very pretty hands. “Good party though, eh?”

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

Tom releases a noise of reluctant agreement. “It was alright. Not the most successful night for me.” He risks a brief glance at you, chuckling. “Isn’t really the best look to get escorted to bed.” You aren’t sure if you should feel guilty for that, but Tom’s quick to add, “not that I don’t appreciate it. I do. I just shouldn’t have been so eager.”

“Why were you?” you ask. “It seemed like you were trying really hard to get drunk. Did something happen?”

Tom cackles, the sound so loud and quivering so precisely that it makes you jump. “God, if you only knew…”

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

You’re intrigued now. “What?” you press, reaching across the console to pat his thigh. You’re over halfway back to yours now, and like a bloodhound, you want to know answers. “Was it a girl? I’ve not seen you with anyone since… Well, ever.” You furrow your brows. “Did someone reject you?”

Tom’s face clouds over immediately, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat as you watch his jaw set into a hard line.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snaps, his easy demeanour gone.

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

Tom cards a frustrated hand through his hair, his eyes glinting dark. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I was not rejected.” The way his voice quivers makes it sound like a lie.

You pull a face as you cross your arms over your chest, your hangover exacerbating your rapidly falling mood.

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

He sucks in a fast breath. “Yep,” he replies, speaking through tight lips.

Something has changed. It’s as if you’ve crossed an invisible boundary that you hadn’t seen, tripped a trick wire only visible to him. The air between you is thick, and Tom doesn’t say another word until he’s turned down your street and pulled into a space outside your house.

“Well… Thanks, I guess,” you mutter. You reach into the footwell and pull up your bag, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn back to face him. For a few moments you bounce between jumping out of the car or staying, but you hate leaving things tense like this. Not with him. “Are we… good?”

Tom turns off the engine. For a moment he stares at his hands on the steering wheel, but then he brings his gaze up to you. His eyes are sad and raw, and it makes your heart hurt.

“We’re fine, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. “Sorry. It’s the, uh… The hangover. Makin’ me act like a twat. I’m sorry.”

You release a sigh of relief. “It’s okay, Tom.” A light chuckle slips by your lips. “I was worried I pissed you off for a moment there.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You? Never, darling.” He drums his hands over his thighs, and you remember the circumstances.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” you say. You hasten to undo your seatbelt and reach towards the car door, only to pause when Tom reaches out suddenly to touch your arm. “Yeah?”

“I, uh…” Tom’s close, leaning over the console. Your eyes drift over the freckles of his face, and you get distracted by how warm his brown orbs are, like glinting pools of honey. “I really am sorry,” he adds. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “It’s fine.” You glance down to where he’s softly caressing your arm, his eyes fixed firmly on your skin. His hand feels nice. Soothing. He soothes you. He always does. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

You don’t quite believe him, but you’re willing to accept that the hangover has knocked him.

“Well, thank you,” you say. You turn back to face him. “For the lift. And the nuts.”

Tom finally smiles again, and the sight makes your heart soar. “No worries, babe,” he says. He winks. “Any time.”

You lean over the console and kiss his cheek, your mouth hitting a spot of skin closer to his lips than the side of his face. If Tom notices how flustered it makes you, he doesn’t say a thing. You’re still shaking as you pull your bag over your back and hobble from the car, shouting back a tight, “bye!”

Tom raises his hand through the open window and winks again as he pulls away from the curb, leaving your body throbbing persistently and your heart more confused than it’s ever been.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks pass. You don’t see Harrison much, but Tom continues to come to class. Life goes on, nothing unchanged, and finals come and go with ease. Before you know it, it’s the final mixer of the semester.

Harrison’s going to miss it. He tells you as much when you turn up at the frat two hours before kickoff to find him stuffing shirts into a bag. He looks guilty as you walk into his room, question written all over your face.

“You remember Rory, yeah? From UPenn? He invited me to their party. Apparently, they’ve got Travis Scott. It’s gonna be lit, so… I’m going.”

“Overnight?” you ask, looking at his heavy bag. Harrison nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Sorry… I probably should’ve told you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah.” You glance down at your hands and swallow the irritation that festers in your chest. Harrison has never been great at communication. Throughout the duration of your arrangement—whether you’re just dating, or just hooking up—he’s kept his cards close to his chest. He confuses you.

When you’d first spent the night with him, Harrison had acted like he’d wanted something more with you. You’d been on a few dates, he’d brought your flowers, the works. But with time, it’s as if he’s tired of you. The spark has slipped away, and if he wasn’t on his way across state, you’d sit him down and have a discussion about the direction of your entanglement. But he is, and you have no time, so you display your irritation by crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. He finishes zipping up his bag and throws it over his shoulders before stepping towards you. With warm hands, he cups your cheeks and brings you in for a deep, passionate kiss. “You can always come if you want.”

You grimace as you shake your head. “I told Tom I’d help him here,” you say. “It’s fine. Just… Have fun, alright?”

A shadow of jealousy briefly flitters across Harrison’s face, but it’s quick to smooth away when he clears his throat. “‘Course,” he says. He takes your hand and leads you from his room. “What are you guys doing?”

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

“Oh. Just hanging up banners, and stuff. He wanted me to help him with the drinks too.”

“Nice.”

The air between you is stale, and you’re glad when Harrison pulls you down the corridor and pauses outside Tom’s room. There’s loud music coming from the room, so Harrison has to rap loudly several times, an act that makes you cringe.

“Come in!” yells Tom. Harrison does just that, pulling you in after him with a firm grip. “Oh, hey guys?”

You instantly wrench your hand from Harrison’s, not wanting him to feel your palm grow hot as your eyes fall onto Tom. You’ve caught him mid-workout, perched on the edge of his bed, shirtless and doing curls with a hand weight. There’s a healthy red flush to his face, and his bicep bulges as he flexes with the weight. All across his chest are lines of thick muscle, and you find yourself staring.

“Hey, dude,” Harrison says. “I’m just on my way out.” He turns to look at you, an easy smile on his face. “Y/N told me you guys have plans tonight, so… I guess, I’m just wondering. Can you keep an eye on her? Look after my girl, y’know?” He pauses to chew on his lip, guilt at leaving reflected in his eyes. “Make sure she’s okay, ‘n all that.”

Tom stands from the bed, tossing the weight onto the mattress with ease before approaching you, smirking. “‘Course, Haz.” He wraps a very hot, slightly sweaty arm around you and pulls you into his side. “I’ll take care of her.” Tom glances at you, shrugging softly. “Take care of you,” he adds.

You don’t know what kind of dangers you might face tonight that warrant a personal guard, but you don’t think you mind it if your attendant is Tom. He’s hot and sweaty and he smells of man, but you burn for him.

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

Harrison looks between you both, then shrugs. “Great.” He steps forward and briefly touches his lips to you. Tom freezes, holding you tighter in his arms the moment Harrison kisses you, and that action makes you feel perplexed. “Have a good time, guys.”

“You too, Haz,” Tom responds. You echo similar sentiments.

When the door closes behind Harrison, Tom doesn’t move. He simply holds you tighter, then drops his mouth down and presses a light kiss to the base of your neck. Your choked whimper travels into the air, and you flush as he steps away.

“We will have fun tonight, won’t we, Y/N?” he teases. His eyes are dark as they briefly skitter across your figure. After a moment, Tom walks across the room and picks up a towel and a fresh set of clothes. Tom pauses in front of you, tilting his head as he looks at you. He has to know how frazzled he makes you feel. He’s got to.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice high. “A lot of fun.”

“Mmm. Hope so.” Tom steps forward and cups your cheek in his hot palm, kissing your forehead before stepping back. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself comfortable, yeah? What’s mine is yours.”

A full-body shiver travels down your spine, but luckily it isn’t until he’s turned on his heel and strode over to the door.

“Have fun,” you call out. Tom turns back to wink, then disappears in a flash.

As the door closes behind him, you wonder if you really lost your spark for Harrison, or if the feelings you had for him just paled in comparison to the ones you harbour for his best friend.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party picks up quickly. You split off from Tom a few hours in, being pulled away by one of your friends and staying with them for a while. You start to miss him, though, so you excuse yourself from a game of beer pong out on the patio and walk back into the large frat house, cringing slightly as you hear the loud music. You haven’t been drinking much tonight. Something tells you that you’ll need your sober brain.

It takes you a while to find Tom, the house busy and wild. He’s not in the kitchen, nor the hallway. Your adventures take you to the large living room, where they have the music and the drinks set up. As you wander inside, your eyes take a moment to acclimate to the dim lighting. When they settle, you see him, and the breath leaves your lungs.

Tom is standing in the middle of the dancefloor, talking with a girl. She’s draped in his arms, the tips of her fingers running through his hair as she chats to him. Tom is looking at her intently, paying rapt attention to what she’s saying, but the smile on his face doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes. When he spots you, his brows briefly raise, only for them to lower again as he smirks. He winks at you, then reaches for the girl, bringing her in closer and dropping his mouth so he can start to kiss her neck.

Jealousy consumes you. It burns through every other rational thought that you have. The sight of the girl wrapping herself around him as Tom kisses up her neck makes your fingers curl into fists at your sides, and you start to walk across the room before you can comprehend it. Tom sees you, continuing to make flirtatious eye contact with you as he deposits light, wet kisses to the girl’s shoulder. It feels targeted and provocative, and whatever game that he’s playing seems to work.

“Tom!” you call out when you’re just a few centimetres away. He leisurely pulls away from the girl, dark eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks up at you.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You grimace. Now you’re over here, on the receiving end of stares from Tom and his companion, you wonder why you’d responded so immediately and directly.

“You need to come with me. We have, uh… Things to do.”

Tom raises an eyebrow, stepping away from the girl as he crosses his biceps over his chest. He’s wearing his golden chain, the one that always drives you mad, and he looks so fucking handsome under the UV lights.

“And what would those things be, Y/N?” he asks. The girl at his side is looking between you both.

“You know,” you hiss.

The girl frowns, then huffs out a sigh and pushes at Tom’s arm. “Can we go upstairs?” she asks him. Tom glances at her, chewing his lower lip as he finds himself on the receiving end of her fluttering lashes.

“No, Jess,” he says, evening out the rejection with a soft smile. “I’m sorry. Have a good evening.” Before she can respond, Tom reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you with ease towards one of the corners of the room. You squeal as he tugs you, easily falling into his side and enjoying the press of his warm arm to yours. He drops his voice, pausing only when you’re on the edge of the dancefloor to spin you and press his hands to your waist. “Are you alright, darling?” he asks, smirking. “Looks to me like someone was a little jealous.”

Your body heats up, and you find yourself nibbling at your lower lip as you try to make sense of the situation. “Nope,” you lie. With ease, you reach up and rest your hands on Tom’s broad shoulders. “I was just… Thinking about the night we met. You said we could dance then, but we never did.” You tilt your head to the side, throwing out a convincing smile. “Do you want to change that?”

Tom growls, tugging you closer as he wraps his arms around you. The tips of his teeth brush up against the shell of your ear and you whimper as his hot breath fans out over the side of your face. “Fuck yeah, babe,” he murmurs.

You settle into it easily. Tom ends up pulling you so your back rests flush against his front, his arms skating around to hold your waist as you grind back against him. It’s close and hot, and it doesn’t take long for him to put his lips back where they belong—on your neck, kissing deeply. Everything that he does feels calculated and purposeful, but it’s only when he brings his kisses near your ear and whispers a low, “you’re so fucking hot, baby,” that you come back to earth.

“We… Shouldn’t,” you whimper. Tom kisses your lobe in response. “Harrison.”

“What about him?” he mutters. His voice is raspy and seductive, and the way he strokes his hands over your sides makes your eyes roll back. “He doesn’t care about you like I do, Y/N. You know he doesn’t.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the way Tom sucks deep bruises to the sensitive spot on your neck. Harrison had never been able to find it, had never even tried.

“He cares about me,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Yeah. But not enough.” Tom spins you in his arms, reaching up to cup your cheek in a hand. He peers at you, eyes wide and insistent. “He lies to you. Did he ever tell you about the night that you met?”

You quirk a brow. “No.”

A shadow of hesitation passes over Tom’s face, but he swallows it down. “He only came up to you as part of a… a fucking bet. That’s the only reason I didn’t come back to you that night.” He strokes his fingers over your cheekbone, soothing you when you frown. “You’re the prettiest fucking woman I’ve ever met in my life, and it’s been killing me to see you both together.”

You press your forehead to his, feeling his breath come out in hot pants over your face. “Do you like me, Tom?”

He chuckles. “You have no idea how much, babe.” Tom shifts his hands back to your hair and he cradles your face. “I’d be so good to you. I swear.” He’s speaking earnestly, his voice breaking softly as he looks at you. “I love Haz. He’s my best mate. But we all know that you’re not a good fit. He left you here tonight. He doesn’t satisfy you.” Tom drops his voice, tilting his head to the side as his voice drops lower. He brings his lips closer, kissing the side of your mouth as you shiver. “I could satisfy you properly.”

You release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. For a moment you stare at Tom, eyes swirling down to his lips, then, as if entranced, you reach down and pull your phone from your bra. Using one hand on the screen, you reach up to cup Tom’s face with the other, smiling softly when he instinctively tilts his lips and kisses the palm of your hand. You write out a short message, the guilt in your heart fading when you briefly check Harrison’s Instagram story and see him surrounded by a sea of girls at the party he hadn’t invited you to.

After sending the message, you tilt the screen towards Tom’s face, watching his skin glow white as he slowly reads the few words.

You: Haz, I’m sorry to do this over text, but it’s over. I think we both know that we’re better as friends.

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip and slowly tuck your phone back against your chest. “It’s over.”

Tom kisses you immediately, both of his hands anchoring your cheeks. You could almost cry with how good it feels to have his mouth touching yours again. He parts his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan as you wrap your arms around his neck. As he holds you tightly, his hands slip down to hold your waist, and though your teeth and noses collide and clash, you don’t care. It’s beautifully imperfect, and it’s so hot that it makes your whole body throb. Tom’s curls give you the perfect leverage to jerk him closer, and as you make out mercilessly on the edge of the dance floor, you feel a piece of you slot into place.

“Come upstairs with me,” he groans, voice thick as he speaks against your lips. Your mouth is wet with spit, but you don’t bother to wipe it clean when you pull back. Tom’s eyes glint with hunger, and he grabs at your hand when you nod.

The journey upstairs is fast and easy, full of your giggles as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. The moment you’re in his room, Tom pushes you back against the door and flicks the lock, attaching his lips to your neck with ease.

“Tom,” you whine, running your hands all over his back as he sucks harshly against your skin.  

His hands skim lower and you curve your spine away from the door so he can grab handfuls of your ass, your moan mixing with his grunt when he pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again. It’s as if he’s ravenous—unable to pick between your lips and your neck, your hips and your ass. Tom changes his position every few seconds, and the irregularity fills you with excitement.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans. Tom pulls back breathlessly, looking straight into your eyes. “Can I… Are you okay with this?” he clarifies, holding your gaze firmly until you nod.

“I’m more than okay with this,” you say.

“Good, good... Pretty baby.” Tom runs his index finger down your face, his knees bending as he slowly sinks down in front of you. He scatters two light kisses to each of your breasts before travelling down your navel, only stopping when he’s fully on his knees, gazing up at you from beneath his lashes. “Darling?”

“Hmm?” You’re light-headed but aroused, your dress feeling tight as you shuffle against the door.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat, and the first time you try to speak, only a moan comes out. Tom smirks, fingers easily pushing up the hem of your dress. As his fingertips stroke up your thighs to rest on your waistband, he pauses, tilting his head to the side in question. “Yeah,” you manage, voice a whisper. “I want that so badly.”

“Mmm, should’ve just said, darling.” Tom’s head dips, disappearing between your legs. You whimper as he rubs the front of two fingers down the front of your panties, the material wet and warm. “God…” He unhooks them easily and tugs them down your legs, pausing to allow you to kick them off. When he repositions, he holds your thighs further apart and presses a kiss to your soft flesh. “You’re fucking soaked, lovie.” His hot breath fans across your centre. “Pretty cunt’s just waiting for me, isn’t it?”

His cockiness turns you on, and you’ve barely gotten out a garbled moan before he’s delving in. Tom’s skilful tongue runs up your slit, light at first, gradually leading you into it. You cry out as he finds your clit, sucking softly around the bud before lapping his tip across it gently. You have to reach out and grab ahold of the nearby bookshelf as arcs of pleasure spread out from your centre, small whimpers and moans being pulled from your mouth as Tom continues his assault.

“Tastes like paradise,” he whines, speaking against your cunt. “So sweet, baby. I understand why Haz likes being with you so much.” Tom pauses, drawing a few more strokes across your clit as you whimper. “Mine now,” he murmurs, deep voice vibrating across your centre. “My pussy.”

“Tom,” you moan, legs shaking. He responds by bringing his right hand up, slowly curving two of his digits into your heat. As he starts to thrust his fingers, the sounds of your wet arousal fill the air, making you moan louder. “Feels so good,” you encourage, realising he works harder when you speak to him. The top of his curls brushes against your legs as his tongue continues to glide over your clit, merciless and pleasurable.

“You sound so pretty, love,” Tom says, pulling away slightly. The vibrations from the noise make you moan louder, and you glance down to see him staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust and his chin covered in your juices. He looks back between your legs, readjusting his fingers and curving them at different angles before he strikes gold. When you call out his name, his other hand goes up to your hips, holding you back against the door as he smirks. “I want you to cum for me, darling,” he coos. “Let me make you feel good. I want to hear those pretty little moans. Be loud for me.”

You don’t take much convincing, as once Tom’s got his mouth back on your clit, you’re arching your back as you fall over the edge. He laps your bud with his hot, firm tongue, his fingers continuing to stroke at your walls until you spasm into climax, reaching out to grab his hair as you moan and writhe against the door. He holds you up, even when you feel like falling, and it has to be the most intensely pleasurable orgasm that you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Fuck,” you pant, only able to calm down when Tom pulls back. He sits on his shins, smacking his lips as he looks up at you, smirking. You’ve still got a hand on his head, so you fiddle with his hair as you recover. “That was so good.” A breathless smile finds your face. “So good. Thank you.”

“No problem, darling.” Tom clambers to his feet, and your eyes find themselves drawn to the bulge in his jeans. “Knew I could make you cum,” he says, speaking almost to himself. “Looked like an angel. Taste like one too.”

You swallow a moan and step forward, hands twisting behind your back to release your zipper. Tom’s eyes widen as you push down your dress, stepping out of it with ease.

“We’re not done yet, are we?” you ask, biting your lip as you look over to the bed. Tom shakes his head and offers you a hand after you’ve pulled your phone from your bra and placed it down on his desk.

“No way,” he agrees. Tom pushes you down onto the mattress but stays standing at the edge, nimble hands quickly releasing his belt and pulling off his jeans, then his shirt. You admire his Calvin Klein boxers, black with a white band skimming across the top, and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Fuck,” he adds. His eyes skim your figure, appreciation held in his gaze. “I can’t believe I’ve got you here.” He gets on the bed, pushing you down and climbing on top of you as he kisses his way up to your mouth. When he’s hovering above your face, he cups your cheeks. “Most beautiful girl in the whole world, love. Girl of my dreams.”

You kiss him, your hands finally able to learn the curves of his muscular back. Tom grinds down into you, his covered crotch meeting your bare pussy, and the friction to your clit makes you moan into the kiss. As you admire his form, you settle into his lips, your heart beating faster and more persistently against your ribcage.

“Tom,” you say, speaking against his mouth. He pulls back, lips red and puffy. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?”

Tom bites his lip, continuing to roll his hips down against yours. When you start to grind up to meet him, an expression of enjoyment darkens his face. “Thanks, love.”

You lick your lips as you wrap your arms around him, holding him closer as he continues to grind into you. “Every time I’d see you out doing weights or walking around shirtless, it’d turn me on,” you admit. You snake a hand between your bodies, managing to press your palm up and against the outline of his cock. Tom groans loudly, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and whining as he ruts against the pressure. “I want to feel you,” you whimper. “Properly. I want to feel how good it is to have you inside me... I can feel you. I know you’re big.” You bite your lip. “I’ve thought about it for weeks.”

Tom forces his face away from your neck and meets your eyes, his pupils completely dilated. “You are going to be the death of me, lovie,” he says seriously, drawing a chuckle from your lips. Tom leans up and kisses you, softer, but only for a moment. He reaches across his bed and rummages through his bedside table, procuring a condom a second later.

“Let me do it,” you offer. Tom nods, and you swap positions with ease. Tom settles on the mattress, raising his hips and watching as you tug his boxers down his legs. You feel yourself salivate slightly as you take sight of his cock, erect and flushed, pressing up against his lower stomach. Holding the open condom in one hand, you run your thumb over his tip with the other, gathering beads of his silver precum on your fingertip. You meet Tom’s eyes and sit back on his thighs as you push your finger into your mouth, exaggerating your moan as you lick it clean.

Tom tosses his head back, his hair fluffing up against the pillows. His cock twitches against his stomach. “Fuck, baby… You’re driving me crazy.” When you reach back and roll the condom over his length, he can barely keep still, rutting up and filling your hand the moment you’re done. “You know… every time you stayed the night with Haz, I could hear you guys,” he says, looking at you through hooded eyes. You give him a few pumps, biting your lip as you admire his member and try to imagine how good it’ll feel filling you to the brim. “Used to get off listening to your moans. Imagining it was me fucking you. Thinking… Thinking about how good it’d be to- fuck- to open you up on my cock.”

His words make you feel hot, and you speed up the rhythm of your hand as you watch his face flush with heat. “I know,” you admit. “I could hear you sometimes.” You lean up and press a kiss to his chest, feeling his hot skin between your lips. “You make the hottest noises, Tom.”

“For you,” he groans, jaw tensing. “It’s all for you.” He continues to rut into your hand, and you smirk as you feel him throb. As Tom grows more erratic, you feel your slick between your legs thicken and your core begin to throb.

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

Tom immediately bounces his head, eyes lighting up like you’ve spoken the only thing he’s ever wanted to hear. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—”

You bend over to kiss him, sliding up his body with ease. Tom reaches up your back, eager hands falling to a stop at your bra. He manages to unclasp it after a few attempts, grinning victoriously against your lips as it falls slack. Once you’ve thrown it aside, you sit back, watching as Tom’s hand goes down to guide his cock through your slit. One of his hands rests on your hip, palm hot and heavy, and he gives you a short squeeze as he presses his tip against your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, moaning loudly as his girth stretches your cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you adjust, breath hitching when Tom adds his thumb to your clit, the pleasure easing the stretch. When you’re completely seated, you find yourself shifting, Tom groaning when you clench and slowly start to ride him.

“Oh my god,” he moans. “Feels like heaven, darling. Actual heaven.” His jaw is tense as he tosses his head back, prying open an eye to watch as you bounce over him, moving faster as you find your rhythm. “So wet, sweetheart. So tight… So much better than I’d ever imagined.” He’s looking at you with pleasure screwed across his face, and the sight of him so desperate makes you feel powerful.

“Tom,” you whimper. “I can feel you so deep.” You’re starting to unravel, feeling him everywhere. With the thumb still rolling over your clit, his hand weighing down your hip, and the tip of his cock brushing deeper each time you come together, you can feel yourself on the verge already. “Can you… I can’t…”

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

It happens easily, without Tom falling from you. A moment later, you’re resting over the warm mattress, wrapping your legs around Tom’s back and pulling him closer as he rails you into the bed. He’s faster than you’d been, and the new angle opens you up deeper, allowing his tip to press more pronouncedly against your g-spot. His chain dangles against your neck, the cool metal scorching against your flushed skin.

“Oh god,” Tom groans. The sounds of your bodies meeting as he roughly thrusts into you, again and again, fill the air. “You’re so perfect. Feels so good.” His eyes are dark as they meet with yours, swirling with unrestrained lust. “So wet, lovie. D’you like it when I fuck you? Yeah? Pussy’s squeezing me so tight. My pussy, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, liking how it sounds.

Tom grunts and drills into you faster. With each rotation of his hips against yours, his thick head reaches further, dragging across your g-spot with ease and causing sparks to race up your spine. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and you clutch at his torso for purchase as you scramble to stay grounded. When you add a hand to your clit, you feel your cunt clench, squeezing his length and making him groan again.

‘I’m not gonna last, love. Shit. Feels too fucking good,” he whimpers.

You bring his lips back to yours, meeting them clumsily as you moan. Your skin is hot and sweaty, being smothered by the heat of his body bearing down on you. You wind your free hand into his hair. “It’s okay,” you get out, voice catching. “I’m so close, Tom. Fuck. Make me cum. Please.”

You ride the edge for a few moments more before Tom cries out, calling your name in a voice so exerted and broken that it pushes you over the edge too. As his cock pulses against your walls and his groans fall like music to your ears, you let everything go, basking in the pleasure that crashes over your figure in thick, consuming waves. Tom’s hands are slick as they grasp at your sides, but he’s holding you tightly in place and you like it.

When the air finally clears, Tom pulls out, collapsing onto the mattress beside you with a loud groan. You flip onto your side, quivering as your core pangs with pleasurable aftershocks, your tired eyes drifting up to meet his. He reaches out, sweaty palm drifting to your face as he cups your cheek and smiles at you.

“Well,” he starts, voice low. He pulls you closer, and you carefully curl yourself into his arms. Tom nuzzles his lips against your forehead and leaves three light kisses to your skin. “That was a heavenly experience.”

You snort, burying your face in his chest and feeling the cool metal of his chain press to your skin. “Heavenly?”

“Mhmm. Because you’re an angel. My angel.”

You smile into his front. “What a charmer,” you say.

Tom combs some fingers over your hair and softly coaxes you away from his chest. Both of you share a pillow, his deep brown eyes feel of inquisition as he looks at you.

“Darling,” he mumbles, speaking slowly, almost nervous. “I like you a lot. And… And I know the circumstances are messy and complicated, but… I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I want this to be an every time thing. I want you to be my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah. My girlfriend.” Tom’s handsome eyes flutter over your face. “What do you say?”

You trace your index finger around the sculpted lines of his face, smiling softly as his lips pull into a grin. You think about how your life has changed since the first night you met him, and how your heart has slowly learnt to gravitate towards him. Tom’s right—it is messy, and maybe your union is complicated and a little wrong too, but it feels good. Him kissing your forehead and pulling you closer feels good. He feels good.

“Yeah,” you agree, speaking slowly. “I would really like that.”

Tom’s face splits into a smile, and he pushes in to kiss you. “Good,” he murmurs. “‘Cos I’m gonna woo you every single day of your life. I’ll bring you tea every morning, tuck you in at night. Make you moan louder than you’ve ever moaned in your life—”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already won me over, Tom, you can calm down—”

“Nope.” Tom’s grinning widely as he continues to peck your lips, unable to keep his hands off you. “I’ll keep charming you until I’ve won your heart, babe. This is just how it’s got to be.”

You kiss him, not knowing how to tell him that he’s already had your heart, firmly in the palm of his hand, since the very first night you met.

“Well,” you respond, voice quiet in the air. “I quite like the sound of that.”

Tom nuzzles his nose against you, lips brushing yours. “Yeah?”

You hum affirmatively and reach up to bury your hands back into his hair. “Yeah.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:D let me know what you think please !!! I would love to know if you have a favourite scene...?! I am torn between y/n putting tom to bed + the lecture theatre...lmk (if you want !!)

mlist + taglist are through the link in my bio <3 

thank you for reading!! <3<3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #frat!tom #frat!tom holland #frat!tomfic #smut #alternate summary for this is: tom has a raging b*ner for 16k straight

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Boys of Summer - Part II

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, Josh Kiszka x f!reader

Summary: It’s the summer of 1986 and you find yourself starting your first job on your own. You were drawn to the beaches of Ocean City in search of a new start, expecting to fill the days enjoying whatever the coastal town had to offer. You find yourself thrown into a world you couldn’t have anticipated and the memories made were sure to last a lifetime. 

Word count: 8k

A/N: This is it, guys!  I’m finally pulling it together for this. I had endless support and help to create this project. It wouldn’t exist without these girls @josiee-gvf @allieboop. I give so much credit to you @allieboop for helping me with this. Everything from the title idea, putting together the header, and helping with plot ideas. She’s a true gem ❤️ 

Hope you guys enjoy it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated. I seriously love to hear your thoughts on these things!! I’m so excited to continue working on this!

**Everything written here is intended to be read as complete fiction with the utmost respect for the real people these characters may be based on. I do not know the guys personally and don’t intend for this to reflect on them as real people in any way.

Warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, some smoochin’, a bit of angst, slight mention of blood

Boys of Summer - Part 1 / playlist

***Before you read this - I would recommend reading the edited/revised updated version here, instead**

The coastal air blowing through the Pinto’s open windows whipped through your hair and filled your lungs with its sweet, salty nostalgic feeling as you drove over the bridge back onto the mainland, leaving the mile-long stretch of Ocean City behind you for the rest of the evening. It served as the perfect reset for your soul after what you had endured throughout the last few hours of the day. 

Your ever-growing collection of cassette tapes piled onto your passenger seat gave you the chance to distract yourself, popping in and rotating through your favorites as you made your short drive back to your new place.

It was modest given your tight budget, but you were thankful you found your wonderful roommate, Cindy. You had only arrived here less than a week ago with your small hatchback bursting beyond capacity with the majority of your belongings.

When you were away from the crowded city that was usually packed with tourists, the area around here was peaceful and serene. The coastal farmland remained relatively quiet and untouched through the season. You turned the Pinto off the back road and onto a gravel drive leading to your house. 

The tiny bungalow you shared with her was tucked away close to the shoreline, only about a quarter-mile out from the bay. The thick covering of trees created a level of privacy but still allowed you to peek out and see the view of the water.

The very faded canary-yellow paint of the house had begun to chip away over the years. It had been paired with the cornflower-blue shutters that framed the few windows, giving the home a certain charm that you didn’t find back in the suburbs of your hometown. You immediately fell in love the moment you laid your eyes on it as if everything for you had aligned perfectly.

With the help of other roommates throughout the last few years, Cindy had done a decent job at keeping up with the maintenance of the property. Although the stained white railing that lined the small front porch needed a thorough scrubbing, she had added her little touches by scattering a few flower pots that contained blooming marigolds in a variety of colors. An American flag was fastened to the banister, flapping away with the warm breeze rolling off the bay.

You quickly realized you were alone when you didn’t spot Cindy’s car in its usual spot in the driveway. When you cut the engine, you found that the emotional and mental fatigue of the afternoon had started to set in your muscles, making you wince from pain as you crawled out of your car. At this point, you only wanted to shower and crawl right into bed and forget about everything that had happened. 

It was upsetting that you allowed someone to speak to you the way that Jake had. A part of you just wanted to believe that he was simply a horrible person and that you should never give him a second thought from here on out. Another part of you felt like there was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart think otherwise. How could he be so different from Josh? 

The sudden shift in thought to Josh made your stomach flip into knots with uneasiness. That was another thing about your day you could have never anticipated. How were you supposed to move forward working together with him? Was the invitation to the bonfire tonight like a date or just an extension of his overwhelming friendliness to you? One thing was for certain-you wanted to avoid the chance of humiliating yourself for a third time today.

It was like the small piece of scrap paper with Josh’s number was beginning to burn a hole into you while it was haphazardly stuffed inside the small green fanny pack. You stood in the kitchen and replayed the interactions you had with him over and over in your mind while you poured yourself a glass of sweet tea from the fridge. You attempted to decompress, but you felt the anxiousness bubble up in your stomach knowing if you blew him off tonight he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it tomorrow. If you went instead, you would possibly run into Jake and relive everything that went horribly wrong today. Right now you felt like a timid dog with its tail tucked shamefully between your legs when it came to dealing with him. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been pacing aimlessly within the confines of the tiny kitchen when you heard the familiar crunching of a vehicle’s tires rolling over the gravel outside. You peeked out the window to see Cindy making her way into the house with two large brown paper bags in her arms. 

“Hey!” She chimed in her usual cheerful voice while coming through the front entrance, kicking the door closed behind her with her foot. 

“Hey!” You tried to match her upbeat tone with your greeting. “What’s in the bags?” You tipped your chin to gesture at the bags as she sat them down on the green Formica countertop.

“I stopped by that one produce stand on the way home. I couldn’t believe you’ve never tried the corn here. So I just had to get some.” She pulled out several ears of corn that were still covered in their husks. “Have any plans tonight?”

For a moment you considered sharing Josh’s invitation, and because you were still undecided about it, you realized she was the kind of friend that would drag you out of the house from the idea of having a night out. 

“I don’t think so. I’ll probably just go to bed early. It’s been a pretty rough day.”

“Oh my god!” Cindy gasped and threw her palm over her open mouth. “I totally forgot it was your first day! What happened?”

“Honestly, It started off fine but one of the bartenders was really rude to me all day for some reason,” you explained, stacking the ears of corn on themselves as she pulled them out of the bag. 

“Who?”

“I forgot you told me you know everybody around here,” you chuckled at the thought. 

“That and I go to Queen’s Anchor a lot. I probably know who you’re talking about.”

You hesitated giving up the information but her wiggling her brows up in anticipation of your answer made you finally give in, “Jake.”

She stopped pulling the fresh produce out of the bag, halting all movements  to look right at you, “Jake Kiszka?”

“That’s the one,” you shrugged, but still noting her strange reaction to the name.

She paused in silence for a few seconds, pulling her dark brows in a confused expression, “and he was rude to you?”

“Yeah, like exceptionally,” you physically cringed at those encounters that were playing in your mind.

“That’s very weird considering he practically flirts with every woman on the planet,” Cindy snorted loudly. After emptying them, She folded up the paper bags and tucked them underneath the sink cabinet.

“Oh, don’t worry. I got to see that, too. In real time,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes to fully express the day’s frustration to her. “I guess there’s something about me that’s incredibly off-putting,” you sighed, shrugging once more out of defeat,

“Hey, It’s not your fault he’s a total idiot. Maybe you can do him a favor and try and pull that stick out of his ass.”

“I’m sure he’d tell me I was doing it wrong,” 

“What’s this?”

“The guy I trained with today gave me his number,” you added while pulling the piece of paper out of the pack on your hip, hoping to shift the topic from Jake, “invited me out to a bonfire tonight”

“You should go! It would be great for you to get out of here for the night. Summer only lasts so long.” She wasn’t necessarily wrong for saying it and deep down you agreed with her.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m not sure if I should though.”

“Wait, who’s the guy you trained with?”

“Josh.”

“Kiszka?!”

You were taken aback by her sudden outburst, “Is there something wrong?”

“No! no, I mean you should totally still go tonight…”

“Cindy-“

“It’s really nothing. Just-“  she did that same awkward pause when she heard about Jake, only now she was looking away and picking at her nails. She brushed her fingers through her teased bangs while huffing out a sigh, “Be careful with him“

“How come?”

“Uhh… It’s just that he’s a bit of a flirt as well. I don’t want you to get your hopes up-“

You quickly interjected, “No, no. I think it's just a friend thing. I don’t think he’s interested in me like that anyway.”

Her words didn’t surprise you given how Josh seemed to be based on your short time spent together today. He was undoubtedly charming, and to most people, flirtatious. Although he didn’t seem the type to play women, you could never be too sure either.

Her brows were still drawn together in a look of worry as she attempted to gauge your reaction. “Are you sure?”

“Cindy, I’ve only just met him hours ago.”

She shifted into her usual relaxed, cheerful demeanor-maybe to backpedal the whole exchange in fear that she might have upset you. “He is cute… I was just curious.”

“I’m not sure if I should even go now,” you mumbled quietly, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. 

“No, you should go! I didn’t mean to freak you out. If it's really a friend thing it's not a big deal, right?” She handed the piece of paper that was sitting on the counter back to you, “Seriously, give him a call.”

“I dont know-“

“Give him a call or I’m going to drag you there myself.”

Over the course of an hour, Cindy had gossiped about her own job with you, falling back into the familiar banter you have grown to enjoy through the past week of getting to know her. You still felt like she was hiding something about Josh that she still wasn’t sure about sharing with you. Sensing your apprehension, she insisted a few more times that everything was fine and she had overreacted.

After dealing with her nagging, you eventually got the courage to make the call to Josh, careful in dialing the numbers as you pushed the plastic buttons, slow and precise to ensure you didn’t make a single error. Holding it up to your ear, you heard it ring and ring. By the fourth ring, someone had finally picked up the call. 

A raspy voice answered, “Hello?”

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating just hanging the phone up altogether, “Hey, Josh?”

“Yeah? Who’s this?” So he didn’t recognize you over the phone by voice alone.

“It’s y/n”

“Who?” Great. He had already forgotten your name as well.

You let out a deep frustrated sigh and gave in to using his ridiculous nickname, “It’s Greenie, Josh.”

“OH! Greenie! So are you coming tonight?!” You almost had to pull the phone away from your from the sudden raise in volume of his voice.

Even though you were calling him,a part of you was still hedging your bets with everything, prepared to tell him you weren’t going to make it. That this call was courtesy to tell him not to hold out his plans for you. Maybe you wanted to know if he still would try to convince you to go,“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“Come on! You’ll have a blast. I promise.”

“I don’t know. I won’t know anybody but you.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing…”

“Josh!

“Okay, okay. It will be great, You’ll get to meet everyone. I’ll make it worth it to you, okay?”

“Okay. You promise?”

“I pinky-swear.”

“You can’t pinky-swear over the phone,”

“Just give me your fucking address, Greenie!” He laughed into the receiver.

You quickly gave him your address and he told you he would pick you up in about an hour from now. Cindy wished you luck tonight and asked you to let her know when you get home as she left to go spend the evening bar-hopping with some of her girlfriends.

Knowing Josh had already seen you in your work attire, you weren’t going to bother stressing too much about your looks or outfit. Although, you desperately needed a shower and change of clothes. It was quick, only really out of necessity of washing off the sweat and restaurant funk from your job off your body. You threw on one of your basic swimsuits and covered it with a pair of cotton shorts and a simple t-shirt over it. 

Thankfully, the recent sun exposure you had received in the last few days blessed you a more tanned glow than usual. Looking into the bathroom mirror, you applied a thin coat of mascara to your lashes and a sweep of pink blusher across your cheeks. 

You did your best not to pace anxiously around the house in anticipation knowing you had about twenty minutes to spare-if Josh happened to be here on time. You flipped on the radio and decided to clean up some dishes that were piling up in the sink and tidy up the living space to kill the extra minutes. 

A white ‘77 Jeep Wrangler pulled into the drive almost thirty minutes past the original time Josh had given you over the phone. The soft top had been pulled down, leaving you with the view of him waving frantically from the driver’s seat. He added the touch of a few impatient honks to signal his arrival. 

You quickly gathered your things, locked up the house and ran over to greet him as he idled behind the Pinto. In any other circumstance, you might have been annoyed at someone running late as he had. The way his smile beamed at you nearly made you forget the inconvenience. 

“You’re late.” You popped the door handle and crawled into the Jeep. 

While ignoring your scolding, he quipped, “We’re on beach time, baby.” He had his aviators pulled down over his eyes but was still dressed in a similar white t-shirt and shorts combination like he had earlier in the day, matching your outfit as well. 

“I’m pretty sure only retired, old people say things like that.”

“You could learn a lot from them, Greenie. Seems like they might have stuff figured out.”

When Josh took a left instead of a right turn- which would have led you both back into Ocean City- you asked,“We aren’t going back into the city?”

“No, Greenie, we would be arrested within five minutes if we had a bonfire on the beach there,” Josh chuckled.

“Oh. Where are we going then?”

“Assateague. Been there?”

“No, I don't think so.” The name seemed kind of familiar to you but it had been years since your family had brought you to this area for vacation. 

“It’s not far from here. It's just a bit south of Ocean City. The park is normally closed off for campers but my younger brother, Sam usually comes in clutch for us when he dates one of the lifeguards each summer.”

“That seems hella convenient for you guys.”

“Usually it all works out until they realize he’s dating another girl at the same time. So we take advantage when we have it.”

“Why don’t you date a lifeguard?” You teased, yet still curious and nervous of the potential answer. He only laughed again at your question so you add, “Have you?”

This made him break his view on the road to you and he flashed another one of his playful winks, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Him calling you out made you flush hot with embarrassment and you wondered to yourself why you had even asked in the first place. Would you have been jealous if he had said yes? You just decided to let his question linger in the air between you in an attempt to save some of your dignity.

Thankfully, he didn’t let you sit in the tension for too long before blurting out, with his tone more serious than you’ve heard yet, “Oh and just giving you a head’s up. And trust me on this one, Do not go up to the horses.”

“Horses?” 

“Yeah. There are wild ponies on the island. And speaking from experience-“ he paused to laugh as he shook his head while reminiscing back on a memory, “lets just say that you do not want to be drunk and decide to pet them. It did not end very well.”

“Sounds to me like you’re a dumbass,” you giggled to yourself and let the image of him being chased by a very angry horse on the beach play in your mind. 

“You have no idea.”

As much as you wanted to avoid the topic, it had continued to eat away in the back of your mind. “So what happened with you and Jake today?”

“Oh..nothing really,” Josh mumbled and you saw his body instantly tense up as if you just flipped a switch.

“Nothing?” You hated thinking that you started a feud between the twin brothers.

“Yeah, nothing that you need to worry about or stress over, Greenie.” He glanced over for a second and saw your frustrated expression. “I promise. Just try and enjoy tonight and not think about him, okay?”

You accepted and just nodded in response, staring out to watch the scenery as the sunset was casting over in its final moments of the day. Both of you continued the drive in the few minutes of silence with the radio's volume set just above a low hum until “Raspberry Beret” started playing on the station. Josh gasped and immediately turned the knob so the music was blasting out of the speakers.

The once tense atmosphere between the two of you quickly dissipated when Josh started to sing along, tapping his fingers of his left hand on the Jeep’s steering wheel. He would break away from watching the road to look at you, with that massive, goofy grin plastered across his face. Your giggles only fueled his antics more. He would take his hand off the shifter to wave it around in animated movements in unison with the little dancing in his seat while he sang along. He would even point to you in an attempt to get you to join him during the duet portion of the song. 

Through the fits of laughter you asked, “You like Prince?” 

“Be careful, I’ve been known to seduce women with “When Doves Cry””

“So I’ve been told,” you nudged his shoulder playfully with the taunt. 

“From who? Was it Kat?”

“No, Cindy, my roommate,” you corrected him, and the things Cindy mentioned before you left started to pop in the forefront of your mind again. You shook off the concern with a laugh and a side glance to him,“What’s this about Kat?”

“I plead the fifth your honor,” he lifted his right hand from the shifter once more up in the air to mimic taking the oath. 

“You would.” You teased him, shaking your head in faux disapproval. 

“What did she say about me?”

“Cindy? She told me to be careful because you liked to'' you caught yourself before you were about to admit the rest of Cindy’s warning to you. You didn’t want to dampen the evening by making Josh uncomfortable or imply that you were somehow interested in him. “You know what? Don’t worry about it.”

The sun had almost completely set as you crossed over the bridge from the mainland onto the small island. Josh pulled the Jeep off onto a hidden dirt path, tucked away from the main entrance to the campgrounds that was for the public. It didn’t take long for you to see the orange-red glow from the flames of the bonfire up over the sand dunes and the hum of drunken voices from the group of people already on the beach. 

After cutting the engine, Josh quickly hopped out and started towards the crowd, almost too eager to wait for you by the car. He looked back towards you with a shit-eating grin, “Come on, Greenie!”

“Josh, wait up!” You shouted after him and decided to kick off your shoes as soon as you hit the soft sand. His strides seemed effortless as he made his way down the dunes to greet everyone that had already arrived. You fell back behind him, holding the sandals in your hands as you closed the short distance, thankful the sand had cooled off considerably since the hot afternoon.

The initial bundle of nerves you had that made your stomach do flips when you got here started to slowly subside. Music was playing on the radio from a small boombox someone had brought along. People were gathered around the roaring fire, perched up on folding beach chairs, blankets and a collection of plastic coolers. The dull lapping of waves hitting the surf added to the scene and your racing mind started to finally ease itself. 

Josh made sure to introduce you to the group the best he could, sometimes getting distracted from being pulled into other conversations. It left you alone to fill in the interactions with strangers with the standard small talk. In reality, you were out of your comfort zone and after a while of pushing through the initial awkwardness, you ended up sitting by yourself on one of the large coolers placed around the bonfire. 

You had a feeling that this exact thing would happen, but at least Jake didn’t seem to be here yet. You didn’t feel any anger at Josh for not giving you his full attention, but more frustrated at yourself at not being able to mesh right into his inner circle of friends right away. 

You spent the time either watching the fire in front of you or how the moonlight danced across the ocean waves. You even considered for a moment to break off from the group to walk along the shore to look for shells, waiting for when Josh was ready to take you back home.   

That’s when you spotted two young men walking along the shore, holding surfboards under their arms as they approached the rest of the group. You assumed they came straight from the water, as they were still dripping with a coating of wet sand stuck to their feet and legs. 

One of the guys broke off running, dropping his board at his feet to tackle an unsuspecting Josh into the sand, sending them both tumbling over into a pile of limbs. Fits of laughter were broken up with a string of curses and grunts from the both of them as they wrestled on the beach.

The other had long, jet-black hair that started to curl as it began drying in the summer air. He was slightly taller than the first with broader shoulder muscles that flexed as he stuck the board upright into the loose, drier sand. 

He greeted a few people as they approached him, either with a friendly smack on the shoulder or bumping of their fists together. At first, watching the simple interactions from the distance warmed your heart. Although, the reality that you were alone out here, and far away from your childhood home set in more than ever. You were witnessing the closeness they had, even with the strangers around them. 

Even throughout childhood, you always struggled making close bonds with people at home or even when you were older in college. It really seemed to come second nature to the people here. It could have been due to working together through the summer seasons here, or maybe building friendships just came more naturally to them. Even with new scenery in your life now, you still felt like the odd one benched on the sidelines looking in.

“Jake’s new girl?” The male voice pulled you from your apparent daydreaming. It was the man with the dark curly hair that had come in from surfing in the ocean. 

It took you a moment for your brain to catch up to his question. He had given you a soft, warm smile while you took the time to process what he had said while he started to dry off with a towel. You caught a glimpse of Jake walking past with the same blonde he was flirting with hours beforehand at the restaurant hooked under his arm. He was dressed in a pair of light-wash worn denim jeans rolled up at the ankle, paired with another button-up shirt that was mostly opened to reveal his chest. His long hair wasn’t pulled back in the loose bun he had sported earlier, instead it was worn down with a pair of black Ray-Ban’s sat on the top of his head. 

“Oh god, no.” you scoffed loudly, shaking your head violently at the idea and his smile shifted into a confused look for only a second before it returned to the friendly expression.

“Okay, fair enough. It’s just that usually when there is a new face around here it's because of him,” he explained while draping the damp towel over the back of one of the beach chairs behind him. 

“That’s funny because I don’t think he could hate me any more than he does.” You mumbled to yourself, trying hard not to wince while you replayed the things Jake said to you earlier in the day. 

“Well, if that’s true, he’s missing out because I really can’t imagine how anyone could hate you.” 

“Maybe you should ask him,” you pointed a finger behind him, gesturing to Jake introducing the woman he had brought around the group.

“Hmm, I’d rather not. I’m enjoying talking to you way more,” he hummed softly while popping the plastic lid to dig around the cooler, grabbing two bottles from the melting ice. He offers one of them to you, “Can’t buy you a drink, so this is the best I can do for now.”

“Thanks!” 

You reach out to grab the beer but he quickly pulls it back, “Hold up.” He leans over and pops the metal cap on the lid of the cooler with a smack of his palm.

“So you’re not with Jake, but what about Josh?” 

“No, no. It’s not like that!” You protested the idea for a second time tonight. Did it really appear that you were dating?

“You sure?” He tipped his chin in the direction behind you, making you turn your head around. It was clear he was hinting to Josh, who was looking at you while he was in a conversation with someone beside him. He smiled when he saw you looking before he turned away to respond to the person next to him.

You turned around back to the man that offered you the beer, “Maybe he just has a staring problem.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“So do you flirt with every girl as soon as you meet them?” You teased, letting a smile form as you brought the glass bottle to your lips. He took the chance and decided to sit next to you on the cooler so that your knees were barely touching. 

“No, just the pretty ones,” he whispered while leaning towards you, closing the already  distance to only a few inches between you. His smoky-brown eyes, framed with dark lashes, looked right into yours. His apparent interest in you should have scared you off running in the other direction, but there was something so calming and inviting about him. The brief moment you shared was quickly interrupted when someone cut into the borderline intimate moment.

“I see you’ve met Daniel.” You both looked up to see the same man who had tackled Josh trying to catch his breath from the exertion of fighting around in the sand. He extended out an open hand to you,“I’m Sam, the youngest and clearly-  the most handsome and charming Kiszka brother.” 

Daniel cleared his throat and rolled his eyes, “Thanks, Sam.“ His expression returned to a softer one meant for you, “And just “Danny” is fine”

“Y/N,” you nodded in response, taking Sam’s hand in your own for a loose handshake. ���You’re Josh and Jake’s brother?”

“I am! How long have you known them for?” He reached and pulled the towel Danny had used and started drying off his hair that was now tangled and caked in sand. 

“Just for the day, actually. I started -“

“Hey, Daniel. Can you help me with this cooler?” Jake’s voice cut through air unexpectedly, interrupting another one of your thoughts-something he seemed to be an expert at. His tone was direct and stiff, almost as if he was upset about something Danny might have done. 

“Sure, man,” Danny glanced back at you, revealing another confused look on his face and letting a heavy sigh escape his chest as he stood up to his feet again. Jake waited for him with arms crossed over his chest while standing across the other side of the bonfire, avoiding looking at you the entire time. “I’ll be right back.”

In Danny’s short absence, Sam filled you in on small details regarding the Kiszka family. He didn’t get the chance to get far in conversation before a girl came running up from behind and pulled him into a tight, intimate hug. Based on what Josh had told you earlier, and the recognizable red bathing suit peeking out from underneath her clothes, you assumed she was one of the lifeguards that might be involved with. 

As they continued their embrace while exchanging kisses and affectionate touches with each other, it gave you the chance to see Jake and Danny walk back over the dunes with another large cooler. After dropping the heavy container in the sand, Jake made his way back over to sit next to Jenny and Danny grabbed another ice cold beer and started to join in the drunken chatter with others. To you it seemed that he was possibly ignoring you, given how he hadn’t bothered to look at you once since he came back to the group with Jake. 

You tried your best to brush off the drastic change in his demeanor as nothing to be concerned about. Overthinking tended to be one of your bad habits throughout your life, so it was possible that nothing had actually happened. You could sum it up that he was just catching up with buddies and he was only just giving you a friendly introduction before.

 Throughout different points in the night, Josh dropped in to check on you when he could break away from the others, usually with another beer in his hand reserved just for you. Through your observations, you quickly learned that many people within the group all knew each other through working the many restaurants that lined the beachfront area. It was a small community and coming here together after working their shifts like this was their sacred ritual.

 It would take a little more time spent together to feel genuinely included, but you could tell that they truly welcomed you in open arms. You still held out for him to come around again, especially after having an exchange that you would consider an interest in you, but Danny never made his way back over to talk to you again.

Thankfully, the night progressed smoothly without any other confrontations or issues, and you had done your best to stay clear out of Jake’s path. Much to your luck, he had been too preoccupied by the blonde hanging under his arm to even really notice your presence, and he definitely didn’t make a point to acknowledge you in any way. It was only when you were close enough within earshot, that you learned that her name was Jenny and that she was only here for the week on vacation. 

From a first impression standpoint, she seemed decently friendly from what you could tell given that you were never properly introduced to each other. She was young and flirty, vibrant with bubbly energy and perhaps even a bit naive to everything around her. It was clear she was simply living in the moment to have as much fun as she could, clinging onto Jake as if the experience depended on it. You had wondered if she thought Jake would call her when she finally went back home after her vacation had ended.  In hindsight, it might have been a conniving thought, but you smiled to yourself whenever she made the comment “you would love this” in reference to her life back home when talking to Jake. His responses were usually a single nod or hum at the sentiment, letting her carry on with her rambling as the hours passed by.

As the beers continued to flow through the late evening, the once high level of energy started to shift as drunken conversations slowly dragged on. 

“Is this all you guys do out here?” You asked no one in particular but it was Josh, who was laying out on a beach blanket looking up at the night sky, that answered your question.

“What do you mean?”

“I just figured there’d be like a party game or something,” you huffed out after finishing the last sip of warm beer from the bottle. 

“What, like ‘Truth or Dare’?” He chuckled as he started to prop up on his elbows, giving you a better view of his face. The image of how the flickering light from the fire cast over his tanned skin, making the apples of his cheeks glow in the orange flame, almost made you lose your thought completely. 

“I was thinking something more like beer pong-“

“Did someone say ‘Truth or Dare’?!” Sam shouted over everyone else, beaming with excitement when he caught wind of the idea. You weren’t sure how much he had to drink but it was becoming obvious that the amount was starting to catch up to him. His unbridled enthusiasm was unfortunately only met with a few groans and verbal protests to the idea.

“Sam, what are we? Ten years old?” Jake mocked with distaste and judgment, finally adding input to the group’s conversation for the first time this evening. 

“Shut up, Jake. You are never any fun,” Sam snipped, letting the last few words slur together while waving his hand to dismiss his older brother’s judgmental remarks.

With everyone eventually giving in, Sam started the game off and they went around the group with nearly everyone choosing the option “truth”, putting a significant lull in the excitement that Sam was biting for. One of the guys who was feeling brave chose the other option, and was dared to strip naked and run nude into the freezing, cold ocean. It was only to be followed by another round of “truth’s” before Sam began feeling incredibly impatient.

When you followed around the circle listening to people spill their secrets, you  caught the sight of Jenny sitting across Jake’s lap while they snuggled on the beach chair. They were both clearly unbothered and unconcerned with the game the majority of you got roped into playing. 

He was trailing his fingers across her tanned skin, studying her reaction with each stroke of his hand up and down her arm. He let them slip effortlessly under the tiny strap of her swimsuit that rested on her shoulder in an attempt to grab her undivided attention. You watched as they stared into each other's eyes, and she giggled when he tugged playfully at the thin strap, releasing it so it snapped against her when he let go. He tipped the bridge of his nose into the crook of her neck while tracing his fingertips across the area right above the hem of her top, dancing teasingly along the exposed, bare skin. 

You knew it was something you shouldn’t stare at, but you just weren’t able to avert your eyes even if you tried. You just weren’t sure why the sight of them like this elicited these uncomfortable feelings inside you. Was is Jealousy? Disgust? Were you just upset that he didn’t reveal the sensitive side that he was showing her? Or was it because you wanted to be her? The latter made you physically shudder and you scrambled to bury the thought as quickly as it entered your mind. 

It was when he broke away and looked directly at you, the darkness of his pupils boring deeply into yours before he tilted his head and bit into the soft skin of her jawline below her ear that made you realize he wanted you to see this. You just comprehend the reason behind all of it. She let out a moan, quiet enough so no one else could hear her if they weren’t paying attention. You froze, knowing that you were caught red-handed,

“Come on, guys! Someone needs to pick ‘Dare’ already! Sam’s pleas were the thing to save you from having to watch the scene before you any longer. He made eye-contact and shouted while pointing an index finger towards you, “Y/N!”

You brought up your hands in protest, “I don't think so. I’m probably going to sit this one out.”

“Pleease! It will be fun,” he clasped his hands together at his chest through his shameless begging.

“Okay, Sam. Just one.” He cheered from your final acceptance and pondered for way longer than he should have for your turn in the game. 

“I think she should kiss Josh.” Kat’s taunting voice cut through the silence, and she darted her eyes back and forth between you and Josh to gauge your reaction. You hadn’t spoken a word to her since you arrived and it was obvious that she wasn’t a fan of yours.  Her suggestion was laced with the same disapproval and judgment towards you earlier that day when you first met. It was also clear this was not said with the best of intentions as she pulled her lips into a devilish, cocky grin. 

“No, no. Greenie, you don't have to listen to them. Seriously.” Josh began to protest from her suggestion while he brought himself to a sitting position on the blanket spread out across the sand. 

“She totally should! Okay, Y/N. I dare you.” Sam teased through his slurred speech. 

“Greenie-“ Josh tried to interject one more time. 

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted, not entirely sure what motivated the decision you were about to make. This was all meant to be an embarrassment for you, but you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bailing out. 

Any inhibitions you could have had were pushed right off to the side as you stumbled quickly up from your sitting position to close the distance between Josh and yourself. Your clumsiness did not fail to come through as you suddenly caught your foot over something piled in the sand in front of him. You tumbled and fell forward faster than you had anticipated and instinctively reached out to brace yourself on his shoulders.

Thankfully, he was able to catch you in his open arms and steadied your body over his. Feeling more bold in your slightly drunken state-and without another second of hesitation, you smashed your lips harshly against his. You must have surprised him because he instantly froze underneath you, yet his hands were still wrapped around your upper arms from when you fell into him. 

Josh pulled back slightly leaving only enough space to smile against your lips and a soft giggle bounced in his throat. He slowly trailed his open hands up your arms, over the tops of your bare shoulders to finally wrap around the back of your neck. He guided you back into the kiss, making you melt effortlessly into him as his lips brushed gently across yours. The movements he made were feather-light and almost calculated, with a calm steadiness to test the uncharted waters with you. 

If it wasn’t for every single one of your senses being completely preoccupied with Josh, you might have noticed that everyone was sitting around the both of you in silence, if not total shock. They had only expected a quick-maybe even slightly awkward peck between the two of you. If you were to look back on the experience, you might admit that you probably had forgotten their existence altogether.

You were simply too immersed in how his slender fingers weaved delicately through your hair, pulling you into him tighter than before. With your own hands placed firmly on his chest, you started to feel his breathing shake with each exhale of his lungs under your palms. He must have been sharing the same amount of bravery when he flicked his tongue across your lip in an act of asking permission. You were quick to grant it to him. opening your mouth slightly with the invitation. 

It had been too long since you had shared anything remotely similar to this with anyone and you wished you could live in this moment forever. He let out a desperate moan into you as soon as your tongue danced across his. Everything about Josh was warm and addicting. It enveloped you in every sense, from how he tasted, to how his skin felt on your face as he brushed his thumbs across your flushed cheeks. It was delicate with a subtle sweetness, yet still containing the desire that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest.

You should have been embarrassed by how you straddled yourself on his lap while you dragged your hands up the length of his neck and through his hair. Maybe even ashamed at your hungry desire when you instinctively tugged the loose curls through your fingers and pulled them from his scalp. The simple action had caused him to groan and nip at your bottom lip in response. The sharp sensation was enough to elicit a hiss through your teeth and make you pull away from him for the first time.

The break in contact gave you both the chance to catch your breath- and also allowed everyone else to finally react- with them erupting in a mix of cheers and whistling that would make anyone blush. 

The way Josh looked over you, combined with alcohol flowing through your system made you giggle from the unexpected predicament you were now both in. He ignored everyone around you and let his half-lidded eyes drift slowly down the features of your face while he swept his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip. He let his tongue peek out to wet his own lips as if he was reliving the memory of how you felt, or maybe the action was just out of wanting a little bit more of you. 

He leaned forward so his lips brushed ever-so-slightly on the shell of your ear and whispered, “You’re pretty good at that.” The intoxicating warmth of his breath fanning across your skin made a shutter roll through the length of your back. Despite the summer air and bonfire next to you, goosebumps instantly formed on your skin. Before letting it all come to an end, he gave a final playful nip to your earlobe and leaned back on the blanket under him. 

The commotion going on behind you catapulted you back into the reality of what just happened between you. You had made out with Josh for the first time within twenty-four hours of meeting him in front of everyone. In front of a group of people that you barely even knew. Hell, you couldn’t remember most of their names if you’d tried. You weren’t even entirely sure if he liked you, or if you even liked him in a romantic sense either. 

The flood of overwhelming thoughts and feelings circling around in your clouded mind were enough to ruin everything if it wasn’t for how Josh smiled at you. Everything about it was perfect, somehow easing the nerves and convincing you that everything was okay but also leaving you with uncertainty of your situation. 

Before you really had the chance to process any of it, your eyes locked onto the silhouettes of two people off in the distance. After taking a second to focus your eyes, you realized it was two men standing near the entrance of the dunes.

“Josh, who are those guys?” His expression dropped the second he heard the new panicked tone in your voice. You signaled with your eyes to look behind him, making him turn immediately. 

It seemed like every muscle in his body tensed all at once when he saw them. He quickly rose to his feet, “Uhh…hold on.” 

“Are they cops?” You remembered that Josh implied during the drive that all of you really shouldn’t  even be on this beach. Being arrested for trespassing was not on your to-do list. 

“No, no. I’ll take care of it. Stay here, okay?” The hint of stress now in his voice did little to reassure you. You reached to grab his hand to stop him, but instead he patted your shoulder. 

You looked around to everyone else, eventually locking eyes with Sam and he only shrugged lazily in response. The only one that seemed to share any amount of concern with you was Jake.

He was also looking in the direction of the strange men, but still ignoring you altogether. You continued to watch in the distance as Josh caught up to them, stood there for a few seconds and had the two men follow him towards where the cars were parked.

You waited for what was probably close to a half an hour for Josh to return to you. Everyone had started to pack up their belongings, working their way back to the lot with their coolers and chairs. Jake and Jenny were nowhere to be seen, breaking off from the group minutes beforehand. 

You had concerns that Josh could have left you there stranded without a ride home. You didn’t think he would do it intentionally, but the obvious change in body language when he saw those men made you worry incessantly.

Having had enough of waiting around, you grabbed your shoes and headed your way back towards the Jeep, praying that it was still sitting where Josh had left it. When you were nearly off the beach, you were met with the sight of Jake and Jenny entangled together once again. This time however, Jake was no longer teasing the idea to you. He had her propped with her back against the wooden stall that housed the shower that was used to hose off sand from the beach. One of his legs was slotted between hers, a hand was tugging the hair at the nape of her neck and another grabbing her chin to hold it steady. Jenny had hooked her knee around his waist and had her arms locked around his shoulders. You grimaced as you saw his tongue slip into her mouth, abandoning any sense of propriety.

It was a mess of hungry, sensual moans and desperate grabbing of hands that made you sick to your stomach. Not wanting to witness another second, you walked by as quickly as you could, hoping that they didn’t notice you. You were also not willing to give him the pleasure knowing how much it affected you.

You were instantly relieved when you spotted the white Jeep parked right where he left it. When you approached the passenger side door you almost jumped out of your skin seeing Josh already sitting in the driver’s seat, alone in the dark.

“Where have you been?!”

“Oh fuck!” You had startled him as well, making him flinch dramatically from the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry, Greenie. I didn’t mean to-“

When he turned to look at you, he swept his thumb and finger across his nose to wipe what appeared to be blood from his face. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get nosebleeds sometimes,” he sniffled and wiped the drips of blood from his nose with the back of his hand and onto his shorts. It was so dark out that you couldn't really make out any of the details of his face, but you swore you saw his left cheek starting to swell.

“Josh…” you reached your hand out towards him, but for the first time he recoiled from the action. 

“Greenie, it's nothing. I promise.” He shifted his body away from yours so he was looking away out the driver’s side. 

“Was it those guys?” You kept your voice low and gentle, yet still direct. The thought of them hurting him made your heart drop, but you didn’t buy the random nosebleed excuse either. 

“I said it was nothing, okay?!” He shouted, making you jump back in your seat. This was the first time he raised his voice or showed any anger towards you. His reaction stunned you and you could only sit in silence. 

His shoulders slumped in shame and guilt as he let out a frustrated sigh, “Hey, I’m sorry-“

“Josh, It’s fine. Just take me home.”

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