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s-brant · 3 years

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Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn��t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx s2 #uh oh trouble in paradise #anyway that smut #kinda wanna get railed by JJ in the back of the van #don’t we all?

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darkmulti · 4 years

Text

Tinker Bell

Stray Kids & Ateez

Parings: Richboy!San & Hyunjin x brat!female reader

Genre: Smut, angst

Word Count: 3.6K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Synopsis: San falls in love with his bestfriends crush and it turns into a messy, love triangle. But once they realize this girl has broken their wonderful friendship..... read to find out

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A/N: Warnings are after under cut! Sorry if I ruined your childhood with the title. Whoops!

⚠️Warnings: forced ddlg relationship, threesome, anal, bondage, overstimulation, dacryphilia, humiliation, physical abuse, language, heavy degradation, cum eating, blowjob, dirty talking, spitting, fisting, camera play, breeding kink, squirting, probably missing something, if I am please forgive me:(

SEMI NON CONSENSUAL SEX

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“Come on Hyunjin, let me go!”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the man and yanks her arm out of his grip. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not interested in dating you. Go back to your nerd club and don’t talk to me again. Being near you can hurt my reputation.”

She pushes him and sashays away. San comes up behind the male and pats him on the back. “Remind me why you like her again? She’s a total bitch that can’t get over herself.” He said while watching her walk down the hallway. “I thought I could date her. I tried everything. I’m nice, aren’t I?”

“You’re nice, but if a history textbook was a human, it would be you. She’s a princess and she needs a prince. Change up your style and maybe you’ll have a chance with her.” Hyunjin scoffs. “Before you start coming at me, why don’t you take a look at yourself. Your hair looks like a pie chart, San.”

“Shut up, my hair looks beautiful.” San huffs and combs his hair back, feeling a little insecure. The two boys were too busy dissing each other’s looks, they didn’t notice Y/N coming back their way and hearing in. “You both are ugly. Sorry, but it had to be said.”

She was just about to walk away until San pulled her back by the arm and pushed her against the locker. He chuckles and gets close to her face, “who are you to judge us because of how we look? Are you some kind of fashion fairy? Listen here you little cunt….” he whispers into her ear so Hyunjin couldn’t hear, “why don’t you spread your wings and not your legs for once, little tinker bell? Fly away from here and don’t talk about us ever again. Though…” San smirks and looks away for a second, before going back. “Though.. I want to fuck you so hard and feel your pussy clench around my cock. But the only turn off about you is how your pussy probably looks like a flat tire.”

San ‘accidentally’ rubs his bulge against her hand and moves away from her face so she could leave. “Now that’s how you put someone back in their place.” Hyunjin looks at San with a resentful expression. “You’re actually such an asshole, Choi San. I just told you that I like her, but you still- you know what? Nevermind. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Hyunjin walks away, angered by San, but San only brushes it off.

This was the beginning of a love triangle.

San didn’t know what came over him when he was confronting Y/N. He didn’t like her at all, but the moment he stood over her, a light turn on. Or maybe it turned off. The young man was doing pull ups in a black tank top, that showed off his muscular biceps. After his workout he showered and changed into his boxers. He was drying his hair, while picking out a ‘less nerdy’ outfit.

He decided on a full black outfit. Black jeans, black shirt and black leather jacket. He grabbed black dye from his drawer and dyed his hair back to black and trimmed his mullet since it was getting long.

Hyunjin was doing something similar. He was also changing up his style with the help of his fashionable mom. She criticizes Hyunjin's wardrobe and lends him his father's clothes, which were much more expensive and trendy. He thanks his mother and shaves his face. He was a little anxious to show off the new Hyunjin, causing him to not sleep very well.

The next morning arrives and Hyunjin wakes up with a full smile. He gets ready for the day and greets his mother, who was preparing breakfast for him. “Oh look at my handsome son.” She walks over to him, cups his cheeks and kisses his forehead. “You look just like your father. He would be proud.” Hyunjin smiles and sits down at the table to eat his breakfast.

The other boy was also getting ready, but sadly his parents were not there to compliment him. San’s parents were constantly working and barely ever considered his existence. He would see his mom once in a while, but rarely saw his dad.

Choi gets in his car and drives to school, only to see a new, black sports car in the parking lot. He parked his car and waited for whoever it was. To his surprise it was Hyunjin. San was a little jealous of him since Hyunjin came from a caring family. His parents spoiled him with love. That’s something San couldn’t compete with.

Y/N was standing in front of the school, checking out Hyunjin. She twirled her gum around her fingers and pulled her skirt higher, so you can see her ass. “Hwang Hyunjin is that you?!” She skips to him with a teasing look on her face. “Sure is. But I thought you didn’t like nerds.”

“I can like you if you keep looking like this.” She winks and places one hand on his shoulder, gradually getting closer to his face. Her other hand takes Hyunjin’s palm and places it on her bare ass cheek. “Don’t be shy, spank me.” She giggles and leans in kissing him. His comforting aroma made her feel safe in his arms. Hyunjin spanks the little girl and grins, holding her closer to him. He was about to say something, until the crowds outside the school started to noticeably whisper. Y/N and Hyunjin both turn to the noise, and see San running his fingers through his hair, with a deadpan expression.

The man bites down on his lip and slightly brings down his sunglasses to wink at a girl. Y/N bit down on her own lip, and felt this irritating rush. Why did her insides burn with jealousy? These were the same two men that she bullied the day before. Yet, they have her dripping wet. She turns her attention back to Hyunjin. “He’s a dumb show off, Hyunjinie. Come on, we’ll be late for class.”

She interwines her hands with his bigger ones and drags him into the school. The second they turn the hallways, they see San having a hot makeout session with some random chick. The man shoving his tongue down the girl's throat didn’t even notice that Hyunjin and Y/N were there, until Y/N cleared her throat. “Excuse me, my locker’s there.” San pulls away and apologizes. “Oh I-I’m sorry, she was just so tasty.” San looks back at his girl and tells her to hand over her phone. “Call me tonight baby. I hope you taste just as sweet as your saliva.” Both of them go their separate ways, leaving Y/N and Hyunjin alone.

Again, Y/N felt pain and anger at the same time. San looked like he was ready to eat the girl alive, and what she would’ve done to be in her place. She sighs and looks at Hyunjin. “I want to apologize for always being a jerk to you. I just- I don’t know. Hurting other people gives me pleasure and attention that I enjoy..”

“Ohhh, so you’re just a needy, little attention whore. I get it now.” Hyunjin nods and face palms his forehead in an over exaggerated way. “I’m not a whore Hyunjin..” She picks up her unzipped pencil case and proceeds to say, “I don’t appreciate that name!” Y/N throws her hands in the air, causing all the pencils to fly out everywhere on the hallway floor. She grumbles and bends down to pick them up, immediately waking up Hyunjin’s little friend. Uncontrollably, he grips onto her waist and pulls her back onto his bulge. Y/N moans and rubs her slit onto him more. “Look at what you've done. Now you have to fix it.”

“Please let me.” Hyunjin easily throws her over his shoulder and spanks her ass. He carried her into the back of the library, where all the bookshelves could cover them. “You have to be quiet, or else we’ll get caught.” “Well no shit sherlock.” She whispers yells, whilst rolling her eyes. Hyunjin bends her over, covers her mouth and slaps her ass. “I dare you to talk back to me…” he spanks her again, “needy whore.”

Hyunjin rips her panties off and stuffs it into her mouth before taking himself out. He puts his hand over the girl's mouth and thrust into her soaked pussy. He pounds her right away, kicking her breath out with each thrust. The library was dead silent and the skin clapping got a little too loud, causing the librarian to get up and look around. She was headed their way and Hyunjin quickly pulled her under a nearby desk and used a chair to cover themselves. Her legs wrap around his waist and he goes even faster, directly hitting her spot, just as the old woman walks passed. She rolls her eyes and covers her own mouth, spasming under him. “C-cum” she squeaks out. “Cum, cum now!” She squeezes her walls around Hyunjin, cumming all over his long veiny cock. “Wait, you’re on birth control right?!” “Yes! Please cum in me daddy, please!”

Hyunjin throws his head back while spilling his seeds in her. Unfortunately for him, he bangs his head under the table, catching the librarians attention. “What the- ” she mutters to herself, pulling the chair away. She finches and yells, “YOU DISGUSTING KIDS ARE HAVING SEX IN MY LIBRARY?!” The man gets off his girlfriend and stands up. “Don’t be upset that you haven’t gotten laid in like... forever. You could’ve masterbated to the sounds of my balls clapping her ass.”

“Hyunjin!” She whines. “Shut it needy slut.”

Her expression changed into disappointment. She didn’t like to be called a slut. “But daddyy~” she tugs on his pants and looks up at him. Hyunjin pulls her up slightly and slaps her. “This is all your fucking fault!” She tears up and holds her burning cheek, “M-my fault? H-how is it my-” Hyunjin slaps her again and drags her by her hair out of the library. “Ow! Hyunjin let me go!” She tries to pry his fingers off her hair, but his grip only gets harder. “P-please hyunjin! Leave me alone!”

“San was right about you! You’re just an attention whore and will spread your legs for anyone!” He spits on her face and pushes her to the ground. He gets on top of her, shoving his fist inside of her and ripping her clothes off. “Hyunjin! It hurts!”

“I bet it does.” Hyunjin took her again, in the middle of the hallway. His fingers were tightly wrapped around her neck to make sure she couldn’t call for help. She sobbed, kicked and squealed under the much bigger man. Her insides were screaming as she could feel his bulge hit her stomach. Hyunjin was too busy taking her to notice San taking a video and quietly walking towards them. Y/N turns her head and her eyes meet San’s eyes right away. Her eyes were full of tears and her arms were weak from punching Hyunjin chests so many times.

Fortunately, Hyunjin notices that something got her attention and looks as well. “San. Why are you recording?” San smiles, “I’m not recording, I’m live. Continue fucking her, the viewers are loving it.”

Y/N cries harder, “no! Stop please don’t record this!” She slips out of Hyunjins tight grip and makes a run for it. Both of the males bolt after her, laughing and teasing her.

She runs outside and trips on her shoelace, causing the cement to tear her skin and bleed. “Owieee” she holds her bleeding knee to her chest and cries. San and Hyunjin run outside and spot her crying. “Awee, did the little Tinker Bell get a boo boo?” San says, mockingly.

“P-please it’s not funny, it hurts.” Hyunjin pushes San back and strikes her face. “This is what I mean. You’re so fucking dumb, you’re not even capable of running away. Now you have to pay.”

“NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!” She ignores the raging pain in her knee and tries to limp away. San wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her back. “Where ya going, Tinker Bell.”

“Let me go! You guys are insane!” She cries in San’s arms and struggles to get out of his grip. “I-I PLEASE! LET ME GO!” San and Hyunjin laugh at her poor attempts. “She’ll never learn until she gets pounded by two.” San says, smirking at Hyunjin. “T-two? Y-you two?... No, no, no, please!” She begs, dropping down to her knees. “Lick my shoe clean and we’ll think about it.” A smug smile plasters on San’s face, but his request made both Y/N and Hyunjin cringe. “What, Tinker Bell? Did I fucking stutter?”

“N-no” she leans down and licks his shoes. “Tinker Bell’s so terrified of me, slut’s licking my shoe. That’s how you dom, Hyunjin.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you kiss her after she licks off your dirty shoes.” Hyunjin’s tone was telling San that he was a bit disgusted, but San gladly does it anyway. He pulls her up by the hair and shoves his tongue down her throat. San wrapped his arms around her and sucked her tongue, until he pulled away, creating a string of saliva between the two. “Open your mouth Tinker Bell.” She opens her mouth and San spits in it and slaps her ass. “Notice how she’s so submissive to me. That’s how you claim your power. Right, Tinker Bell?” San looks down into her pure eyes and pets her cheek with one hand. “Right daddy. You’re always right.” She whispers out, suddenly compelled by San.

“Good girl. Let’s go.” Hyunjin unlocks his car and sits in the driver's seat, while Y/N and San sit in the backseat. During the car ride, San pulled Y/N onto his knee and kept hitting her clit with it. He then licked his fingers and rubbed her clit rapidly, making her cum on San’s thigh. “Daddy!” She moans out, uncontrollably bouncing on his knee. San grabbed her tits and played with them while she bounced and rubbed her clit against his thigh, furiously. “I’m gonna cum again!” San pushes her off of him and shoves his fist into her. “You’re not even fucking tight. What a waste of time.”

Hyunjin chuckles and pulls into his driveway. San takes his fist out and pushes her onto the cement, expecting her to crawl. Y/N’s knee starts bleeding again, so she looks up to San for help. “Please! My knees really hurt!” Hyunjin kicks her down and tangles his fingers into her hair. “Crawl slut!” She winces, slowly crawling into the house until Hyunjin gets impatient and pulls her hair to go faster.

“Please! You’re hurting me! I want San and only San!” Hyunjin kicked her cunt from behind, making her scream and whimper. “I HATE YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE HYUNJIN!” The man picks her up and throws her on the bed. The two men act quickly and put her down before she could scream. They tie her down onto the bed and put a tie around her mouth. Hyunjin has been waiting for this moment. He never thought that it would go down like this but hey, it was working and that’s all the matters to him. The little girl he greatly lusted for, was tied to his bed, at his mercy. Hyunjin quickly strips, completely forgetting about San and fucks his soul into her.

“YOU FUCKING CUNT! YOU’RE LIFE WOULD’VE BEEN SO MUCH EASIER IF YOU JUST..” Hyunjins hips sped up and he choked her down, pounding inside of her. “P-PLEASE HYUNJIN! I-I’M SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING, BUT PLEASE SLOW DOWN IT HURTS SO BAD!” Both of them were screaming at the top of their lungs, while San sat back, naked, with one hand stroking his cock and the other hand holding his belt. The skin slapping was music to his ears. He watches as his pal fucks anger and sadness into her, feeling no pity. “SAN P-PLEASE HElp” Hyunjin slaps her and growls, going as fast as he can, nearly breaking the bed.

“I hate you!” She hiccuped. “I hate both of you!” She tugs on her restrainants, but they were just too tight to get out of. Her next option was to cry, but no one would hear her because of the tie around her mouth. Hyunjin’s cock twitched at the sight of her ruined face. Her hot tears glided down her face and her pussy clenched around his cock as it went deep into her stomach. Hyunjin pressed down on his bulge in her stomach and pounds her harder. “You like this Tinker Bell. You love it…”

“No, I don't!” Her words were muffled and weak. “Even if you don’t, I’ll fuck my babies into you in the future. We can have a nice little family. Wouldn’t you love that? Wouldn’t you love to be the mother of my kids?” The man sends her a sinister look, before he cums into her once again. Y/N’s muffled screams release when she squirts all over Hyunjin and starts hysterically crying.

The man blows on her burning clit, sending shivers up her spine. “My turn.” San stands up and clears his throat. His cum was all over his hand and cock. His long, veiny cock stood tall and proud. He walks past Hyunjin, and flips Y/N over onto her stomach, because her preferred to take her from behind. “San please, please have mercy on me! I beg you! Please please please stop!”

“Little whore’s scared now? What happened to the brat behaviour? What happened to that diva, fashion fairy? Is she hiding in your tiny asshole? Looks like I have to go in, to find out.”

“NO!” San presses her face into a pillow and forces his cock into her ass. Her hole hugged each of his veins, throwing him off the edge. “Fuck! This is the only hole of yours that isn’t tight. Well not for long.” She kicks her feet under him, hoping to grab his attention. But it doesn’t work. Nothing and I mean nothing would stop San in that moment.

To make it even ‘better’, Hyunjin pulls her hair out of her face and forces his cock down her throat, face slamming her after. She gags multiple times and her tears slide down his cock, making it salty.

San rams her ass, while Hyunjin fucks her face and all she could do was cry about it. Her ass was on fire around San’s huge cock because she’s never been stretched in that area.

Both of the males cum almost at the same time. Y/N’s ass overflows with San’s cum and her mouth fills up with Hyunjin’s. “Is it- is it over?”

“Not even close!” The boys flip her on her side and this time, Hyunjin takes her from behind. Both don’t waste any time to hold her down and fuck her viciously. San watched as the girl’s tears, whimpers and sobs left her shaking mouth. Hyunjin choked her from behind while slamming into her. She cries, helplessly on San’s shoulder, regretting every mistake she’s made.

“Please slow down! My body can’t do it! Please I’ll faint! Please!” She sobbed out, feeling her heart break. “Please!” They both move in closer, squishing Y/N between them, so she could feel the pressure in her stomach. San and Hyunjin’s cock rub inside her, and go up to her stomach, constantly knocking air out of her.

San moves her hair away from her face and ear. He kisses her jawline up to her ear and whispers. “You gonna be a good girl for your daddies?”

“Yes”

“Are you gonna listen and obey your daddies?”

“Y-yes”

“You’re gonna allow your daddies to use you for anything they want, correct.”

Her heart clenches and she squeezes her eyes shut, squirting around San.

“C-c-cor-rectt” she quietly stutters out.

Hyunjin marks her neck up from behind, while San made sure she was still conscious. Y/N’s vision blurred because of the tears in her eyes and she slowly cried under the two men. Her legs were too weak to kick, she lost her voice from crying, and had the small amount of energy that was keeping her conscious.

Hyunjin moves in closer, licking and sucking on her ear. San moves in closer too, pulling her in a rough, deep kiss, giving her all of his saliva. He proceeds to lick her cheeks and bite her jawline. “You’re so fucking sexy, tinker bell.”

The man behind you starts degrading you in your ear. “It could’ve just been me and my cock. But you need two to pound this filthy, used pussy. This is your fault! Keep crying about it, but just know you did this to yourself!” He spits on her face and slaps her ass.

“Daddies, I’m close and it hurts.”

“Baby, squirt for your daddies one more time.”

She shakes her head, no, because her insides were killing her. Her core was on fire and they kept hitting the same spot where it hurt. She silently sobs and stuffs her face into the pillow, not having the energy to face them.

“Do it! Squirt you little slut!” San growls in her ear, and his sweat drips down onto her face.

“I-it hurts! N-no!”

San holds her down and they both increase their speed, making her scream. “IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY!” She clenches around the boys and quivers violently. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything! Please I’m so sorry!”

She cries as she squirts for the third time. Her crying was a lot louder and both of the men hugged her to calm her down. “That’s enough, don’t overreact.” Hyunjin says, in a quiet tone.

Her legs shake and her eyelids get heavy. “A-are we done?”

San kisses her forehead and cuddles in closer.

“Yes we are, Tinker Bell”

————

Not edited! Will edit in the morning!

#garbage

507 notes · View notes

girlboss-molina · 3 years

Text

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 3: A Demonstrative Lesson in Simping

AO3 Link

Words: 12.8k

-----

Alex POV

...

It had been a week, and Alex hadn’t seen Willie since that fateful night when he’d earned the nickname “your royal pancakeness.” It was probably better that way, to be honest. The way Willie moved, everything about him, the energy that surrounded him, it made Alex feel weird and fluttery. If his anxious reading through the random romance novels on the bookshelf in his room, plus his constant googling of “do I have a crush” quizzes (on incognito tabs, obviously; treason wasn’t very high on his bucket list) said anything about his current situation, though, he was royally screwed.

No pun intended.

It didn’t help, either, that every time he thought about the baker’s smile, his long hair, the way his dark eyes crinkled at the edges when he laughed, a shiver ran down Alex’s spine. It was so confusing. How the hell could he have a crush on someone he barely knew?

He dragged a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. Laying on the floor and questioning his existence had become a daily occurrence, oftentimes - like today - with Luke by his side.

“Emotions are the bane of my existence,” he said plaintively, not bothering to look away from the high ceilings, letting the flecks of dust in the air blend in with the tiny spots in his vision after not blinking for so long. “Like,” he continued, “how is it logical that a couple little zaps to the brain can make your stomach drop, or make your palms sweat, or even a week after something happened, still make you feel cold and warm at the same time?”

He wasn’t sure if the question was meant to be rhetorical, but he was still grateful for Luke’s reply, however unhelpful it may turn out to be.

“Bro, I don’t know,” he agreed. “Like, one minute you’re fine, and the next you’re about to accidentally commit treason.” Alex let out a dry laugh.

“Tell me about it.” A few moments passed, and he blinked, finally letting new moisture clear his vision. “Also, called it.”

“Wh-” Luke started, clearing his throat. “What do you mean, ‘called it?’”

“You like Julie?” Alex assumed, ignoring the swelling bubble of treasonous worry in his stomach. “I might’ve overthought every possible aspect of this, and your comment about accidental treason confirmed what I already thought.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luke drag a hand down his face, heard him groan.

“I barely know her,” he started, “but I’m already so… I don’t even know the word. Intrigued? Infatuated? In-something.” Alex nodded, letting his head smack back down on the carpet. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“Why?”

“I can only imagine how much this must be on your anxiety, and this doesn’t help.”

“It doesn’t, but it’s not the first bit of accidental treason.” His eyes finally flicked away from their spot on the ceiling as Luke bolted upright.

“No way,” he said. “Who?” Alex’s cheeks flushed. Before he could respond, though, Luke spoke again. “Wait, let me get this straight. Well, gay. You’ve liked a guy for an entire week, and you didn’t tell me? This is a betrayal of our friendship!” Alex knew he was being dramatic.

“You say that as if you didn’t do the exact same thing,” he countered. Luke considered that for a moment.

“Whatever. Okay, details.”

“His name’s Willie,” he said. “He’s a baker down at the kitchens behind the grand hall.” Alex saw a huge grin spread on Luke’s face, but couldn’t bring himself to share his friend’s ever-blooming optimism. He sighed. “Do you think there’s a way to go through with the marriage but like, platonically? Like, just tell the people ‘yeah we’re getting married, just not romantically.’ I just think that would work out better for everybody.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Luke said. “Not sure how it would work out, but I agree.”

“On the plus side, being criminals automatically makes us at least 50% cooler.”

“Dude, aren’t you the one with anxiety?”

“I have my moments.”

A familiar knock rang on the door. How, in one week, it had become so familiar, they would never know. But as Alex told Reggie to come in, his infectious smile permeated through the room like the smell of vanilla on a cold day.

“Did I hear something about treason?” he asked excitedly. “Because I am always down. Tell your friends; you need a treason buddy, I’m your guy. But of course, for legal reasons, that’s a joke.” Alex snorted.

Reggie had managed to weasel his way into both his and Luke’s hearts in a matter of days. He was so sweet, so loving, and such a dork, how could he not? Luke’s interactions with Reggie reminded Alex of two best friends who supported each other unconditionally. Alex’s own interactions with the princess’s brother? They were more like bantering siblings who loved each other so much, but were not above toilet-papering the other’s room.

“Well,” Luke began, “the arranged marriage was already a major fuck-up on the council’s decision. We could add in some treason to the mix. Just for funsies.”

“You just want to hang out with Julie, don’t you?” Alex prodded. Luke flushed, and Reggie grinned.

“Called it.”

“Oh come on, you too?”

“Dude,” Reggie said. “I love you, but you’re not exactly subtle.” Luke pouted, and Alex cracked up. “You, on the other hand,” Reggie added, “I’m not sure who your treasonous crush is.”

“A baker named Willie,” Luke interjected before Alex could reply. “And I still haven’t heard the story of how you met, I might add.” Alex groaned.

“I assume there’s no way I’m getting out of this?”

“Not a chance,” Luke and Reggie replied in unison.

This was going to be a disaster.

…

After explaining the details of how he met Willie, and enduring multiple agonizing minutes of Reggie and Luke gushing about an “adorable, treasonous meet-cute,” Alex finally prodded Luke for details about his feelings for Julie.

“Uh, well, it’s not really feelings, plus, I doubt Reggie wants to hear about hypothetical feelings someone might have for his sister.”

“Wrong,” Reggie said. “I want to know everything.” Alex laughed.

“See, I would explain, but the self-defense class starts in a minute-”

“Thirty,” Reggie corrected.

“Like I said, it starts in a minute, so I’d better run.” Without another word, he bolted out the door.

“You can’t keep running from your feelings forever,” Alex called to Luke.

“No, but I can run from you two goons!” Alex and Reggie couldn’t contain their laughter by that point, so they let that simp of a man get out of it for a little while.

…

After hanging out with Reggie in the recording studio, Alex was walking down the corridor behind the great hall, for old time’s (a week ago) sake, pacing back and forth. He didn’t actually know what he would do if someone asked why the prince was pacing the hallway near the kitchens for no apparent reason, but what happened was simultaneously both better and worse, because who would he run into (thankfully not literally this time) but a familiar brown-eyed man with a crooked smile.

“Hey there, your royal pancakeness!” He called, and oh, how Alex wished Willie didn’t have such an endearing smile.

“Hey, Willie!” He ignored the butterflies rising in his stomach. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good! Just got on break. You okay?” He asked, a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Alex assured him. “Just walking.”

“Cool.”

Alex tried not to stare, but Willie made it impossible. The way he flipped his long hair, the way his dark eyes sparkled with flecks of gold in the light, how his smile lit up every time he spoke. The adorable smudge of flour on his nose didn’t help, either.

“You sure?” Willie asked, the faint flicker of concern right back to the furrow in his eyebrows. “You look a little dazed.”

Yeah, that’s because you’re gorgeous and I already have a crush on you despite only meeting you once.

“Just a little tired, I guess.” The lie was a classic one, and Willie could surely see through the bullshit, but if he did, he didn’t prod.

“Well, make sure you get some sleep tonight. In the meantime, I’m off to skate a little. You wanna come?”

Skating? There was a 100% chance that Alex would fall flat on his ass and humiliate himself. He’d never once been on a skateboard, at least, not since he’d sprained his wrist when he was seven, and his mother had banned all skateboards from the palace. And yet, the adorable look in Willie’s eyes still had Alex saying, “I’d love too.” He mentally kicked himself, but that annoyance was quickly replaced with another swarm of butterflies when Willie’s smile lit up even brighter than before.

“Sick! Follow me.”

…

The skate park wasn’t technically a skate park by any means. It was an actual park, hidden away in the vast garden grounds of Dahlia, and it really said something about the size of the palace grounds that Alex didn’t even know it was there.

Concrete sidewalks lined the perimeter, with swirling roundabouts at the corners, plus unoccupied metal benches and sliding railings that Willie didn’t hesitate to jump over. He even did a move where he jumped and the skateboard did a flip, before landing right back on it, steady as ever. But when Alex watched him let out a whoop and skate quickly around the roundabout as it sloped, not losing his balance once, he was sure Willie was just showing off.

Alex did his best to cool his blushing face as Willie made his way back.

“Want to try?” He asked.

“Oh, no,” he deflected. “I’ve never actually skateboarded before, and I’m pretty sure I’d just look stupid.”

“You’ve never skated before?”

“Not once.” He knew it was technically a lie, because he’d skated once when he was seven but that didn’t really count, but it still wasn’t true and what if Willie found out about the lie and hated him for being dishonest and what if he seemed like a bitch for lying about something so miniscule and-

“Well, there’s an easy way to fix that,” Willie said with a grin, making all of Alex’s previous anxieties melt away. They were, of course, quickly replaced with new ones because cute boy, but still.

Before Alex knew it, Willie was extending his hand and stepping off the skateboard, that beautiful, crooked smile still plastered on his gorgeous face. And then, despite the voice in the back of his head, screaming to play it safe, he listened to the whisper, barely audible, telling him to go for it. So, before he could change his mind, he took Willie’s hand. It was rough and calloused, with a few scars peppered on his fingers, but it was perfect. Slowly, tentatively, he stepped onto the skateboard, and…

Immediately fell flat on his ass. Or, he would have, had Willie not been quicker and run behind him, catching him by the shoulders with a laugh. Alex’s cheeks did their best to catch fire, and he immediately apologized.

“No, bro, you’re good! Just glad I caught you,” Willie said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, only just noticing how long Willie’s eyelashes were. He wasn't sure if he imagined it when Willie’s cheeks looked darker the longer he stared. Alex cleared his throat.

“Okay, let’s try this again.” Willie outstretched his hand again, and this time, Alex didn’t hesitate before taking it. He took a deep breath, grounding himself before stepping onto the skateboard, squeezing the other man’s hand and using him for support.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, very excitedly, considering all he’d done was step onto an immobile skateboard. But Willie shared his excitement.

“Hell yeah, dude! Want me to push you so you move?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Understandable, have a nice day.” Alex and Willie stared at each other, deadpan, before bursting out laughing. But, because the universe hated him, Alex fell forwards, right on top of Willie, chests pressed together and noses barely apart.

He tried to move, but he was too caught up in how fucking close they were. Willie had caught himself, leaning backwards but standing, and somehow his arms had gotten wrapped around Alex’s waist, holding him tight. It was clearly just to make sure neither of them fell, but Alex couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut.

Neither of them moved. Alex took a steadying breath, not looking away from Willie’s beautiful eyes. He cursed his stupid heart for fluttering, for suggesting treason because of a guy he’d just met, a guy with eyes so beautiful it should’ve been illegal, a guy with a perfect sense of humor, a guy who was so energetic and kind but also understanding, a guy who was now standing upright and steady, as was Alex, but who was still holding him close, arms wrapped around his waist. A guy who was surely just making sure he was still steady, but who looked at him with such intensity that it made him weak in the knees.

Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“Sorry, I kinda… Fell.” Willie gave that perfect laugh, and oh, if Alex wasn’t already smitten, he was now.

“Yeah, I caught that. No pun intended.” Alex let out an extremely undignified snort.

“That,” he said through giggles, “was so bad.” When he looked up, Willie’s cheeks were red but he laughed too.

Maybe treasonous feelings weren’t so bad.

…

As he made his way up to his quarters, Alex flopped on his bed, a giddy grin still over his face. His cheeks hurt from smiling, but he just couldn’t stop. Willie was so… he didn’t even have the words. His laugh was like sunshine in the Summer, warm and bright and the source of all life in the world. His eyes were dark but somehow bright as well, and in the light they looked like bowls of honey as they twinkled. Everything about him was so ethereal, and Alex was completely gone on him. Which was, of course, extremely illegal, but he somehow couldn’t bring himself to care.

As Luke walked in, the aroma of shampoo floating with him and giving away the fact that he’d just showered, he heard a laugh.

“How was your date?” Alex didn’t bother denying it.

“He tried to teach me how to skateboard,” he said, eyes dreamy as he remembered the fond look in Willie’s eyes as he’d fallen. “I almost fell but he-”

“No way. Did he catch you?”

“Twice.” Alex laughed when Luke squealed.

“Well, dude, you know it’s your turn to ask him out, right?”

What?

Alex bolted upright. “What do you mean?”

“I know you weren’t the one to ask him out today. That means it’s your turn to find him and ask him out for another little outing.”

“Fuck.” How the hell was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t just keep wandering the halls behind the kitchens, people would get suspicious. But… maybe he could find Willie again at the park. He’d seemed to know it well.

But what if that made him look creepy? That was Willie’s area that he’d brought Alex to, Alex was merely a guest in Willie’s beautiful domain, even if it was part of the palace. He still felt like he would be intruding.

“I’ll let you deal with that,” Luke said with a laugh.

“Yeah. In the meantime, though, how was self-defense?” Luke had a dopey grin as soon as he thought.

“Amazing.”

Alex listened to his best friend ramble on and on about how incredible it was, or rather, she was. Apparently, Julie had been instructed to go early, so Luke wasn’t able to avoid her. But it didn’t matter, because Alex got to hear his lovestruck best friend rant about how badass she was and how incredible their fights were when they sparred.

A knock rang on the door. Alex cleared his throat, standing up. Luke straightened his back. When he shot Alex a look, Alex nodded.

“Come in.” As the handle turned, a pit in Alex’s stomach formed as King Ray Molina stepped through. He scrambled into a bow, as did Luke.

“Your majesty, is everything alright?”

“It’s okay, mijos, there’s no need to bow.” Alex stood straight again. “You are needed in the royal office. Well, technically only Alex, but Luke should come too. And put on something respectable but comfortable. It might be a long night.” With that, Ray left, leaving the two of them there.

A sinking pit in Alex’s stomach told him that something was very, very wrong.

-----

Luke POV

...

Laying on the floor with Alex was a daily occurrence. It truly was the best spot to have a crisis.

“Emotions are the bane of my existence,” Alex declared. Luke had to agree. “Like,” he continued, “how is it logical that a couple little zaps to the brain can make your stomach drop, or make your palms sweat, or even a week after something happened, still make you feel cold and warm at the same time?”

“Bro, I don’t know,” he agreed. “Like, one minute you’re fine, and the next you’re about to accidentally commit treason.” Alex let out a dry laugh.

“Tell me about it.” A few moments passed, and Luke stared at the ceiling. There were small knots in the gently stained wood planks, with no particular rhyme or reason. “Also, called it.”

“Wh-” Luke started, clearing his throat. “What do you mean, ‘called it?’”

“You like Julie?” Alex assumed. Luke fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t be treasonous. “I might’ve overthought every possible aspect of this, and your comment about accidental treason confirmed what I already thought.” Luke dragged a hand down his face and groaned. How obvious was he?

“I barely know her,” he started, “but I’m already so… I don’t even know the word. Intrigued? Infatuated? In-something.” In love, maybe.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a moment.

“Why?”

“I can only imagine how much this must be on your anxiety, and this doesn’t help.” Luke mentally kicked himself for adding another worry onto his best friend’s anxiety.

“It doesn’t, but it’s not the first bit of accidental treason.” Luke took a moment to process that before bolting upright.

“No way,” he said. “Who?” He ignored Alex’s blush. “Wait, let me get this straight. Well, gay. You’ve liked a guy for an entire week, and you didn’t tell me? This is a betrayal of our friendship!” How dare he? That was cruel. Luke could’ve been teasing him for seven fucking days and Alex had the gall to hide it?

The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch.

“You say that as if you didn’t do the exact same thing,” Alex countered. Luke considered that for a moment.

“Whatever. Okay, details.”

…

After hearing the adorable details of Alex’s meet-cute with Willie, Luke had officially decided he would be officiating their wedding. He could already see it. Of course, he didn’t have much time to imagine his best friend’s future husband, because soon Alex and Reggie were giving him shit for his “crush” on Julie, and he hightailed it out of there, deciding to go to self-defense early. He could just sit on the bench and wait, be free of anybody who would make his thoughts race-

But of course he couldn’t, because right there was Julie, walking into the arena.

"Hey Luke!" She called with a wave.

"Hey, Julie, what’s up?” He dearly hoped he wasn't blushing.

“Not much,” she replied. “Just came early because Lady Athena wanted me to show the trainees my upside-down move.” She tightened her ponytail. “Why are you here? The main session doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.” Luke blushed, his stomach flipping. What if she thought he was annoying?

“Oh,” he said with a shy laugh. “Alex and Reggie were giving me shit for… something,” he explained, hoping she didn’t catch his slip, “and I decided to escape.” Julie nodded.

“That’s valid.”

“Julie?” called Lady Athena. “You ready?”

“That's my cue,” she said with a smirk, hopping away and over to stand next to the coach. Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The way she moved was ethereal, like a butterfly given human form.

She began explaining her move to the trainees, who were all looking very confused, which Luke understood. It looked super complicated, and you would need some serious core strength to pull it off. But somehow she did it in slow fucking motion.

He found himself migrating towards Julie’s friends, who thankfully greeted him with a smile.

Whispering introductions between them, he met Flynn (the girl with the braids), Carrie (Flynn’s girlfriend), and Mira (Julie’s lady-in-waiting). And as if Luke didn’t already have a healthy amount of fear and respect for the princess, she happened to surround herself with other badasses.

Flynn had an air of confidence around her. The way she squared her shoulders as she walked made her long, dark braids sway behind her back, and the bold style she always had just added to the effect. Carrie, Flynn’s girlfriend, was proof that some people were born to be royal. Everything Carrie did and wore, no matter how simple - like her current athletic clothes - screamed royalty, even though she wasn’t technically royal. And Mira was kind and confident, but there was an air about her that told Luke, this is a powerful woman. Not that he was surprised; He’d seen her fights against Julie.

But he just couldn’t take his eyes off of Julie. She moved so cleanly, never stumbling no matter how difficult the position must’ve been, and even as she held herself sideways on one arm and spun, she landed with uncanny grace.

“Okay, Julie, why don’t you get some water, and we’ll do the demonstrations with opponents?” Lady Athena’s long ponytail swished as she walked towards her, and Luke blushed when Julie smiled.

“Sounds good.” She spun on her heel, jogging to the group and catching Luke’s eye. He could’ve sworn her cheeks darkened, but then again, that move made for an intense workout.

“Dude, I don’t know how you managed to do that spin in slow motion,” Mira told her. Julie laughed, and Luke had never heard a sound so beautiful.

“Practice and good core strength.” She sat down on the bench, Mira by her side. So he was right; core strength was a necessity.

“Hey, uh, Julie?” asked Luke shyly. She was drinking water, so she hummed a questioning tone. Luke cleared his throat. “Would it be okay if I joined them and tried to learn the move?” he asked, gesturing his head to the group of preparing trainees. Julie put down her water bottle, smirking, and Luke felt his own smile rising, though he was also nervous. He wasn’t sure why.

“Technically, you’re not a trainee.” Oh. That was why. Luke opened his mouth to apologize, before Julie cut him off. “But, you could be one of the demonstrative opponents if you want to,” she offered. “I’m supposed to show how the move works against different fighting styles, and I think a Tamborian fighting style would add some variety.” Luke grinned and nodded, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Sounds good, boss.” That time he did see Julie blush, and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

As Julie made her way over to the front of the mats, with Carrie by her side, he sat on the bench next to Mira, enchanted. Before they started their fight, though, Mira elbowed him in the ribs. When he glanced over, she didn’t say anything, but gave him a knowing smirk that made him flush. Was he really that obvious?

“What?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” she said. Luke stammered, trying to find an excuse. Mira laughed.

“Don’t worry, dude. I’m not sure if they would exile me for saying this, but you guys would be cute together. Might be illegal, but then again, I’m always down for some treason.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but he knew he was joking. Evidently, Mira did as well, because she snorted and went back to watching Julie and Carrie.

Luke eagerly did the same, watching as Julie made the first move. Carrie hopped out of the way, striking and giving Julie and opportunity to lean forwards. The princess hopped and landed on her right hand, spinning and tripping Carrie. Luke didn’t pay attention to what she said, but was entranced by how she moved. He vaguely remembered something about a dancer.

“That’s my cue,” Mira told him as Julie finished the round against Carrie. “See you later, lover boy.” Before Luke could come up with a comeback for Julie’s kind but blunt friend, she winked and walked away.

As Julie fought Mira, she mentioned something about a ninja, as well as the way the word “lithe” sounded on her tongue. He watched as she danced around the other girl, twisting and tripping her before winning the fight.

Flynn strutted over to Julie, a confident smirk on her face. She was catlike when she fought, something both Luke and Julie noticed, and he was very proud of himself for thinking of it as she pointed it out.

“However,” Julie said as she made the final spin, pinning Flynn and grabbing her collar, “it turns out, cats don’t always land on their feet.”

Whoa.

Not only was she a complete and utter badass, but she was good at bantering with her friends. Luke wasn’t sure why he loved that so much, but a grin broke out on his face, blushing as he caught Julie’s gaze.

"Next,” Julie said, snapping Luke back to the present, “I'm going to fight with Luke. He's from Tambor, so this will be new." She nodded, and he obeyed, practically floating over to her.

As Julie stepped into fighting position, Luke winked, quite pleased with himself for flustering her, then struck. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get the upper hand. Julie took advantage of his opportunistic nature, when he left himself vulnerable as he attacked, she struck back with twice the confidence.

Soon, though, he tripped. As he lost his balance, Julie spun upside down and tripped him. Luke’s back hit the ground and he let out a gentle “oof,” but couldn’t recover before Julie was on top of him. Luke was extremely aware of the way her leg pinned his hips down to the mat, the way her shoulders moved as she breathed evenly but quickly, the way her hand curled into a fist as she grabbed his collar and pulled her other arm backwards to finish. He tried to move his arms, but the way she’d positioned her torso made it impossible for him to defend his head from her possible blow. He was completely at the mercy of this girl, trusting her not to strike with finality, but not trusting his own unruly heart to steady as he found himself lost in her eyes.

But then, because the universe hated him, Julie winked. His breath caught in his throat and he flushed bright red.

For a moment, the world seemed to still. Luke was acutely aware of the shine of her dark skin, the single loose curl by her ear, the confident smirk on her face. But just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Julie got up, extending her arm, which Luke took. Everywhere her hand touched left tingles on his forearm.

“Nice job!” she told him. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, I just got my ass kicked and you didn’t even break a sweat.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew you were awesome, but I didn’t know you were a human wrecking ball.” Of course, when Julie blushed, he felt a surge of confidence and accomplishment.

“I- well, I don’t-”

“He’s right,” Carrie insisted. You were awesome.” Luke grinned and nodded, reaching over to high-five her.

“Okay, trainees,” called Lady Athena. “Pair up and spar. If you want, spot the other and try the move. I’ll be hovering to make sure nobody gets hurt.” She clapped her hands with finality, and the trainees did as they were told. “The rest of you,” she added, directed at Luke and the Badasses, “practice while you can. Oh, Julie, I want you to practice with Luke today. See if you can work out some similarities and differences between Dahlian and Tamborian fighting styles.”

Oh.

Fuck.

How the hell was Luke going to survive sparring with Julie multiple times, purely for practice and not staged? He wouldn’t be able to go one minute without completely losing it every time she looked at him.

Luke noticed Carrie, Mira, and Flynn all giving him a look that made him fidget. It turned out he was the opposite of subtle. And as Reggie walked towards them, a knowing smirk on his face as well, Luke knew he was dead. He quickly tried to compose himself.

“Alright, boss,” he said after a moment. “Ready to kick my ass?” Julie laughed, and Luke could’ve listened to that sound for the rest of his life.

“Let’s do it.”

Luke struck first, a playful grin on his face. Julie quickly deflected, twisting his arm and twirling behind him, causing Luke’s heart to flutter. It didn’t last long, though, because then she was shoving the backs of his knees and pinning him as he fell down, kneeling hunched over with her holding his wrists behind his back.

“That’s one for me!” She laughed as he groaned. Way to humiliate yourself, Patterson.

“Damn, and to think I ever thought I was good at hand-to-hand.” Luke took her arm, letting her help him up. An idea formed in his head, a cruel one, but it would work. He had to quickly hide the grin on his face. “Wait, I want to try that spinny move thing.” As Julie stepped back. Luke smirked to himself, hopping forward and purposely falling during the spin. It wasn’t like he needed to try to fall, though; that move was impossible.

“Gah, my wrist!” He feigned injury, but his heart still fluttered as Julie rushed over to him. She cared.

But, he couldn’t play nice. He grinned and quickly took her arm, pulling her down to the ground and flipping on top of her. Luke pinned her shoulders, shooting her a cocky grin, but ignoring the look on her face. It was so soft and surprised, but playful and… he daresay impressed.

“And that’s one for me.”

“That wouldn’t work in a real fight, you know,” she informed Luke as she rolled out from under him. She wasn’t humiliated, as far as he could tell, which was probably a good thing. Humiliating the heiress to the Dahlian throne wasn’t a great idea. But her cheeks were darkened with a blush, and she was certainly flustered. Luke patted himself on the back.

“Oh, I know,” he said calmly. “It’s just fun to annoy you.” He could’ve sworn she blushed even more, but she looked away too quickly for him to confirm.

“Alright, rematch,” she decided, her voice confident. Luke nodded, and Julie hopped into fighting position. Luke did the same, noting how adorable it was as she bounced on the balls of her feet, before striking. She moved quickly and unpredictably, but when Luke dodged a hit to his shoulder and she hopped forward, he knew what was coming. He leaned backwards and, as her legs swept underneath his ankles, he jumped and avoided the killer move.

As he avoided her spin, he noticed Julie trying to recover as quickly as she could, but she stumbled, and Luke quickly took advantage of that. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around almost like a ballroom dance, and then holding her back against his chest, his arm pinning her shoulders. He felt his own heartbeat against her back, her rapid breathing making her shoulder blades prick his stomach.

“I win,” he whispered, a grin on his face- one that was quickly replaced with a look of shock when Julie reached up and grabbed his wrist, leaning forwards and throwing him to the floor upside down. As his back hit the ground, he let out a soft “oof” and didn’t get the chance to move before Julie was on top of him, flattening her body over his to make sure he couldn’t move and pinning his shoulders with her forearm. He knew he’d lost the fight, but currently he was more interested in the quirked eyebrow on her face, the shine of sweat on her forehead, and how very close they were.

“Actually, I win.”

…

Luke stood in the shower, letting the cool water wash over him. He normally took warm showers, even after working out, but today he needed the familiar feeling of cold shivers down his spine. There was something about Julie that made him so warm, like he’d known her his whole life. Julie was like the feeling of a sip of warm cocoa on a winter day, like sunlight peeking over the mountaintops. She was intriguing, so complicated and layered, like a mystery that he desperately wanted to solve. Luke couldn’t piece together just why she had that effect on him, though he had a few ideas.

Quickly drying himself off, he changed into a lightweight guard uniform. It was more of a casual suit than a uniform; the guardsmen dress codes in Dahlia weren’t nearly as strict as they were in Tambor. They were more focused on abilities rather than looking like guards. So long as you looked respectable, that was enough.

The cool fabric of the white dress shirt felt good against his skin, and the heather grey vest was a light pressure, keeping him secure. The matching jacket was tailored to a slim fit, but, given that he was a guard, there were also sheaths built into the inside, with simple but deadly daggers within them.

If he was being honest, Luke hated carrying weapons. He felt cool, sure, but he still hated it. No matter how well they were hidden - and well hidden they were; not even the outlines were visible from the outside - he always knew they were there. That, even though they should be safe, there was always a possibility. A possibility that he might end up using one of the cruel blades strapped to his chest.

…

When he walked into Alex’s room from his quarters across the hall, his best friend was sprawled out on his bed, a dopey grin spread across his face. Luke immediately knew he’d been with Willie.

“How was your date?”

“He tried to teach me how to skateboard,” he said. Luke grinned to himself. That was the cutest thing ever. “I almost fell but he-” Luke gasped, knowing his best friend’s disaster-gay-levels well enough to know where this was going.

“No way. Did he catch you?”

“Twice.” Luke squealed, bringing his hands to his cheeks. Alex was getting a classic boyfriend meet-cute and pining stage. It was like something out of a romance novel.

“Well, dude, you know it’s your turn to ask him out, right?” Luke laughed, practically feeling Alex’s nervousness, which was confirmed when Alex bolted upright.

“What do you mean?” Luke snorted. Dumbass.

“I know you weren’t the one to ask him out today. That means it’s your turn to find him and ask him out for another little outing.”

“Fuck.” Luke could see the thoughts running a million miles an hour in his friend’s head, and soon he would be spiraling into gay panic and anxiety.

“I’ll let you deal with that,” Luke said with a laugh.

“Yeah. In the meantime, though, how was self-defense?” Luke didn’t bother hiding the huge grin that spread across his face as he remembered his time with Julie.

“Amazing. I got there early since you and Reggie were being assholes-”

“Love you too.”

“-But it turned out she was there early as well. Well, her and her friends. She has this super badass move where she jumps and lands on one fucking hand and spins twice, tripping you backwards and then pinning you, and she was teaching it to the trainees. Holy fuck, Alex, I don’t know how she does it. And she did it in slow motion!” He raked a hand through his hair. “She was going to demonstrate the move in fights with Mira, Flynn, and Carrie, and I asked if I could join the trainees to learn the move, because of course I did, and then she said that I ‘technically wasn’t a trainee,’ but then offered to let me be one of the demonstrative opponents.”

“And I’m guessing that went well?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “And then, when the trainees were practicing, Lady Athena paired us for the rest of the session, so I got to spar with her.”

“Oooooh!” Luke gave a light punch in mock offense, but he was still glowing.

“Bro, she’s amazing.”

“I can see that.” Luke ignored the shit-eating grin on Alex’s face.

A knock rang on the door, and Luke straightened, looking at Alex as he stood up.

“Come in.” When King Ray walked in, Luke hastily bowed.

“Your majesty, is everything alright?” Alex asked.

“It’s okay, mijos, there’s no need to bow. You are needed in the royal office. Well, technically only Alex, but Luke should come too.” Luke nodded as Ray looked at him. “And put on something respectable but comfortable. It might be a long night.” With that, Ray left, leaving the two of them there.

Something was wrong.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Suit vest long abandoned, sleeves messily rolled up, Reggie fiddled with the stim toy in his pocket, humming to himself as he wandered the long expanse of the Dahlian palace gardens, letting the different scents envelop him. Sometimes this would’ve pushed him into sensory overload, with all of the overlapping smells from the flowers, the sound of chirping birds, bright sunlight, breeze and stim toy, but today it just felt right. He hummed a familiar melody to himself, trying to place it as he wandered, spinning around and occasionally dancing with his steps.

His lips moved to words before he knew it, and he was finally able to place the song: Wake Up. Julie had written it with Rose before she passed away. A sad smile quirked the corners of her mouth. It had been a few years since it happened, but a pang of grief still struck Reggie’s heart. He’d lived at the palace since he was nine, and Rose had become like a mother to him. For seven years she’d raised him like one of her own, a kind, gentle woman. She was the one who taught him to play the bass, too.

Reggie missed her. But Julie looked just like her, and she was so strong, his chest still swelled with pride every time he looked at her. And her voice, her music, it was like Rose in every way, and yet so uniquely Julie.

The lyrics to Wake Up were so inspirational that, even when humming to himself in the gardens, they still brought the familiar prickle of tears to his eyes.

Better wake those demons // Just look them in the eye // No reason not to try

Those lines in particular were the most powerful to him. They were the lines that helped him confront his grief after Rose had passed away, and the ones that made his heart grow and ache every time Julie sang them.

Reggie sighed, letting the memory of Rose wash over him, both melancholy and bright. Every step was filled with happiness and longing, but he knew that if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be the person he was today. He might’ve still lived in the palace with Julie, sure; it was Ray who had found him and taken him in. But Rose had guided his love for music with Julie.

As he danced around the garden, a strong breeze whipped his hair. He noticed something flying towards him - a leaf, probably. But as he saw it flutter against the wind, he realized that it was a butterfly.

Without thinking, he reached up, letting the butterfly stop against his palm. He shielded it from the wind with his other hand, letting it regain its balance. He giggled as it crawled across his finger, the faint tickling sensation like dandelion wisps on his nose in the Summer. Then, the butterfly took flight against the wind, this time able to push back and fly.

…

Reggie, after finding his suit vest draped across a rosebush, wandered through the corridor to Alex’s room. He, Alex, and Luke had become close friends in the past week. Something about the three of them just clicked.

He knocked on the door in a rhythmic pattern that matched with the song stuck in his head, sauntering in, the word treason filling his ears. A grin spread across his face; he knew exactly what the treason was.

“Well,” Luke began, “the arranged marriage was already a major fuck-up on the council’s decision. We could add in some treason to the mix. Just for funsies.” Reggie nodded. He might’ve been seen as a goody-two-shoes to some people, but he wasn’t opposed to breaking some rules.

“You just want to hang out with Julie, don’t you?” Alex asked. Luke flushed, and Reggie grinned.

“Called it,” he said.

“Oh come on, you too?”

“Dude,” Reggie began. “I love you, but you’re not exactly subtle.” Luke pouted, and Alex cracked up. “You, on the other hand,” Reggie added, “I’m not sure who your treasonous crush is.” He knew Alex was gay, but there weren’t any guys he knew of that he would like.

“A baker named Willie,” Luke interjected before Alex could reply. “And I still haven’t heard the story of how you met, I might add.” Alex groaned, and Reggie clapped. A baker. That was so cliche, but so adorable. He could already see the wedding.

“I assume there’s no way I’m getting out of this?”

“Not a chance,” Luke and Reggie replied in unison, and Reggie high-fived him without looking. Alex groaned.

“So, you remember the feast the night I got here? I was kinda overwhelmed so I stepped out the back door, and this guy just fuckin… Ran me over.” Reggie laughed.

“He pancaked you!”

“Exactly that. Anyway, that happened and I kinda froze because he was really cute. And eventually we were just… Chatting. And I can’t fucking get him out of my mind and now I’m royally fucked because this is treason.”

“Well, like I said, I’m always down for a little treason,” Reggie repeated. “And might I add, that is adorable!!!”

“I know, right?” Luke asked, grinning at Reggie. He nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s an adorable, treasonous meet-cute!!! I swear, this is like something out of a romance novel.”

“That’s what I thought!!!”

“You two are the worst,” Alex informed them.

“You love us,” Reggie said with a grin.

“Unfortunately.”

“Now, Luke. What’s this I hear about some more treasonous feelings for a certain Princess Julie Molina?” Reggie poked his friend in the ribs, laughing when his blush went all the way to his ears.

“Uh, well, it’s not really feelings, plus, I doubt Reggie wants to hear about hypothetical feelings someone might have for his sister.”

“Wrong,” Reggie said. “I want to know everything.” There was no way he was getting away with crushing on his sister without Reggie doing some well-meaning meddling. He didn’t mind that Luke liked Julie, of course. He was a nice guy, and Julie clearly liked him as well. But, Luke was also one of his best friends, and therefore required to spill.

“See, I would explain, but the self-defense class starts in a minute-”

“Thirty,” Reggie corrected.

“Like I said, it starts in a minute, so I’d better run.” Without another word, he bolted out the door.

“You can’t keep running from your feelings forever,” Alex called to Luke.

“No, but I can run from you two goons!” Reggie cracked up, along with Alex.

“Simp,” Reggie declared.

“Definitely.”

“Hey, you mentioned you play drums, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex said with a smile. “And you play… bass?”

“Yep! There’s a recording studio in the basement, you want to go play?”

“I’d love to! Luke keeps getting on my case because I tap on the desk when I’m working through sim files.” Reggie nodded. It was understandable for him as well; even though he wasn’t a drummer, he had ADHD, and sim files were such a pain. They were cool, sure; they were files in which you developed a country similar to Dahlia, and there were social issues, economic questions, political queries, all of which would affect how your practice country developed, even with the details of foreign relations. Reggie wasn’t bad at them, per se, but it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t becoming king. He always got distracted, and while he was quite good at it, especially diplomacy, it just wasn’t what he wanted to do. And it wasn’t a matter of ADHD, either. Julie had ADD. She was just better at it, maybe because she’d been raised for it since birth, and Reggie had lived here for a considerably short time compared to her.

His most recent sim file was on economic development, concerning poverty, disproportionate wealth, and tax rates. Dahlian wealth was relatively evenly distributed; much better than some countries. But he just didn’t like the way the sim files were set up.

…

“Dude, this is sick!” Alex’s enthusiasm was practically tangible, and Reggie smiled.

“I know, right? Just be careful not to touch the handshake prank things on the shelf,” he added, pointing to a small stash. “They’re Carlos’s. One time he added some static electricity and zapped me, and it felt just like the time I was fixing my amp in the rain.”

“You shouldn’t… Okay.”

“Anyway, how do you like the drums?” Alex played a rhythm on the bass, snare, and hi-hat, grinning.

“They’re awesome,” he decided. “In a lot better shape than my set back in Tambor. I’ve had them since I was seven, and they’re pretty beat-up.”

“Oof,” Reggie said. “These are a bit old, but none of us are any good at playing, so they’re just like new!”

Reggie hopped across the room to grab his bass, strapping it around his shoulders and playing a riff. It started with a slide down the A string, and when he began adding more notes, Alex joined in with a rhythm. Reggie gasped.

“Alex, that sounds perfect!” When Alex gave him a confused look, Reggie realized he hadn’t given context. “Julie and I have been writing a song called Icarus, and trying to learn the drums to add in a beat, but that riff I was playing was the baseline for it, right? That beat you were just playing sounded perfect. Dude, we gotta get Jules in here later. She’s gonna be pumped.” Alex grinned.

“That sounds awesome, dude! What’s the song like?”

“It’s pretty upbeat,” Reggie started. “It’s got a sort of inspirational vibe to it. The guitar we’re trying to add has kind of a rock and roll sound, but not metal. I’m trying to figure out how to play it, but I always strum wrong since I’m so used to bass.” He laughed, remembering how he’d tried to strum with the outside of his index finger.

“No way,” Alex said. Reggie gave him a confused look. “Luke plays guitar. He’s insane at it, too. What if the four of us played it? You on the bass, me on drums, Luke on guitar, and Julie on piano and vocals?”

“And you, Luke and I could be backup vocals! Alex, you’re a genius. We’ll be Julie’s Beyonce girls.”

“Yeah, okay.” Reggie grinned. This would be perfect. He just needed to get Julie and Julie’s Future Treasonous Boyfriend (Luke) to join them in the studio later.

…

Self-defense was interesting to say the least. Reggie had the honor of watching his little sister teach a bunch of nervous trainees a move that, if he was being honest, was impossible to do for anybody but Julie. He only caught the last demonstrative round, though, which proved to be just as entertaining as watching her whole teaching session would be.

Why? Well, because she was sparring with Luke. The tension was tangible as they ducked and dodged and struck, and as Julie ended up on top of him, his collar in her fist, a confident smirk on her face, Reggie grinned to himself at how oblivious they both were. They oozed chemistry.

He approached as Lady Athena instructed the trainees to pair up and practice, and luckily caught the flustered and excited look on both Luke’s and Julie’s faces when Lady Athena paired them for sparring. He shot a knowing look at them as he paired with Mira to spar.

They made idle conversation as they practiced, occasionally interrupted by a quick “duck” as the other sent a strike their way.

“Did you know your sister was this oblivious?” Mira asked him. Reggie laughed.

“Nope, though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She has a habit of ignoring things she doesn’t like, which probably includes treasonous emotions.” Mira laughed, and Reggie took advantage of it, flipping her over and pinning her, winning the match, laughing as she rolled her eyes but took his hand, pulling her up.

“Believe me, I know,” Mira said. “She once got a sim file from a nearby sim country in her foreign relations packet that was questioning the ethics of her country on LGBTQ matters, and she just ignored it because it annoyed her.” Reggie snorted. That did sound like Julie.

Twisting around Mira’s next attack, but quickly regretting it as she hooked her ankle around his knee, knocking him over and winning, Reggie wondered if he could somehow set them up.

“Hey, Mira?”

“Mhm?”

“You know how one of your jobs as Julie’s lady-in-waiting is to help arrange her outfits?” Mira nodded, a smirk growing on her face.

“Say no more.” Reggie grinned. Reggie was his name, and meddling was his game.

…

Reggie was working on a new riff for the bridge of Icarus when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he called, still bent over his notebook, scrawling down notes as he hummed.

“Hey, mijo?” Reggie whirled around to see Ray. He smiled.

“Hi Ray! Everything okay?”

“Not exactly, but I’ll explain that later. We need you in the royal office. I’ve already been to see Julie, Luke, and Alex, they’re coming as well. Just… It might be a long night, so put on something respectable but comfortable.”

“Okay,” Reggie agreed, concerned. “Did something happen?” Ray bit his lip nervously and nodded, walking away without another word.

-----

Willie POV

...

“Hey, Alyssa, how’s that dough looking?” Willie asked from across the kitchen, where he was gathering ingredients for the Hawaiian style shredded chicken.

“Almost done rising,” she called back. “Probably needs about five more minutes.”

“Awesome, thanks!”

“Yep!”

Willie gathered the ingredients in his arms, doing his best not to poke his eye out with the leaves of the pineapple. As he reached his counter, he set down the huge fruit, spreading out the other ingredients, many of them spices. He grabbed a knife from the block behind him, chopping the leaves off of the pineapple, then spinning it as he scalped the rough, pointy skin off as well. He chopped the rest into small pieces and brought them to Alyssa, who was in front of a large slow cooker with chicken inside. He set the bowl down on the counter, nodding from her thanks and running back to the dough, separating and rolling it to create rolls, sticking them in the oven.

“Willie, why don’t you go on break,” Lilian suggested. Willie jumped; Lilian walked silently, and she’d appeared right behind him.

“You’ve been working really hard today,” she added. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good! Thanks.” It was the truth, he was fine. But he was working extra hard today because, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep Alex off his mind. He always worked best when he had something else to think about; the actions practically did themselves. He hadn’t even realized how much he was doing.

“I think I’ll take you up on that break,” he decided. “Be back in an hour or so?” Lilian nodded, patting his shoulder.

“Relax, child.”

“Who are you calling ‘child?’” he asked. “You’re only twenty-five.”

“And you’re nineteen. You’re a child.” Willie rolled his eyes but laughed.

“See you later!”

…

As he ran out the door, leaving his apron swinging on a hook, who would he see but Alex? A grin broke out on his face and, despite his better judgement, he called out to him (after he’d settled his blush, of course).

“Hey there, your royal pancakeness!” He called, butterflies rising in his stomach as Alex looked his way.

“Hey, Willie! How’s it going?”

“Pretty good! Just got on break. You okay?” He asked, noticing the nervousness in Alex’s (beautiful) eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Alex assured him. “Just walking.”

“Cool.” He fixed his hair, flipping it away from his shoulders. “You sure? You look a little dazed.”

I am too, but that’s just because you’re adorable.

“Just a little tired, I guess.” The lie was a classic one, and Willie saw right through it. He could tell that Alex didn’t want to talk about it, though so he left it alone. He always hated having people up in his business.

“Well, make sure you get some sleep tonight,” he told him. “In the meantime, I’m off to skate a little. You wanna come?”

Willie wasn’t sure if Alex would say yes, no, or just walk away laughing. Skateboarding wasn’t something you would expect a prince to do.

But then, Alex replied, “I’d love to,” and Willie’s grin stretched even wider, dearly hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Sick! Follow me.”

He led Alex down the back of the corridor, thankful that Alex was behind him, because that meant he could let his gay panic show on his face without letting the person causing it know. His long hair blocked his jaw from view, as well, so he was confident that Alex was oblivious to the fact that Willie was currently aggressively mouthing cute boy cute boy cute boy.

Willie took Alex’s hand, grinning when Alex smiled. He brought him out the back door, into the streaming sunlight and to the park in the gardens. Hardly anybody knew of its existence, which was just how Willie liked it. He’d been given permission to skate there, and never once had he seen another person there. Bringing Alex there felt strange, but right. This had become Willie’s area, where he would go to get away from people when he needed to, and now he was letting Alex in. He wasn’t quite sure what compelled him to do it, but he was glad he did.

Willie shot him a glance, getting on the skateboard and flying down the sidewalks, jumping over metal rails and benches. He did a quick kickflip after he landed, skating back around the roundabout, his grin wide as ever as he made his way back to Alex.

“Want to try?”

“Oh, no,” Alex replied, “I’ve never actually skateboarded before, and I’m pretty sure I’d just look stupid.”

“You’ve never skated before?” Willie’s eyebrows knit together. He wasn’t necessarily surprised, given that Alex was a prince, but still, every boy he’d ever met had skateboarded.

“Not once.”

“Well, there’s an easy way to fix that,” Willie said with a grin, extending his hand as he stepped off the skateboard. His heart fluttered as Alex reluctantly took it, his hand cold but soft as he held on, stepping on.

But before he could say anything, Alex was stepping onto it lopsidedly, and Willie instinctively ran around behind him, his hands bracing Alex’s shoulders as he fell. Willie had rather large hands, and as his thumbs stretched to his back, he felt Alex’s racing heartbeat. He knew it was because he’d almost fallen off of a skateboard, but he couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Alex said. “I-

“No, bro, you’re good! Just glad I caught you,” Willie said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, and Willie tried (and failed) to calm his blush. He noticed a few freckles across Alex’s nose, barely there, like stars in the sky just after sunset.

“Okay, let’s try this again.” Willie outstretched his hand again, and grinned when Alex took it, stepping on steadily, squeezing his hand.

He liked this, holding hands with Alex. He could imagine doing this every day, casual affection, maybe playing with his hair-

No. He shoved those thoughts out of his head. Alex was in an arranged marriage. To get in the way of that would be treason. Plus, Willie didn’t even know if Alex liked guys.

“I did it!” Alex exclaimed, a grin on his face as he stood on the skateboard. Willie broke out into a huge smile, his chest swelling with pride. Alex was a nerd, but he was his nerd.

“Hell yeah, dude! Want me to push you so you move?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Understandable, have a nice day.” Willie and Alex both cracked up, tears in his eyes. But he heard wobbling, and soon he was catching Alex right in front of him as he fell. Willie leaned back, stopping himself from falling on his back, but the main thing on his mind was how close he and Alex were. Their chests were pressed together, and Willie could barely tell whose racing heartbeat was his. He was close enough to count Alex’s long eyelashes, close enough to...

It was a nice thought, but it would never happen.

Willie’s arms were wrapped around Alex’s waist, holding him steady as he stood up straighter, but not letting go. He held his gaze, steadying his breath, lost in Alex’s eyes. They were a mixture of blue, green, and grey, light but mysterious and beautiful, like frost on a garden, twinkling in moonlight. Without meaning to, his eyes flicked to Alex’s lips for a split second, and Willie could’ve sworn Alex’s did the same.

Finally, Alex cleared his throat and stepped back. Willie wasn’t surprised, but he was disappointed. He liked holding Alex like that.

“Sorry, I kinda… Fell.” Willie cracked up at the bluntness.

“Yeah, I caught that. No pun intended.” He hated himself for the pun, but all of the hate was replaced with love when Alex let out a snort.

“That,” he said through giggles, “was so bad.” Willie blushed but laughed too, caught up in the mirth in Alex's eyes. He looked so young, laughing like this, free and happy. And when he’d finally composed himself, his cheeks were rosy from laughter, small lines around his eyes.

It was official: Willie was smitten.

-----

Julie POV

...

Julie groaned.

It had been an entire week, and all of her interactions with Luke were minimal and cordial, but there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t shake. Every time he bowed, his eyes would flick up to meet hers, every time he smiled, they would crinkle and smile with his lips. Julie couldn’t get rid of these stupid feelings, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she told herself that she was literally about to commit treason every time she was tempted to act.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve groaned in the past ten minutes,” Flynn pointed out. “Care to tell us what’s going on?”

“Jules, we know something’s wrong. You can try to hide it all you want, but that won’t change it.” Carrie examined her perfect nails, which were painted gold and shimmered in the light.

“I don’t know,” she lied. Flynn and Carrie shared a look.

“Alright, what’s his name?” Julie bolted upright from her spot on her bed, flushed.

“What do you mean?” Her two friends shared another look and laughed.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Carrie told her, “you know that?” Julie groaned a fifth time.

“So I’ll ask again,” Flynn decided. “What’s his name?” When Julie stayed silent, she added, “dude. You know that if anyone’s down for a little treason, it’s us.” She wasn’t wrong, and Julie knew that. Flynn was ride-or-die, Carrie too. Neither of them would hesitate before committing war crimes if it meant helping Julie, and she didn’t take that for granted. She was still emotional about it, though.

“You know Alex’s guard, Luke?”

“The one who was showering you in compliments at self-defense last week?” Flynn asked, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“He complimented me once, Flynn.”

“Tell yourself whatever you need to.”

“I think I will.”

Carrie snorted. “Jules, you clearly like him. Make a move!”

“Carrie,” Julie said calmly. “I say this with love. Are you out of your mind?”

“I mean, probably.” Flynn cracked up and Carrie’s perfect face had a smug little smile that pissed Julie off. She flopped back down.

“This whole thing sucks.”

“You’re not wrong,” Flynn agreed, though she still had a grin on her face. “You know what would help?”

“Treason?” Carrie suggested.

“Nope! Well, yes, but I was going to say getting ready for self-defense. Lady Athena wanted us to go early today, remember?”

Unfortunately, Julie did remember, and she was dreading it. Lady Athena had asked if she could practice her upside-down move some more, and then show it to the training guards, plus a demonstrative spar with each of the other three girls to show how to use it against different fighting styles.

Before she could respond, Mira walked in, piles of fabric in her arms.

“Who’s ready to go?” She asked enthusiastically. “I just had these tailored,” she said, putting down the fabric, which turned out to be matching athletic clothes. Soft, high-waisted capris leggings, with matching tops that were slim-fitting and cropped at the ribs. The halter neckline was gentle and hemmed, nothing fancy or tied.

“They should be nice and cool so you don’t get too sweaty,” Mira explained, “and they’re form-fitting to make movement easier.” She handed a set to Julie, violet in color. Carrie’s was hot pink, and Flynn’s was jade green. Mira wore a sky blue set.

“Mira, have I mentioned that you’re the best lady-in-waiting ever?” Julie asked, a huge grin spreading on her face.

“Not in the last five minutes.”

…

As she walked into the training arena, flanked by Flynn, Mira, and Carrie, Julie pulled her hair into a ponytail, giving Lady Athena a grin.

“Alright, ready to show these guys how it’s done?” she asked confidently, her bronze skin shimmering in the light. Julie nodded. Lady Athena patted Julie’s shoulder and turned back to the group of about twenty young people, ranging from about thirteen to twenty, of all genders. She scanned the eyes, recognizing some of them from her previous self-defense classes, before she stopped on a pair of hazel ones.

Luke wasn’t with the group of trainees, rather standing on the sidelines. Without thinking, Julie approached him.

“Hey Luke!” His cheeks flushed.

“Hey, Julie, what’s up?”

“Not much,” she replied. “Just came early because Lady Athena wanted me to show the trainees my upside-down move.” She fidgeted, tightening her ponytail. “Why are you here? The main session doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” he said with a shy laugh. “Alex and Reggie were giving me shit for… something, and I decided to escape.” Julie caught his slip, but didn’t say anything.

“That’s valid.”

“Julie?” Called Lady Athena. “You ready?”

“That’s my cue,” she said, hopping away and over to stand next to the coach. Her eyes travelled to Flynn, Carrie, and Mira, who were standing behind the eager trainees, all giving her The Look and glancing at Luke. Julie gave them a quick death stare, before going back to smiling at the trainees.

“Okay, everyone,” Lady Athena called, quieting the chatter amongst the group. “Princess Julie is here to show us a new move she came up with. We haven’t come up for it yet, have we?”

“No, not yet,” Julie responded. “But I’m working on it. Oh, and you can all call me Julie.”

“Right. So, Julie here is going to demonstrate the move, first on her own, then with a few other people she’s brought, to show how it works against different fighting styles. Julie?”

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands nervously. “So, the first thing is knowing when to do it. You generally do it when your opponent has you in a position where you have to lean forward.” She demonstrated, bending a bit forward. “Then, you jump, land on your hand - and it’s important that it’s the hand that matches the direction you’re facing. If you lean forward to the right, your opponent’s left, you jump on your right hand, and vice versa. Then, you spin by using momentum in your hips. This is mostly to distract them. Then, after the initial spin, you spin again, but rather than upright, you bend your elbow, lean like this-” she went through the previous moves then leaned to the side, putting down her leg to hold herself in the same position- “and spin, swinging your legs behind your opponent’s ankles to trip them backwards.” She demonstrated that bit as well, as slow as she could while still doing it correctly. “Then once they’re down, you use your spinning momentum to get on top of them and finish the fight.”

As she stood back up, she noted the confused or scared looks on the trainees’ faces, as well as an approving smile from Lady Athena and silent applause from Flynn, Mira, and Carrie- and Luke. At some point during her demonstration, he’d made his way over to her friends, and they were quietly chatting as she moved.

“That looks really hard,” one of the trainees piped up, “but super badass.” If there was a way to verbally keysmash, Julie did it.

“Thanks so much!!! Though I should tell you, the first time I did it was completely by accident, and I sprained my wrist doing the initial spin. Afterwards, the only reason I tried it again was because Flynn bet me I couldn’t.” She shot a glance at her best friend, and her smirk and nod make her laugh. “But eventually,” she continued, “Lady Athena saw me trying to do it and gave me some tips, and one thing led to another, and here we are.”

After a few moments of stunned silence, Lady Athena spoke.

“Okay, Julie, why don’t you get some water, and we’ll do the demonstrations with opponents?”

“Sounds good.” She spun on her heel, jogging over to her friends, ignoring the butterflies as she caught Luke’s eye.

“Dude, I don’t know how you managed to do that spin in slow motion,” Mira told her. Julie laughed.

“Practice and good core strength.” She sat down on the bench, Mira by her side.

“Hey, uh, Julie?” asked Luke. She was guzzling water, so she hummed a questioning tone. “Would it be okay if I joined them and tried to learn the move?” he asked, gesturing his head to the group of preparing trainees. Julie put down her water bottle, smirking, a sudden bubble of confidence welling up inside her.

“Technically, you’re not a trainee. But, you could be one of the demonstrative opponents if you want to,” she offered. “I’m supposed to show how the move works against different fighting styles, and I think a Tamborian fighting style would add some variety,” she reasoned, ignoring Carrie’s eyebrow wiggle from behind Luke.

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded with a grin.

“Sounds good, boss.” Julie flushed at the nickname.

…

As she sparred with Carrie, she spoke between her moves.

"See, Carrie fights like a dancer. She's graceful and quick-" she dodged a blow from the girl, taking the opportunity to jump on her hand and twist, spinning and quickly tripping Carrie- "but not quick enough. No opponent is going to expect you to pull a breakdancing move on them." As she got on top of Carrie, pressing her elbow across her shoulders and pinning her down, a grin spread across her face.

Julie got up and extended her hand to Carrie, who took her forearm and Julie took hers, pulling her up.

Mira was up next. She jumped into a fighting position, her flaming red hair swinging behind her. Julie smirked, making the first blow.

"Mira, on the other hand, fights like a ninja. She's lithe and graceful, but deadly." Julie leaned forward, spinning on her hand and tripping Mira, quickly pouncing over her to win, before helping her up again. Next, Flynn.

Flynn made the first move, striking near Julie's shoulder, she bolted out of the way, turning to strike back.

"Flynn is catlike when she fights," Julie explained, dodging another blow. "She's light on her feet and quick, with amazing reflexes. However-" she jumped and spun on her hand, tripping Flynn and ending the fight- "it turns out, cats don't always land on their feet." She shot Flynn a wink.

She glanced at Luke, whose cheeks were bright red, but he had a confident smile on his face. Julie grinned.

"Next I'm going to fight with Luke. He's from Tambor, so this will be new." She gestured with a quick nod for him to come over.

As Julie stepped into fighting position, Luke winked. Julie ignored the butterflies in her stomach, overwhelmed with confidence as Luke struck. She dodged and blocked, striking back any chance she had.

Luke was surprisingly competent, but very opportunistic, which Julie took advantage of. As he lost his balance, she spun upside down and tripped him, quickly using her momentum to get on top of him, pinning his hips with her leg. She grabbed his collar and pulled her fist back in a final move, but froze. It was just training, after all.

Now it was Julie's turn to wink, which seemed to fluster Luke even more.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before Julie got up, outstretching her hand to Luke. He took her forearm and she took his, pulling him up.

“Nice job!” she told him.

“Oh, please, I just got my ass kicked and you didn’t even break a sweat.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew you were awesome, but I didn’t know you were a human wrecking ball.” Julie flushed, stammering.

“I- well, I don’t-”

“He’s right,” Carrie insisted. You were awesome.” And God, Julie wished Luke hadn’t grinned at Carrie’s agreement, because he had the cutest eyes ever. Honestly, it should’ve been illegal. Her first order of business when she was crowned queen would be to make it illegal to fluster her.

“Okay, trainees,” called Lady Athena. “Pair up and spar. If you want, spot the other and try the move. I’ll be hovering to make sure nobody gets hurt.” She clapped her hands with finality, and the trainees did as they were told. “The rest of you,” she added, directed at Julie and her group, “practice while you can. Oh, Julie, I want you to practice with Luke today. See if you can work out some similarities and differences between Dahlian and Tamborian fighting styles.”

Julie nodded, ignoring the way her heart pounded, ignoring how Luke started fidgeting, and especially ignoring the incredibly annoying looks from Mira, Flynn, Carrie, and Reggie, who had just popped in to join.

Digest those butterflies, Molina. D i g e s t t h e m.

“Alright, boss,” Luke said after a moment. “Ready to kick my ass?” Julie laughed.

“Let’s do it.”

Luke struck first, a playful grin on his face. Julie quickly deflected, twisting his arm and twirling behind him, gently (since it was training, and he was cute) shoving the backs of his knees and pinning him as he fell down, kneeling hunched over with Julie holding his wrists behind his back.

“That’s one for me!” She laughed as he groaned.

“Damn, and to think I ever thought I was good at hand-to-hand,” he said with a grin. Julie blushed and helped him up. “Wait, I want to try that spinny move thing.” Julie stepped back, letting Luke jump onto his hand, but as soon as he spun, he fell.

“Gah, my wrist!” Julie rushed over to where Luke was now sitting, reaching out to help him-

Then, that little shit grinned and grabbed her arm, pulling her down and spinning on top of her, pinning her shoulders.

He shot her a cocky grin. “And that’s one for me.” Julie rolled her eyes, hating the way her heart was fluttering.

“That wouldn’t work in a real fight, you know.” She rolled out from under him, fixing her hair.

“Oh, I know,” he said in a relaxed manner. “It’s just fun to annoy you.” Julie’s stupid heart fluttered again, and she looked away, sure her face was on fire.

“Alright, rematch.” Luke nodded, and Julie hopped into fighting position. Luke did the same, and Julie didn’t hesitate to strike. She moved quickly, remembering her forms and the movements that Lady Athena had drilled into her since she could walk. She spun, aiming for Luke’s shoulder. When he leaned to the side to dodge, she jumped onto her hand, twirling and tripping him-

Or, she tried to.

Luke had completely jumped over her legs, anticipating the move. She really shouldn’t have been surprised, but it caught her off guard. She tried to recompose herself, but Luke was quicker than he looked, and had grabbed her arm, spinning her with her back against his chest and his forearm across her shoulders, pressing tight enough to prove that he’d won, but not as hard as he would’ve if it were a real fight. If it had been real, his arm would’ve been over her throat, anyways. Julie could feel his heartbeat between her shoulder blades, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“I win,” he said softly, but Julie could hear the shit-eating grin behind the words. She smirked to herself. No way was she going down that easy.

Before Luke could move, she reached with her arm and grabbed his wrist from its place near her collarbone, bending forwards and throwing him over her shoulder. As his back hit the ground, she spun, pressing her forearm against his shoulders and flattening herself over him so he couldn’t move.

“Actually, I win.”

…

“Okay,” Flynn said after everyone had changed and gathered back in Julie’s room. “If you can’t tell by now that Luke is in love with you, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Flynn. He’s not in love with me, nor am I in love with him.” Flynn, Carrie, and Mira all shared a look and laughed. But before Julie could respond, a knock echoed on her door.

“Come in.” Julie smiled as her dad walked into her room. “Hey dad! Everything okay?” she asked when she noticed the crease between his eyebrows.

“Not exactly.”

“Uh oh,” she replied, standing up.

“We need you in the royal office.” Julie’s stomach dropped. “Your friends can come if they would like,” he added, shooting a kind but worried glance at Flynn, Mira, and Carrie, “but this is a tense situation, and they would be required to keep it all classified.”

“We can do that,” Carrie said, a single crease between her brows. Mira and Flynn nodded. Julie couldn’t shake the nervousness in her stomach.

“Did I do something?”

“No, no, don’t worry, mija. Está bien, it’s nothing that you did. But it’s not good. Just… put on something respectable but comfortable. It might be a long night.” He turned to walk out the door, but Julie grabbed his sleeve.

“Papá, ¿qué pasó?” Ray sighed.

“Do you remember Caleb Covington? He’s the king of Krypto.”

“Yeah, but it’s been awhile.” Ray sighed again, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.

“The kingdom of Krypto has declared war on Dahlia.”

#be who you are (no compromise)#blue writes #bwya tag

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cosmic-hearts · 4 years

Text

castles in the air | lee donghyuck | two

lee donghyuck x female reader

genre; enemies-to-lovers, friendship, romance, fluff, angst

warnings; mentions of alcohol and drinking in this chapter!

foreword; in which you might be a real-life princess with a prince promised to you right from the start, but you won’t be getting your happy ever after.

<< previous chapter | next chapter >>

You stand before your wardrobe, faced with yet another clothing dilemma. You love fashion and dressing up, you really do, but sometimes it can be a real pain in the ass.

If this were another soirée or evening function, you’d know exactly what to wear—that gorgeous Isabella Militao dress you’d been saving for a spectacular debut. That would be sure to make jaws drop; it was a gift fashioned by the loving hand of Aphrodite herself.

But you’re going to a high school party, and you don’t think girls turned up in the latest garb fresh off the runways of New York Fashion Week.

You think back to when Donghyuck asked you to go to the party with him (“because we actually need to seem like we’re dating”), and you asked him what to wear. He’d scoffed and you nearly socked him in the face.

“How would I know? Your parents literally own Seoul’s biggest fashion brand. And you’ll look good in whatever.”

If that had been a genuine compliment, you would have been flattered. But it was the tone in which he’d said it, that matter-of-fact, detached voice devoid of any tinge of personal belief or emotion that made it clear he was merely stating a truism, an indisputable fact. He might as well have said that the sky was blue.

You eventually decide on a red sleeveless silk floral dress that stops slightly above mid-thigh. It’s not exactly the most modest article of clothing you own, but it’ll have to do.

When you get in Donghyuck’s car, he doesn’t even glance over to see what you’re wearing, a stark reminder that this clearly isn’t a real date. You on the other hand, can’t help but sneak peeks at his outfit (it’s just the fashionista in you, you swear): a denim jacket thrown over a casual white button-up shirt and dark jeans. A simple look, but surprisingly he makes it work.

You quickly look away before he catches you staring.

He drives in complete silence and before long you reach your destination. Upon entering the house, Donghyuck immediately leaves your side to reunite with five other boys; you have to stand alone for a hot minute and bear witness to the fist bumps, back slaps and bro hugs going all around.

“Who’s this?” One of the boys asks, his blue hair gleaming underneath the faux strobe lights.

You open your mouth to reply, but Donghyuck beats you to it. “My girlfriend. Everyone, this is Y/N.” He sounds like he’s gritting his teeth while introducing you as his girlfriend, which makes you want to laugh; after all, he’s brought this upon himself.

“Hi,” you say, smiling at the boys, “it’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Hi, I’m Jaemin,” the blue-haired boy steps forward and says, flashing you a wide grin that sparks a curious flutter in your chest.

“Did you break up with Sohui?” A brooding, dark-haired boy asks Donghyuck. It’s clear to see that he has none of that chipper energy Jaemin possesses.

Donghyuck’s gaze becomes shifty and he clears his throat awkwardly before replying, “Yeah.”

What a lie.

Before you can think too much about it, Jaemin whisks you all away for a game of spin the bottle. The consequence? 7 minutes in heaven.

You’d heard of the game before but you didn’t think people actually played it at parties; it all seemed so terribly cliche. Looks like you were dead wrong, because once the bottle lands Jaemin and then you everyone’s in an uproar and you’re panicking because you really don’t want to lose your first kiss to a stranger, however hot he may be. Heck, you’d rather do it with Donghyuck; at least he’s a familiar enemy.

Jaemin smirks at you and grabs your wrist, gesturing towards a nearby closet (god, the sheer disgrace you feel, what would your parents say?) and your heart starts thumping in your ribcage, the butterflies from earlier entirely gone. You contemplate breaking out into a sprint for the bathroom or just running out to the garage and driving Donghyuck’s car away into the night. You look over at Donghyuck, hoping that he can read your mind and get you out of this situation (you know he hates you but surely he doesn’t hate you that much), but he’s staring at you with a glazed expression on his face and you can’t believe he’s about to offer you up like a lamb to the slaughter, that asshole—

“I’ll do it instead,” Donghyuck suddenly stands and grabs your free hand, tugging you away from Jaemin. Without waiting for his response he drags you behind him to the closet, pulls you in and shuts the door with a loud slam.

You release the breath you’d unconsciously been holding and start to sink down onto the cushions littered about in the dark, dank and cramped space, but then you stop short Donghyuck places a hand on your arm. He shrugs off his jacket and shoves it into your hands, whispering, “Your dress.”

When you two are finally seated, his jacket draped over your lap, you ask in a slight whisper, “What do we do now?”

At this, Donghyuck breaks out into a sardonic smile, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “We’re not going to do anything. Don’t forget that I have a girlfriend, and if I kiss you, you might just fall in love with me. Can’t risk that now, can we?”

You try to ignore the way his breath tickles your ear and the fact that it’s not an entirely uncomfortable sensation. You hate the way Donghyuck plays with you like this, as though he’s constantly reminding you that he will never be yours, arranged marriage or not.

You press yourself into your corner of the closet to get as far away as possible from him, before taking out your phone and instinctively scrolling through Twitter, your lifeline—it’s almost like a coping mechanism, the way you try to get lost in your timeline filled with pictures of the Albertine bookstore and 90’s Chanel gowns to try and forget the fact that you’re currently stuck in a musty closet with your childhood enemy. Donghyuck does the same; he pulls out his phone and starts typing rapidly. You figure he’s texting Sohui to complain.

Before long the 7 minutes are up and the boys are pounding on the closet door. You sigh; they sound like ravenous zombies lying in wait to chew you out when you emerge. You’re about to push the door open when Donghyuck puts a hand on your arm; you turn to face him with the most annoyed expression can muster. What now?

Without warning, he reaches behind you and pulls out the scrunchie that’s holding your hair in a high ponytail. You nearly yelp at him in surprise as your hair spills past your shoulders, utterly dishevelled (also, that’s a limited edition Chanel scrunchie right there) but he must have seen it coming because he places his hand over your mouth, quick as a flash. Leaning in close, he whispers in your ear, “We have to look like we just made out, idiot.”

You flash him an angry glare which soon turns into a look of sheer embarrassment as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, a sliver of light through the crack in the closet falling on his now exposed collarbone. You look away hastily, thankful that the darkness obscures the blush creeping up your cheekbones.

He’s about to push open the door when he suddenly hisses, “Shit, I almost forgot the most important thing. I need to get some of your lip gloss off.”

Against your better judgement, you acquiesce. Anything to get out of this literal hellhole.

Closing your eyes, you feel a warm palm on the back of your head and you brace yourself. You feel his thumb running across your bottom lip in one swift but gentle motion, and when you open your eyes he’s swiping it across his own.

The blush in your cheeks intensifies and you look away quickly.

Finally, Donghyuck pushes open the door and a flood of electric purple light streams in. The boys whoop and cheer, and Jaemin invites you to sit next to him. You happily do so, desiring to be in the proximity of anyone other than Donghyuck—you might just combust with embarrassment if you sat next to him after that horrendous episode.

“Are you good at drinking, Y/N?” Jaemin asks, his smile as striking as his cobalt blue hair. He really is a heartthrob.

“Somewhat,” you say, being deliberately evasive; you aren’t about to let him know that your tolerance was limited to dainty sips of Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay typically served at the high-end functions you went to.

“Great! Let’s play a drinking game then,” he says, winking, and the butterflies in your stomach make it hard for you to resist.

Over the course of the next hour, you find yourself in an endless cycle of drinking games—you weren’t bad at those games, and it wasn’t very often that you had to drink, but when you did, the single shot of soju burned your throat on the way down and seemed to erode your consciousness along the way. You can feel your cheeks getting hotter and hotter, and the laughing faces of the boys seem to pass by in a hazy blur.

“Y/N,” a low voice chimes in your ear; it’s a stern, familiar voice. You frown instinctively; you have a pretty good idea of who it is, even if you can’t see him. “Stop it. You don’t have to keep drinking if you can’t handle it.”

You wave him off; there’s no way you’re drunk. “Who… Who said I can’t handle it? I’m no… lightweight.”

“Yeah… She seems to be managing fine, right Y/N?” Another voice, this one slurred and a little too mirthful to be sober. A flash of blue hair. It’s the cute boy, you think to yourself and smile.

“Enough,” the stern voice cuts in again, right when you are about to reach up and touch the boy’s hair, to see if it feels like cotton candy as much as it looks.

You feel an arm snaking round your waist, forcing you to stand up. Your head rests on something firm and solid; it’s almost comfortable, but you want to keep drinking. You have to prove that you can hold your liquor; you are Y/N, for goodness’ sake, and you can do anything you set your mind to.

But before you can open your mouth to protest, the world begins to spin and darkness swallows you whole; you have no choice but to fall into it without resistance.

—

This isn’t what Donghyuck envisioned when you decided to take you to the party.

He didn’t expect to have to get stuck in a closet with you for a whole 7 minutes. He didn’t expect you to get dead drunk while slobbering all over Jaemin. And he certainly didn’t expect to be hauling you on his back to the front step of your house and having to present your dismally inebriated form to your mother.

“I’m so sorry,” Donghyuck says, hoping he comes across as apologetic enough, “I should’ve taken better care of her.”

To his utter astonishment, your mother waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Don’t worry about it! I expected this to happen; Y/N has never been to a party without us before. I’m glad you were with her; god knows what would have happened to her if you weren’t there!”

Donghyuck resists the urge to chortle. What are you, a child?

“Could you take her up to her room please? I’ll get the housekeeper to run her a bath.”

“Sure,” he says, grimacing inwardly at the thought of having to lug your deadweight up four flights of stairs; thank goodness there’s an elevator.

He tries his best not to dump you unceremoniously onto your bed, taking care to remove your strappy sandals. When the job is done, he’s about to leave when something on your desk catches his eye. He walks over and picks it up, turning on your desk lamp for better lighting.

In his hands lies a framed photo of the two of you when you first met as kids—you in a bright pink dress adorned with a monstrosity of ribbons, him in a suit. You’re both sitting on a park bench holding hands; he’s staring at the camera with a stony expression, while your smile looks more like a grimace.

The memory of that day rushes to greet him, clear as day—it was the first time he saw you, and it was on the same day that it was announced that you were going to be his future bride. It was the day he started his campaign of relentless hate towards you, the day he decided that you were to be his lifelong enemy.

Donghyuck sets the picture down on your desk with more force than intended. Why would you still keep it? Did you really want a constant reminder of your betrothal to him? Did you really want a constant reminder of him?

His whirlwind of thoughts is interrupted by a weak voice. “Donghyuck?”

He walks over to your bed where you lie intoxicated, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded, tangled locks of hair strewn across your pillow.

“You’re awake,” he says, voice flat.

“I… said… I wasn’t drunk… idiot…”

Nope. Still wasted.

“Just go to sleep. Your bath will be ready soon,” he’s about to leave when you lift your hand to latch weakly onto his wrist.

“Wait,” you mumble, “I… have to ask you… something.”

“What is it?”

At this, your lips turn into a pout. “I know… you’re… a liar.”

“What?”

“You…,” you gesticulate aimlessly at him—after all, finding words is such a chore when you’re hardly sober— “when we were young… you said that… you hated me because I was wearing… pink.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitches in his throat; he can’t believe you can remember that.

“Yes; what about it?”

“You’re lying. That’s… a stupid reason… for hating someone. So tell me… why exactly… do you hate me so much?”

Donghyuck feels his heartbeat pick up but he keeps his lips pursed.

“I never told you this… but… it hurts. It hurts how… you don’t even want to be friends with me…” you ramble on, lips forming a pout while your eyelids get heavier and heavier. “Why don’t you like me…” Your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing evens, and Donghyuck releases the breath he’d been holding.

Donghyuck feels the sour pang of guilt creep up on him. Granted, you’d never done anything to warrant his hate for you; he simply detests your very existence, which isn’t something you can help. It never once occurred to him that you’d be hurt by him—he didn't think he mattered to you at all. He can’t believe you still remember what he’d said to you all those years ago. Sighing, he rakes a hand through his hair; perhaps some soul-searching is in order.

He pauses for a moment, watching the way your eyelashes graze your cheekbones ever so slightly. Your cheeks and lips are flushed cherry pink from all that drinking, and a stray lock of hair spills across your face. He reaches out to draw it away from your face, marvelling at how normal you look for once; your sleeping face is so tranquil, like a child’s. No one would ever be able to guess at how you are nothing less than a perfect, infallible human being. It’s easy for him to forget how you’re the same age as him; you just seem to possess a maturity way beyond your youth that Donghyuck really can’t wrap his head around.

He gently drapes the duvet over you, and he’s about to leave when he sees that his denim jacket is still wrapped snugly around your body, though it’s a couple sizes too large for your slight frame.

He can let you have it for a little while.

—

You proudly hand your mother your school journal, decorated with pink glitter and purple felt butterflies you painstakingly cut out yourself. On the first page, the words “My Dream Job” are neatly inscribed in cursive lettering, with hearts over the i’s.

“Mrs Lee asked us to write down our dream job today,” you gush, pigtails bouncing with excitement. “Look what I wrote!”

Your mother smiles as her eyes skim over the words ‘fashion designer’. You gabble on.

“I told the class I wanted to take over your company when I grow up and become a fashion designer just like you!”

“Very good, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I have no doubt that will happen,” she says, patting the top of your head.

“Oh, I also asked Donghyuck what he wanted to be. He said he wants to be a singer when he grows up.”

Your mother’s hand falls from your head and she frowns. “Does he?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that cool? I told him that was really cool.”

Her expression turns austere. “There’s no future in that, Y/N. You should tell him to be like you and take over his family’s company. That way he’ll be successful.”

“But he’s good at singing,” you protest, eyes shining with the memory of his voice, “and he looks so happy when he’s singing. If he’s happy, won’t he be successful too?”

—

“Do you still sing?”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at you as he chugs his iced coffee. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s called making conversation. It might not be in our contract, but did you intend to sit in silence until the sun sets and we go home?”

It’s your turn to pick a date, so you’ve dragged Donghyuck to a music cafe with a stage by the entrance where a teenage boy sings soulful R&B tunes. You weren’t being entirely truthful when you told him you were just making conversation; you did want to know if he still sang. To see if he was prepared for what you were about to throw him into.

“Sometimes,” he says, “maybe one day I’ll serenade you. With a song about how annoying you are.”

You resist the urge to toss your steaming mug of chamomile tea in his face. These days, after your horribly embarrassing encounter at the party (Donghyuck insists that you threw up in his car, but you don’t remember that at all), his attitude toward you seems to have shifted. Sure, he’s still mean, but not resentful. He doesn’t seem to hate you that much anymore; when he says spiteful things you can sense its teasing undertones.

You wonder what sparked this change. Shouldn’t he detest you even more? You literally threw up in his car—or so he claims. Or maybe he’s finally come to his senses and recognizes just how lovable you are.

You load up your smile like a gun.

“You do that,” you say, raising your hand to beckon someone over. To Donghyuck’s surprise, the manager of the cafe scoots over, and when he leans down you whisper something into his ear. The man chuckles and sends a curious glance at Donghyuck.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling sweetly and taking a sip of your coffee.

The performer ends the song, and bows to polite claps from the audience. The manager you just spoke to goes up on stage, voice filling the room.

“Thank you Jihoon, that was lovely as usual. Next up we have Lee Donghyuck—this is his first time performing, so do give him your encouragement!”

Donghyuck literally jumps in his seat and you stifle your laugh. He sends a death glare in your direction and mouths I’m going to kill you. You clap for him in response, that sweet smile never leaving your face. You’ll get it from him later, no doubt, but this is totally worth it.

Donghyuck finally gets up and trudges over to the stage. He steps up to the mic, closes his eyes for the briefest of instants, and his lips part.

You expected, after all these years, that his voice would have hardened somehow, taken on a rougher edge, flavoured with the accents of a baritone. However, Donghyuck surprises you yet again—his voice is just as airy and angelic as it was nearly a decade ago, and every line he sings is like a stream of honey pouring forth from his lips. He breezes through countless high notes effortlessly in a way that sends chills down your spine, without so much as a twitch of neck muscle; he loads every word with so much emotion that it seems like the euphonious melody is coming to life right before your very eyes. The other patrons in the cafe are spellbound, drinks and conversation long forgotten; he’s bewitched everyone, and there’s no escaping.

In short, Lee Donghyuck is still a marvellous singer. And possibly a siren.

When he’s done, it is silent for a moment, the aftereffects of his spell still lingering. And then a single clap from the manager breaks the reverie and soon everyone is applauding in awe and surprise. There are even a few cheers.

You watch as he smiles and bows bashfully before walking down the stage, leaving his five minutes of fame behind. His cheeks glow under the warm light of the cafe; he looks absolutely ethereal.

“What do you think?” He asks as he slides into his seat. You can almost feel the passion flowing from him in waves.

You stare at him, starstruck. How could you possibly tell him that you never want him to stop singing, that you actually would like to be serenaded by him, that you want to wake up and fall asleep to the sound of his voice every single day?

So you settle for, “N-Not bad.” Yes, you stuttered. You hope your cheeks won’t betray you.

Donghyuck smirks. “Really? Your face tells me something else.”

Instinctively, you place a hand on your cheek—it’s burning. You take a large gulp of coffee to hide the flames in your cheeks; Donghyuck’s smirk only grows wider.

Avoiding his gaze, you ask, “Anyway, what song was that? I’ve never heard it before.”

He rubs the back of his neck with his palm. “Actually, I wrote it.”

“You what?”

“I wrote it. Want me to announce it to everyone?”

You can’t believe it. Not only does this boy before you have the voice of an angel, he’s a lyrical genius too? The world is simply not fair.

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, all attempts at unfazed composure gone. “That’s actually crazy. You’re actually crazy.”

You look back at Donghyuck, expecting him to look smug, but instead his lips are pursed and his gaze is downcast.

“What’s wrong? Upset that your identity as a secret genius has been exposed?”

“No, it’s just… I wrote this song for Sohui. I thought she would love it, especially since she’s always been super supportive about my singing and songwriting. But… she doesn’t like it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She said I should have bigger dreams now. Apparently, I can’t get anywhere with this.”

You keep silent, wondering how she could possibly say that to him. Heck, if a boy wrote you a song and serenaded you with it you’d probably get down on one knee and profess your undying love to him.

“Maybe… maybe she’s right. My parents say that all the time too. I shouldn’t be singing anymore. It’s time to grow up. You can’t make money out of dreams.”

He looks so crestfallen, the incandescent shine that had previously graced him completely vanished. That shine of passion was what set him ablaze and made him look so euphoric, and now it’s gone, like a candle snuffed out by the darkness.

You want to get it back for him. You want to see that look of pure bliss spread across his face. You want to see him shining bright and luminous again.

“So, what? You’re just going to stop singing then?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest, “I thought you were more determined than that. Once you’d set your mind on something, you wouldn’t let it go. That’s how you nursed that burning hatred you had for me, right?”

He has the good grace to blush.

You lean across the table and look him straight in the eye. “And I thought you could care less what others thought; that’s why we’re doing all this. That’s why we’re going against our parents’ will and fighting this bloody engagement. The Lee Donghyuck I know won’t go down without a fight, especially if it’s something he clearly loves so much.”

One final push. “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

Donghyuck’s head snaps upward and he stares right at you; you can see the fire in his eyes. Whether it's rage or passion, it doesn’t matter. You managed to rile him up. That was all you wanted. That’s the only way to keep his flame burning.

—

The drive home is filled with a pregnant silence. You wonder if you took it too far; after all, you and Donghyuck aren’t exactly the chummiest of friends. Maybe you overstepped the boundary a little.

But all you know is that you won’t stand by and let him give up such a blessing, something that clearly gives him so much joy. You won’t let him become an empty shell.

You of all people know how that feels.

When you reach home, you unbuckle your seatbelt and say goodbye. “Thanks for today, Donghyuck. You can choose the next date.”

You’re about to reach for the door and get out, but Donghyuck stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Y/N,” he says, and you look at him, acutely aware of the sensation of his fingers clasped around your wrist. His gaze burns into yours in a way that makes your heart jolt and your brain question everything you ever thought you’d felt about him.

You wonder whether, in an alternate universe, things could have been different between you two.

“Thank you,” he finally says, gaze softening, the faintest hint of a smile etched on his lips.

Perhaps you melted a little.

#lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck imagines #lee donghyuck scenarios #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck angst #nct dream #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #haechan scenarios #nct haechan #haechan nct #haechan fluff #haechan fanfic #haechan fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct imagines

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years

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Girl’s Night Out

Final Lisa Snart Appreciation Week fic, back when I was on the captaincanary train and thought the show could use some female friendships.

"We are going to rule this place!" Lisa whooped enthusiastically, running to the street and urging the blonde behind her to hurry up.

"Calm down, Party Princess. Don't want people to think you're already drunk and cut you off." Sara retorted at the woman's giddiness.

"Cut me off? Never. Who wouldn't give little ol me a drink" Lisa drawled, putting on the most angelic face she could muster, and twirled a strand around her pinkie. That got the men every time. The sweet, nice farm girl role was easy to play and so much fun to watch how they fall over themselves to carry her bags, and shoes, and comfort her when she threw up in the toilet, warning her not to go too fast yet always offering her a round of mimosas the second she perked up. It was Thursday night. Girl's night for Sara and Lisa.

It had started a couple of months ago when Leonard miraculously returned from the dead. Lisa had almost refused to believe it. After months of mourning she didn't want to be reminded of him or worse, see it was just some imposter. It would hurt too much. But Mick basically dragged her along to the mission and she had been thrilled to see it was the real Leonard. Leonard had been beaten, traumatized and depressed but slowly he got better with the help of the Legends and especially with the care of herself, Sara and Mick.

When Lisa had found out about Sara and Leonard's relationship, well to say that the Snart protective streak was all on Leonard's side, please. She stalked the Lance home and once Sara entered her room, Lisa asked her point blank what her intentions were with her brother and that if she ever broke his heart due to some stupid-You're evil, I can't be with you excuse, she was personally going to cut some body parts and feed it to her.

After Sara had calmed her down (i.e. kicked her ass), she assured her that she would in no one intentionally hurt her brother.

Lisa grudgingly had to apologize for shoving the knife to her throat. The next day, Sara decided to make up for the whole confrontation by hanging out together.

It had been a blast. Lisa didn't have many girl friends, even Shawna the only Rogue she hated out with voluntarily, hardly counted since she was gone as soon as the heist was over. Plus Sara was pretty cool, she didn't take crap from any man or woman, always was ready and willing to do some motorcycle races, drinking contests and even started teaching her how to knock a guy out with a boa stick. Nor did she sigh about how handsome Leonard was.

When Lisa had asked about their relationship, without weapons, Sara just explained how Leonard had helped her through a tough time and that he was very "cool" to say the least.

Bad puns aside, Thursday nights when Sara was home from traipsing around in the past the two would hit Central and sometimes Starling City and go clubbing.

Their first stop was Saints & Sinners. Lisa ran to the dance floor, grinding and shoving herself to the middle of the ground. Enjoying the heat and action and the strobe lights hitting her silver sequined mini dress, sending sparkles around.

She looked around for Sara and saw she was by the bar, glaring moodily out the window. Lisa shimmed to her side, "What'sup are you gonna go bust out the moves again?" "I'm okay. I'll just be here with the drinks" Sara answered, stirring the rim of her gin glass. "Are you sure? I mean the guys loved you last time. Remember the eunuch test?" Lisa tried to copy the move that Sara had done which involved some odd gymnastic bend with a machete.

"Yeah, I would like to see your moves" A guy with way too much cologne approached them, sleazy sliding his hand up and down Sara's arm. 'Whatever" Sara shoved him off, making him crash to the nearest table and walked out the doors, "Lisa let's go to Jitters I'm tired of this place." Lisa raced behind Sara, "Are you okay? You didn't give that creep the throw down you usually do." "Lisa, I'm not going to start a bar brawl every time someone hits on me." Sara muttered irritably.

When they reached Jitters, Lisa was pleased to see it was karaoke night. She cheerfully mocked and snarked about all the unfortunate singers who went up to sing and was thrilled when even Cisco Ramon and his friend, Barry something came on stage too to do a "The Ten Duel Commandments.”

She waved to Cisco but stood by Sara because it was Girl's Night and she could flirt all she wanted tomorrow. Plus she was a little concerned, Sara hardly cracked a smile or even replied to her sarcastic compliments. Something was bugging that girl, and Lisa wanted to know what.

"What's with you" Lisa hissed, pulling Sara to the nearest bathroom stall.

“Nothing, Lisa. I'm not in the mood okay. No what I'm sorry if I'm bringing down your night. I can go home, we can do this another time." Sara grumbled, starting to put on her coat.

"No way, you're getting off that easy. Talk to me" Lisa gripped her arm tightly. "Let me go" Sara snapped, kicking Lisa to the sinkLisa grabbed Sara hair in an effort to keep steady, and swiftly put her in a headlock.

Sara elbowed her in the chest, flipped her over and pinned her. Her knee eating on Lisa's chest with excrutiating pain. Damn assassin training!

Lisa felt a rising panic, why did she push the buttons of a bloodlust assassin? She had to snap her out of it. "Sara! Stop being a neandrathalic dumbass and talk to me!" Lisa cried, using one of Len's favorite insults.

Sara blinked slowly, realizing what she was doing and hastily got up, “I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me, I thought I had learned to get over it."

"Whatever, you can have a nice long soul searching talk with Lenny about that. Just tell me what's got you so shitty" Lisa said, dusting on off her dress.

Sara sighed and leaned against the wall, looking downcast. "Laurel."

Lisa suddenly understood Sara's whole attitude during this night. She moved beside her, and knocked her shoulder against hers in a silent solidarity.

“I’m sorry," Lisa whispered.

"I know this sounds selfish, but Mick got to say goodbye to Leonard when we thought he died, then it turned out he didn't. I'm thrilled, those few months without your brother hurt me too. But at least there was some closure there and we had a chance to go back in time and fix things. But I can never do that for Laurel. It was Darhk's doing not the Oculus or the Time Masters. There was so much I needed to apologize to her for." Sara hid her face with her hands and slid to the ground. Lisa made sure to lock the bathroom doors and slid down next to her. "I know how you feel.” Sara looked at her questioningly, "And it's not about Lenny's death. It's my mom's. I learned that for those who are dead and for sure are not returning, you've got to hope. Hope and think about them. It's incredible stupid but it works. Laurel loved you, I'm sure. Would she have really want to end things with grudges and stuff? No good sibling would. I bet she understands all the things you want to tell her."

Sara nodded solemnly and got up. “We can do this another time, I just need to be alone for a little bit" Sara said, managing to keep a steady voice despite her wet cheeks. "But thanks."

"It's what sisters do" Lisa shrugged, and Sara stared at her questioningly "You're going to be around Len for awhile so I just accepted the fact that we're sisters now. You should probably start too." Lisa said a matter of factly.

Sara nodded slowly, "I think I could get used to the idea." Lisa shrugged, "You better. I already started.. uh stealing some of your boots that you left at Lenny's but since we're sisters now, we can just call that borrowing."

Sara heaved a big sigh, and Lisa smiled to herself. It was going to be a pretty weird family relation but it was gonna be a hell of a fun one.

#lisa snart #sara lance #white canary #goldenvibe #captaincanary #legends of tomorrow #my fanfiction #my fanfic

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Not Nineteen Forever (18) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: heeey heyheyhey! i tried not to leave u all on a cliffhanger for too long. thank u so so much for all the love on the last chapter, it honestly made my whole week! again if u like this one feel free to send some love either to AQ or on my blog. hope u all enjoy! P.S. i knew i forgot to mention something! the song the girls sing at the end is called Good Girl’s Gone Bad by Booty Luv (lmfao) if u want to get the vibe of how it actually sounds, because i hate trying to convey a song via simply italicised lyrics lolol)

trigger warning: alcohol xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the gang headed to a big house in the country and things between Brooke and Vanessa got a little more than civil in the hot tub.

this chapter: the girls have to pick up the pieces for the 195th time. but karaoke and gin solves everything, right?

***

Scarlet lay back in bed, panting and looking up at the ceiling as Yvie emerged from the covers underneath her, her cheeks red. Holding her arms out for a cuddle, Scarlet’s heart swelled up as Yvie, exhausted, threw her head down against Scarlet’s chest. Scarlet knew Yvie would be able to hear her heart beat. She liked that. She liked being intimate with Yvie in ways like they just had been, when Yvie’s tongue was between her legs and Scarlet was crying out into the silence of the house without a care for who heard them, but she also loved the intimacy of Yvie knowing parts of her that nobody else knew, like a secret they both shared.

“I love you,” Scarlet sighed, pressing a kiss to Yvie’s chaos of curls as the other girl wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed.

“I love you too, baby. So much,” Yvie replied, Scarlet able to feel how she smiled against her skin and unable to stop herself from smiling too.

They lay there for a moment in the foreign room, Scarlet taking in their surroundings. A green carpet, scuffed and worn. A white ceiling with endless cracks snaking across it like a map. An inexplicably out of context painting of a hunt in the countryside, and a window with no curtains where the bright sunshine of the new day shone in unrelentingly through the unpolished glass.

“How are you this morning, you hanging?” Yvie asked her, Scarlet frowning.

“Nah. I never drank that much. You?” she asked, sitting up a little and causing Yvie to shift.

“I’ve got a little headache but I’m not sure if it was the alcohol or just this bed.”

“We were drinking red wine, to be fair. That was a bad call,” Scarlet rubbed her temples, concluding that she’d had a lucky escape. They’d bought it when Plastique had stopped at the small Co-Op in the village nearest the house to stock up, and they’d giggled in the wine aisle as they had decided to buy something civilised to pretend they were characters in an Agatha Christie novel and swan around the big house dressed to the nines. Although when Scarlet had seen Yvie last night she’d immediately wanted to rip her dress off. It had turned out Yvie had thought the same, and a little smile spread across Scarlet’s face as she remembered them, pressed up against the bedroom wall, messy and passionate as they hitched their dresses up and touched each other frantically and came apart. Scarlet wriggled, crossing her legs and squeezing them together.

“Jesus, what is with you this weekend? You’re so horny, like, all the time,” Yvie laughed, noticing her reaction. Scarlet gave a guilty smile.

“I can’t help it that I have the sexiest girlfriend here,” she shrugged, Yvie rolling herself onto her back and throwing her fists in the air into a triumphant stretch.

“Actually I think you’ll find I have the official hottest girl in the room as a girlfriend, so. Check and mate, princess."

Scarlet gave a snort. "Hey, I was merely a pawn in the huge game of fucking chess that is Vanjie and Brooke at the moment, I don’t think I was anything more than a jealousy crash test dummy.”

“Hmm, well. You got dummy right,” Yvie said playfully, laughing as Scarlet pushed her slightly off the bed, then pulled her back again. Scarlet pulled her close, unease forming in the pit of her stomach.

“You know I’m just yours, right? I only-”

“Oh my God Scarlet, relax!” Yvie laughed, squeezing her. “I know there was nothing to that kiss at all, shut up. I trust you. I love you. It was a dare, these girls are our friends, and Vanjie’s about as harmless as an actual cucumber. Chill.”

Scarlet obediently relaxed, glad to have reassured Yvie even if she didn’t need reassured in the first place. She paused, then spoke again. “I don’t know, you could do a bit of damage to someone with a cucumber.”

“I’d do a bit of damage to you with a cucumber,” Yvie wiggled her eyebrows, Scarlet screeching a laugh and swatting at her.

“You’re disgusting. I hate you.”

“You wish you hated me,” Yvie stuck her tongue out at her, and Scarlet sighed.

“It would make my life a lot easier if I did,” she replied playfully, a loud rumble from her stomach cutting her off. She frowned. “Hungry.”

Yvie gave another stretch, her ankles cracking loudly. “Do you want to go down, get the glasses from the living room and stick some bacon on a pan or some shit?”

“Stick some bacon on a pan or some shit. Gordon Ramsay, love your work!”

The two girls continued to bicker as they threw their pyjamas back on, bounced down the stairs and collected the glasses left in the living room from last night. Scarlet was glad to see that there were no rings left from any drinks on tables, her airbnb account safe from a scathing review from whoever even owned this place. Looking at the sofa her and Yvie had sat on last night, she laughed as she remembered her and Vanjie’s ridiculous kiss. The girl got no points for subtlety.

“How did Brooke get more jealous than you when me and Vanj got with each other? You’re my actual girlfriend and you gave less of a shit,” Scarlet mused, walking into the kitchen behind Yvie and setting the glasses down beside the sink.

“Because I know that I’m yours and you’re mine and Brooke knows that she fucked it with Vanjie so she can’t kiss her whenever she wants to like I can with you. I got to have you back in my arms after that kiss and have you reassure me, she didn’t get that,” Yvie shrugged, getting the bacon out of the fridge. She ran her tongue over her teeth as she locked eyes with Scarlet. “Plus it was hot, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck, are we going to have a threesome now, is that what this is?” Scarlet asked dryly, secretly flattered.

“Bad enough having to throw your fuckin’ teddy across the room whenever I’m dicking you down at yours.”

“Just once I’d love to talk about sex with you and not want to blow my own brains out,” Scarlet continued deadpanning, snorting as Yvie began to laugh in her own goofy way. Scarlet loved the old married couple bickering that they always seemed to fall into, having absorbed so much of Yvie’s humour the longer she spent with her. It was one of just so many things she loved about her. “Did something go on between them last night, by the way?”

“Oh, hundred percent,” Yvie rolled her eyes as she wrenched a frying pan from a cupboard. “Yay, another Brooke Lynn shaped mess me and Nina are gonna have to pick up the pieces of! Can’t wait!”

“Yves,” Scarlet warned, dunking the glasses into the hot, soapy water she’d filled the sink with. “Be nice. She’s your best friend, we all make mistakes.”

“I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her like a fucking maraca. It’s like she’s been challenged to make as many bad decisions that she can and if she gets to a certain amount she wins a prize. What do you think her target is? Two hundred? Five hundred?”

“Stop,” Scarlet laughed, her smile almost cracking her face as she turned around, hearing a set of footsteps pad softly down the steps to the kitchen. Akeria emerged, her makeup from the night before smeared across her face like a child’s painting and her long, blonde hair twirled up into a bun. “Morning, Kiki. You sleep okay?”

“The sleep was fine. It’s the awake part I’m strugglin’ with,” she groaned, sliding into one of the wooden chairs and resting her head in her hands. “Is this what a hangover’s like when you turn twenty two? I don’t want it.”

“No, that’s what a hangover’s like when you drink three bottles of six pound Shiraz,” Yvie raised an eyebrow at the suffering girl, Scarlet feeling guilty as she laughed.

“Leave me alone, it’s my birthday,” Akeria whined, Scarlet’s stomach rumbling again as the smell of bacon began to waft through the kitchen.

“Are you gonna use that excuse for the entirety of March?” Yvie chuckled, turning around from the aga. Scarlet took the rolls they’d bought out of the cupboard and got the butter out of the fridge.

“Yes,” Akeria rubbed her eyes so hard Scarlet worried for her eyelash extensions. “Tell me I didn’t do anythin’ embarrassing?”

“You honestly didn’t,” Scarlet said kindly, her heart going out to Akeria. “I don’t think you have any bad decisions to worry about.”

“Apart from the whole drinking three bottles of wine thing,” Yvie shrugged.

“Vanjie, on the other hand…” Akeria sighed, Yvie growing animated at the stove.

“Right? We were just talking about this. Do you know what happened?”

“Not yet. She better be in that fucking room with Silk and Plastique or I’ll personally whoop her ass,” Akeria narrowed her eyes.

“She’s not,” came Plastique’s voice from the stairs, Silky following after.

“Good morning campers! How are we?” Silky’s voice boomed cheerfully into the echoing kitchen, making Scarlet flinch even though she wasn’t all that hungover.

“Silky, I’m honestly going to murder you in your sleep,” Akeria said flatly.

“You think this is bad! The bitch decided to give me a full one-woman show of The Bodyguard last night before bed!” Plastique cried in outrage, filling the kettle up and flicking on the switch.

“It was BEAUTIFUL and EMOTIONAL and GROUNDBREAKING!” Silky yelled, throwing herself down into the chair next to her flatmate dramatically.

“Please someone kill me,” Akeria sighed.

“Were you guys talking about Brooke and Vanjie?” Plastique steered the conversation back as the kettle bubbled. “They’re in Brooke’s room. She didn’t sleep in ours.”

“I’m losing the will to live with her, I swear to Jesus,” Akeria sighed woefully, shaking her head like a long-suffering mother.

“So wait, what exactly is going on between them? Like, we can build quite a unique perspective here. We got me and we got Yvie to tell you what Brooke’s thinking, and we got you three to give us Vanjie’s perspective,” Plastique said, with all the energy of a detective solving a mystery. Yvie snorted.

“Yeah, good luck with that, we all know Brooke’s mind is like fucking Alcatraz,” she rolled her eyes, distributing the bacon between the rolls Scarlet had sliced open and buttered.

“And Monet can give us the Monique tea. Once she stops banging Nina,” Plastique shrugged. “Who wants tea, who wants coffee?”

“I want the sweet embrace of death,” Akeria murmured.

“TEA!” Silky ordered at top volume.

“Or failing that, to be deaf.”

Scarlet helped Plastique dish up teas and coffees. She remembered Monet and Nina were both tea people, and how they both took it (she’d spent enough time round at Yvie’s to be a tea-making expert for everyone that lived or was frequently round at the flat) so she made one up for each of the girls in case they emerged within the next five minutes or so.

“We should set up a charity. Flatmates Living with Absolute Pisstakers,” Yvie laughed humourlessly, Scarlet laughing as she realised something.

“FLAPS,” she abbreviated, causing the girls round the table to snort out a few giggles.

“Okay so what do you know?” Silky pointed a finger at Scarlet, the girl jumping a little in surprise. “We wanna see if it matches what we know.”

Scarlet shrugged. She’d had lectures with Vanessa and hung out like she always did, but if she was honest Vanessa hadn’t given away much about how she was feeling about Brooke. Scarlet had tried to prise something out of her, mentioning how it was good they had seemed to get along at her birthday party, but Vanessa had just shrugged and said she had to grow up and be civil eventually. She relayed this to the girls, Silky sighing deeply.

“Okay, good. So we know about as much as you,” she said, voice full of regret.

“She’s treating the whole thing as a massive joke, but we know different. We were there when she cried herself to sleep in the flat, we made her food when she couldn’t get out of bed. None of which she fuckin’ ate, but still. We know how much Brooke affected her, even if Brooke doesn’t,” Akeria explained. Scarlet’s heart hurt remembering how badly Vanessa took the breakup.

“She’s pretending that she’s over her and fuckin’ around with Monique ain’t helping,” Silky hissed.

Plastique made a face. “I think Brooke knew how much Vanessa liked her. She felt really bad about the breakup, but she was just doing what she thought was best.”

“Which is okay if that’s the decision that she’s sticking to! But it’s not! The bitch got up last night, kissed her in front of all of us and then probably slept with her!” Akeria sighed irritably, tearing into her bacon roll with aggression. Scarlet mirrored her sigh. That was the thing, she did have to agree with Akeria- Brooke breaking things off with Vanjie was fine, but changing her mind so violently? It had to mess with Vanjie’s head.

“Well, basically,” Yvie began, exhaling a little as she presumably knew what she was about to say would cause tension. “I get the impression from Brooke that she has changed her decision.”

Silky laughed harshly in disbelief. “What?!”

Yvie raised her hands in the air. “I mean, don’t shoot the messenger, but yeah. She was big pressed when V started sleeping with Monique. I think she feels like she fucked it.”

“Well, she did,” Akeria said venomously, just as footsteps came from the little steps to the kitchen. The girls held their breath, Scarlet’s eyes growing wide as she craned her neck to see who was coming.

“Morning!” Nina’s sing-song voice cut through the silence happily, pausing abruptly when she felt the atmosphere in the room. Scarlet felt sorry for her; she had no idea what she was walking into.

“Hey, girl. We made you both tea,” she smiled, addressing Monet who had traipsed in behind Nina in her huge baggy pyjamas, looking every inch still half-asleep.

“Okay, and what is the tea? Because you’re all suspicious as fuck right now. In the time I’ve known these girls, they’re never silent,” Monet raised an eyebrow, taking her cup and leaning against the counters. Silky leant forward, her face conspiratorial.

“We’re talking Brooke and Vanjie.”

“Oh, good,” Monet flared her nostrils as she celebrated sarcastically.

“Good, so you’re about as done with them as we are,” Akeria rolled her eyes. “V didn’t sleep in her own bed last night. We think she slept with Brooke.”

“Well, that was obvious enough when they never came to watch the film.”

Scarlet pulled a face, eager not to jump to conclusions. “Maybe they talked everything out? We can’t assume.”

“Scarlet, come on. If there was talking involved, it wasn’t gonna be U rated,” Yvie smiled indulgently at her. Scarlet had to concede.

“You’re Monique’s flatmate, girl, where does she come into all of this?” Plastique asked Monet, bringing her knees up to her chest and balancing her coffee cup on top.

“It’s none of my business,” Monet threw her hands up in the air. Akeria rolled her eyes.

“Come on, bitch, give us a crumb.”

Monet sighed, relenting. “Aight, well. Monique is well aware how much Vanjie still seems into Brooke, because from what she’s said Vanessa has made that perfectly clear to her.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ on a crucifix,” Silky exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

“So Vanjie’s still hung up on Brooke?” Scarlet asked, trying to clarify the situation.

“And Brooke’s still into Vanjie,” Nina said casually, some of Yvie’s coffee splashing onto her pyjamas as she whirled around to face Nina.

“What?!”

“She told me after Scarlet’s birthday. Shit, I wasn’t meant to tell you guys that,” Nina clamped a hand over her mouth involuntarily, worry etched onto her face. “Guys, fuck, you can’t tell her I told you.”

“Nice of her to let me know, Jesus!” Yvie snarled, Scarlet reaching a hand out and stroking her knuckles soothingly.

“I wouldn’t take it personally, babe. You know it’s like trying to get blood from a stone with her and her feelings. I guess it’s good she at least told one of us?” Nina gave a sympathetic shrug, clearly feeling bad.

Plastique tore a hand through her hair. “So wait, Brooke likes Vanjie and Vanjie likes Brooke? Why don’t they just get back together then?”

“Because like fuck is my girl getting hurt again when Brooke changes her mind for a third time,” Akeria scowled up at Plastique. “And anyone who thinks they’re gonna be good together after everything that’s happened is trash, sorry.”

“Kiki, c'mon. That’s harsh,” Nina frowned, disapproving. Akeria shot her a nasty look.

“Nobody wants to see Brooke or Vanjie get hurt. They’re both our friends,” Scarlet cut in, trying to play peacemaker.

“I’m just sayin’, Vanj would do well to just focus on Monique, who from what I’ve heard actually treats her right. She certainly doesn’t use her like a fucking sex doll whenever she wants,” Akeria spat. Scarlet grew tense as she saw Yvie bristling.

“Actually that’s exactly what their entire friendship is built on,” Monet cut in with a laugh, keen to ease the tension.

“Akeria, come on, we both know that’s bullshit. If Brooke and Vanj did sleep with each other last night it was one messy fuck after a bit of drinking, they weren’t thinking straight.”

“Did you see V top up her drink once last night?” Akeria shot back instantly, the lawyer jumping out. “Yeah, exactly. And Brooke had what, three, four beers? I was sinking more than that in parks when I was fifteen, that’s fucking children’s numbers. Weren’t thinking straight my ass. They both knew exactly what they were doing.”

“Brooke doesn’t exactly know that V still likes her back, does she? For all she knows this is just a bit of fun to her. Let’s not be too quick to judge,” Nina soothed. Silky snorted with derision.

“Nina, I love you, but the blind man’s fuckin’ guide dog can see Vanjie’s still got feelings.”

“Ah, but you have to remember Brooke’s got the emotional intelligence of a Build-A-Bear,” Plastique pointed out, Akeria shrugging slowly and nodding.

“I guess.”

“I have a great plan for you all,” Monet said suddenly, frowning ever so slightly. “Why don’t you just let the pair of them make their own fuckin’ decisions and mind your own damn business? This has nothing to do with any of us.”

“Sorry Monet, but if it involves our best friend getting her heart broke again then it damn right does have something to do with me!” Akeria objected, Plastique breaking out into awkward laughter at the tense trajectory of the conversation.

Monet calmed down, taking a deep breath. “Look, Kiki, it’s hard for me too watching one of my best friends sleeping with someone that’s clearly still hung up on someone else. But it’s their lives, not ours. We can’t make them do anything. You just have to be the good friends I know you bitches are and be there for them if it all falls down.”

“When it all falls down.” Yvie raised her eyebrows and took a long sip of her drink.

“Yvie, you’re not helping!” Scarlet hissed.

As Monet’s words sank in, the girls had a small moment of silence to reflect on their conversation. Before Scarlet had time to generate any new thoughts, however, there came a sharp thud of footsteps down the stairs and Vanessa emerged, her hair brushed, her makeup removed, and wearing plain jeans and the orange jumper Scarlet had seen her wear so often. Her face was grave, and she pulled her trainers onto her white socked feet as she spoke.

“Kiki. I’m packed. Ready to leave when you are."

The room was silent as she haphazardly tied her laces, stood up, and left as quickly as she had come in.

The rest of the day was decidedly tense. Vanjie hardly spoke a word to anyone that morning, and when Brooke emerged she was similarly silent. Nobody ripped into them about the obvious- usually they would, but this time was different. Feelings were on the line, and people were getting hurt. Scarlet and Yvie spoke about the situation with Plastique all the way home, and by the time they both got back to the flat Brooke had already barricaded herself in her room. Yvie would usually try to talk to her, but not today. Today, Brooke was best left alone.

It took her three days to say something.

Scarlet was round at the flat and she and Yvie were in the living room with Nina, watching Coronation Street (Yvie’s choice, of course) when Brooke came into the kitchen, walked calmly through to the sofa, threw herself down on it and let out a small sigh.

“Hey, babe! How’re you- oh shit. Oh, girl, what’s wrong?” Nina sighed, seeing two tears fall from Brooke’s face that she quickly hid in the sleeves of her black hoodie.

“I’m a fucking terrible person,” she cried quietly, still burying her face in her hands as Nina launched herself into the armchair Brooke occupied and wrapped her arms around her in a hug.

“No, Brooke, you’re not. You’re not, honey,” Nina sighed, shaking her head and murmuring into Brooke’s hair.

“Everything’s ruined. Vanessa hates me…and you guys probably all do too,” Brooke sniffed. Scarlet sighed.

“Brooke, nobody hates you. Least of all us! You’ll always have us!” she smiled comfortingly. Brooke brought her head up to face her, resentment in her eyes.

“Oh, Scarlet, come on, I know your loyalties lie with Vanessa.”

Scarlet let out a displeased laugh, appealing to Yvie. “Fuck me, right!”

Brooke let out a sob as if she’d immediately regretted snapping. “I’m sorry Scarlet, that was unfair. Shit, fuck, there I go again. All I do is just push people away and bottle up my problems and never tell anybody anything. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you! And you can always tell us anything. You know that!” Nina shushed her, tucking her hair behind her ears. Brooke smiled gently at her.

Yvie piped up, leaning towards Brooke. “Yeah. And you could start by telling us what went down between you two the other night when we were away, because I don’t understand what’s happened.”

Brooke took a long, deep breath and sighed. “We got carried away…she’d been joking with me all day. Like she was flirting and being touchy…anyway, we were in the hot tub and we were talking about us. Kind of. How long I’d liked her for before we got together, and the fact we’d kissed. And then everything just sort of happened. You know we slept with each other, I know you all know. You’ve all got brains. Things were said…and I don’t think she believes any of it. Even though it was all true. And even if she wanted to speak to me, I wouldn’t even know where to begin…fuck-”

“What did you say to her?” Scarlet asked gently, holding her breath a little.

“That I missed her. That I was sorry. But I feel like she thinks I was saying it because I just wanted her so badly. I mean, I did. I do…fuck,” Brooke sighed, rubbing her face with her hands.

“What happened when you woke up? That morning. You were both obviously…not yourselves,” Nina said, trying to word things tactically. Brooke let out a huge exhale.

“I woke up and she wasn’t even in bed with me. She just pulled on her bikini from the night before, had a face on like she wanted to kill me. I tried to talk things out, but she just told me there was nothing to say. She didn’t want to speak to me…” Brooke hung her head. “And that night, after we’d slept together, we’d just…lain there and held each other. We never said anything, she didn’t leave to go back to her own room. She put her head on my chest and I put my arms around her and just felt her breathing. It was like everything was back to normal, back to how it was. Jesus, I’ve absolutely fucked it.”

This time it was Yvie that fell forward and hugged her as Brooke sobbed, quiet and resigned. Scarlet felt her heart hurt for her. As much as Brooke had behaved inconsiderately and rashly, she’d clearly recognised the mistake she’d made. Scarlet believed that she did genuinely care about Vanjie, that she wanted to make things right with her. The only issue was how to try and make Vanessa see that.

“Right,” Nina said decisively, slapping her thighs. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s go out. Let’s put all of this out of your mind and just remember what it feels like to have fun being silly and drinking with friends before all this drama happened.”

Brooke, to her credit, let out a genuinely humoured laugh. “Nina, I was silly and drinking with friends three nights ago. That’s exactly what got me into this mess.”

"No,” Nina said firmly. She was going to make such a good teacher, Scarlet thought, as she watched the girl’s face snap into a frown. “This time you’re not going to think about V. If she turns up, you don’t interact. If Akeria makes a fucking nippy as shit comment, you blank her. This is going to be a fun night, with no drama. I promise.”

Nina was clearly some level of convincing, because Brooke rubbed her eyes and sighed. “I mean…getting drunk and turning our speakers up so loud I can no longer hear my thoughts sounds pretty good.”

The three flatmates shared an indulgent grin with each other. Brooke laughed, letting out a resigned groan.

“Yves, Scar. You down?“

Scarlet smiled at Brooke so hard she felt her face hurt. Reaching out and squeezing Yvie’s hand, she knew what her answer would be. “Always, angel.”

Impromptu nights out were always the best ones, Scarlet thought, and she hoped tonight would be no exception. To be fair to Nina, it seemed as if it had been a good idea. Brooke had smiled and laughed as she helped the other girls decide what to wear, cobbled together pre-drinks from the random assortment of spirits and mixers they had around their flat, ordered Nina to either skip or turn up songs on the playlist. Nina, seemingly the one in charge, had heard about this karaoke bar from Monet which seemed to simply be a karaoke machine in the middle of a quintessential old man’s pub named The Swan, but Monet had posed it to Nina as one of the best nights out she’d ever had so of course her word was gospel. Secretly Scarlet kind of hoped Vanessa wouldn’t turn up, which was harsh but Scarlet was as much Brooke’s friend as she was Vanjie’s and she just wanted Brooke to have a good night after so much upset.

“We don’t have to message the others, you know,” Scarlet shrugged as she emerged from Yvie’s room in a borrowed red cropped jumper and the jeans she’d worn to the flat in the first place. She got the vibe that this night out was not a fancy one.

“Noo, I wanna see Plastique. And Silk’s always fun,” Brooke pouted, apparently a little tipsy already.

“If we have a night out without at least offering it to Antigua Road it’ll only start more drama,” Yvie rolled her eyes. “Besides, they’re still our friends. Also I would live to see Plastique doing karaoke.”

Scarlet laughed, agreeing as she typed out a message to their group.

Yvie’s Bitch: Ladies, we are thinking karaoke tonight??? Anyone down? Xxxxxxxxxx

okay then: omg yesyesyesyesyesyes!!!!

okay then: can Ariel come too???

Scarlet was glad of the prospect of a new addition to their night. Ariel’s presence would hopefully diffuse a bit of the drama, nobody could exactly kick off when someone new was there.

Yvie’s Bitch: Yes absolutely!!!

There was a pause. Scarlet flicked her eyes over to Brooke, who had an insincere smile on her face as Yvie and Nina did every horrific TikTok dance imaginable. Scarlet saw her turning her phone over in her hand, looking at it anxiously. When Scarlet’s phone buzzed, so did Brooke’s, and she watched as the girl practically pounced on the message.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: KARAOKE BITCH????? OH LAWD WE COMIN

Pres that evening were divided up between the three flats, a mutual and unspoken understanding that it was probably for the best if they met at the bar. Scarlet was glad that Brooke seemed to loosen up as the evening went on, and by the time they were in the taxi she was chatty and giggly, her words spilling out of her like liquid. When they arrived the pub was packed, and they nearly couldn’t see the girls sitting cramped around a small table that was clearly only meant for four people but was also the best they were going to get in the crowds. Scarlet didn’t miss the way Vanjie blanked Brooke as if she wasn’t there, going for a hug with Yvie and then with Nina who were on either side of her. Scarlet vowed to speak to her about things at lectures on Monday. They only had a week of classes until the Easter break began, and then they would all start basically living in the library as dissertation hand-ins and exams would start looming over them like a huge stress boulder. Scarlet tried to focus her energy into chatting politely with Ariel, who was sitting beside an already very drunk Plastique. Scarlet had met her only a few times before when she’d been with Plastique on campus, but she’d never come to any big group nights out with the girls and Scarlet wanted to make her feel welcome. Although that was currently hard with the tension between Vanessa and Brooke, and by proxy Akeria, who had a protective arm slung around Vanjie like a mother lioness. Scarlet was distracted from the scene for a moment by Yvie, who had bought her a gin and lemonade. Scarlet thanked her and squeezed up on the chair she was sitting on to accommodate her girlfriend. She felt herself smile involuntarily as Yvie kissed her cheek. Yvie, the drink in her hand, and somebody new to get to know. Those were the three things Scarlet would focus on.

And that worked out. For a while. But Brooke had wanted to drown her feelings and it looked as if she was giving that a pretty good attempt. She’d returned from a simple drinks round with Jagerbombs for everyone (even Vanessa, although as peace offerings went it was one of the worst Scarlet had ever seen) and had been quite happy to sink the ones that some of the girls had refused. Then she’d dragged Nina up to sing a duet of Beyonce and Shakira’s Beautiful Liar which Brooke was essentially making into soft porn judging by the way she was flipping her hair and grinding on Nina, who was dying of laughter as she tried to get her notes out. Scarlet was nudged by Yvie who nodded to Akeria and Vanjie. The two were frowning at the girls on stage and muttering disapprovingly.

“I’m going to say something. This is a joke, they’re acting like they’re in high school,” Yvie rolled her eyes, as the girls got up from their seats and moved in the direction of the bar where Silky was in the queue for drinks.

“Don’t, Yves. Kiki’s only looking out for V, and she’s still upset. Brooke’s taking it a bit too far, to be fair,” Scarlet winced as Brooke hit a note that definitely wasn’t written anywhere in the song.

“She’s trying to have a fun night, Scarlet. But she can’t, because Judge fuckin’ Judy’s giving her death stares any time she so much as breathes,” Yvie seethed, whipping her head around and trying to find the girls in the crowd. It appeared they weren’t in the queue any more.

“They’ve probably gone to smoke. Yvie, leave it, baby. Brooke is having a good time, look!” Scarlet insisted, as the song came to an end and the girls laughed and hugged each other. Brooke almost took a tumble going down the steps from the podium the stage was on, and flopped back onto her chair.

“I’m the next Beyonce. I’ll take autographs later,” she murmured, Scarlet laughing at her ridiculousness. “I also need to pee. Anyone else?”

Scarlet indulged her and went with her. She didn’t actually need, but she also needed to make sure that Brooke wasn’t about to pass out on a toilet floor, so the two of them crammed into the only cubicle that wasn’t out of order or already in use.

“You’re having a good night, then?” she asked, looking at the grubby floor as Brooke pulled her jeans down.

“I’m actually having…the best time,” Brooke nodded emphatically, carelessly ripping bits of toilet paper out of the dispenser. Scarlet watched it fall like gigantic blossoms as Brooke rambled on. “This was the best idea, Nina is…Nina’s just so good with ideas, she’s going to be a primary teacher…and she’s going to be so good at it…they’ll probably make her a headteacher within the year…”

Brooke finished, stood up, flipped the lid of the toilet seat down unnecessarily loudly, yanked up her jeans, then fell back onto the lid. Scarlet sighed.

“Jesus. This is like babysitting. Come on, zip up your jeans.”

Brooke obeyed, her limbs moving as if she was made of jelly. As she did up her zipper and the button at the top, she kept speaking. “I’m having such a good time, oh my God, Nina just has the best ideas ever…you know this whole thing was her idea? She’s going to make the best teacher ever…I wish I had a teacher like her when I was little…”

Suddenly, Scarlet froze as she heard quiet sobs come from the cubicle next to them, and judging from the way Brooke had stopped talking, she’d heard them too. The two girls were still and silent, and Scarlet could see the same hope dawning on Brooke’s face that she felt in her gut.

Please don’t let this be Vanjie, please let it be some random drunk girl instead…

“Shhh, shhh, babe, c’mon. It’s gonna be alright,” Akeria’s voice was soft, lilting through the wall, and Scarlet felt her heart sink. Fuck. She snuck a quick look at Brooke, whose face was blank and expressionless, just blinking slowly with glazed eyes as she looked in the direction of the voices.

“But it ain’t alright, is it? None of it’s alright,” Vanessa’s voice came, thick with emotion and sadness in a way that made Scarlet’s heart crack.

“Vanjie, the goddess herself Miss Whitney Houston told us that it’s not right, but it’s okay,” Scarlet was unsure who spoke next until she realised that it was Silky, her voice softer and more gentle than she’d ever heard it before. She’d coaxed a blessed laugh out of Vanessa, and Scarlet was glad she was there for her. “You’re here, you’re doing the hard part. It’s gonna get less hard every day.”

Vanessa’s sobs quietened, and a huge sigh came through the wall instead. The next time her voice came it was quiet, nothing more than resigned and sincere. “I miss her…so fucking much, girls.”

“I know you do, angel. I know you do.”

There was a pause, a sniff, and a small stifled sob.

“It just hurts that…I’m still in love with her, and I never got the chance to tell her in the first place.”

Scarlet felt as if she’d just been launched out of a plane on a parachute jump with no goggles, safety gear, or parachute. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This was bad, this was so bad. She looked frantically to Brooke, who had a single mascara tear rolling quickly down her face, her eyes threatening to overflow.

Akeria’s voice was strict. “Who do you love more, Brooke or yourself?”

There was a pause as Vanessa let out a breath. “Myself.”

“Correct answer. Come on, girl, look at you. This ain’t how you spend a night out.”

Another small laugh from Vanjie, meanwhile Brooke looked more broken than Scarlet had ever seen her. Back in the bar, whoever had been singing had finished, and the host’s voice was now booming over the speakers. The loud noise was muffled as it came through the bathroom wall.

“Alright, up next we have the dreamgirls! Do we have the dreamgirls?”

Silky let out a screech. “BITCH! It’s us!”

A little pause, then Akeria’s voice. “Your call, V. Home or stay, what do you want?”

There was a small sniff, a pause, then a scramble from the cubicle. Silky let out a cheer, and Scarlet heard the bathroom door swing open then shut again. Scarlet and Brooke were silent and frozen. Scarlet didn’t know what to say- didn’t know what she could say, so she simply held out her arms for a hug. Brooke stood up, shuffling forward and wrapping her arms around her, Scarlet trying to convey how sorry she was through squeezing her tight. The ditzy, drunk girl from before had been replaced with this quiet statue, and Scarlet didn’t know if she was imagining it or if it had been the confession they’d both just heard but Brooke seemed to have managed to sober up slightly. There was silence, and then Brooke gave a murmur against her shoulder.

“I’m in love with her too.”

Absolutely nothing about Brooke’s admission came as a shock to Scarlet. She sighed, rubbing the taller girl’s back. “Then tell her.”

She felt Brooke shake her head and let out a breath, her ribcage shrinking in Scarlet’s arms then blowing slowly up like a balloon as she took a shuddery, verge-of-tears intake of breath. “No. It’s…no.”

Scarlet nodded understandingly, then stepped back, tilted Brooke’s face up to look at her and swept two fingers underneath each of her eyes, catching her tears before they fell. “Hey. We’re not gonna let this ruin your night, okay?”

Brooke nodded silently. Scarlet knew the words were bullshit as soon as they’d left her mouth but she had to say something vaguely positive, she had to at least offer a speck of hope. She took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it, forcing a grin. “Besides, Silky singing is going to be a mess that we need to experience.”

Brooke let out a snort, a smile gradually creeping onto her face as Scarlet led her out of the cubicle. They washed their hands rapidly then grabbed fistfuls of scratchy paper towels before re-emerging into the bar and sitting down at their table. Plastique, three sheets to the wind, put her hands on either side of Brooke’s face.

“Where were you, bitch?! The girls are doing a song!”

Almost on cue, the lights began to flash purple and pink and a dance bassline blew out through the speakers. Silky’s voice cut through it loudly, the three girls already assembled on stage and holding microphones.

“Good evening, Swan! We are your Dreamgirls, show us some love!”

Scarlet couldn’t help but laugh as she whooped along with the rest of the bar, Akeria launching into her verse in a moderately tuneful voice.

“So you think that you can play around,

And that she will simply stay around,

Did you think that she’d just wait around for you?

Wait ‘til you get the news, wait ‘til you get the news that she’s,

‘Bout to do the same thing, ‘bout to play the same game!”

Scarlet risked a look at Brooke before the girls launched into the chorus. She was sure the song choice had been a coincidence. Maybe not. Scarlet always tried to be optimistic, but Brooke was smiling tightly as Plastique clung to her arm and screeched with excitement. The three girls hit the chorus, attempting and half-succeeding at a harmony.

“When ya good girl’s gone bad, whatcha gonna do,

When she’s out there doin’ the things that you do?

When ya good girl’s gone bad, whatcha gonna say,

When she’s out there playin’ the games that you play?

Whatcha gonna say to that, whatcha gonna do when she hurts you,

Whatcha gonna say to that, whatcha gonna do?”

Scarlet’s attention was pulled from the song as Yvie sat down next to her with two drinks, sliding one across to her. “This is like cats being strangled.”

Scarlet bellowed a laugh. “Aww, come on! They’re not that bad. Plus everyone seems to be loving them.”

She watched Yvie looking around the bar. There were a group of five middle-aged women in front of the stage, dancing around and cheering them on. In the corner, a big stag night group were shouting approvingly during Silky’s current verse, Silky of course winking and waving at them mid-solo. The rest of the bar was either punching the air for the girls or singing along incoherently. Yvie laughed, kissing Scarlet’s temple lovingly. “Babe. Everyone’s pissed.”

Scarlet laughed, shrugging as the three girls launched into the ever-so slightly cutting chorus again. She didn’t look at Brooke, even though she wanted to. Plastique would be looking after her, she hoped anyway. Suddenly Vanessa launched into the breakdown, her voice loud as she sang out into the microphone.

“She’s been watchin’ everything you do,

She’s been learnin’ everything from you,

And it won’t be too long before she shows you just how it feels…”

Silky and Akeria grabbed Vanjie by the waist as they backed her up, making their flatmate laugh as they belted out the last chorus together. Scarlet felt her heart swell up. As much as the whole situation was messy and people were getting hurt, Scarlet supposed it had brought out the love everyone had for their friends. Akeria had said she was done with Vanessa, but she wasn’t, not really. Scarlet could see that as she twerked against her on stage, making Vanessa laugh through her final lines.

“Whatcha gonna say to that, whatcha gonna do when she hurts you,

Whatcha gonna say to that, whatcha gonna do?”

As the pub roared their approval, Silky yelled into the microphone. “Thank you, Swan! Gentlemen…I will be at the bar.”

Scarlet grabbed Yvie’s arm as they both burst out laughing at Silky’s no-fucks-given approach to finding her men. As Scarlet turned to Brooke in the hope that Silky’s comment would’ve made her laugh, she saw with a small flash of panic that her chair was completely empty- no jacket, no bag, and no Brooke.

“Plastique! Where’s-” Scarlet shouted over to her, then realised that she’d had her back to Brooke’s chair and had been talking to Ariel. As the girl turned to face her, Scarlet shook her head. Casting her eyes to Nina’s chair, she found it equally empty. She knew they’d both gone home, and Nina would make her tea as Brooke got upset over the confession she’d overheard earlier. Casting an eye over her friends that remained in the bar, Scarlet did a small calculation in her head. Just over three months until graduation.

Scarlet hoped to God they would all get their shit together soon.

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