#I'll probably read it all in one day and then start it again the next

[lastofthewardens]

oof. probable BIG spoilers for the new show under the cut for people who care about that. nothing is confirmed, but i wholeheartedly believe this to be the truth, so READ AT YOUR OWN RISK because i'm basically just screaming into the void in long form with nowhere else to let this out. my heart hurts so much right now.

for context, i'll be censoring characters/properties i mention that are unrelated so this doesn't show up in those search results.

so i guess the writing is basically on the wall about what will happen with foggy. i tried to stay positive, be delusional, rationalize a way out of what admittedly always looked bad to me. i didn't want to believe it because getting rid of FOGGY NELSON in a DAREDEVIL show seemed absolutely insane to me, especially when there are comic plots they could use to achieve 'matt losing foggy' and then go back on it afterwards. i did my best to not think about it for months at a time, reasoning that it can't be what it looks like, but at this point, the show comes out next week, and here we are.

now obviously nothing can be 100% confirmed until the episode comes out, i'll take all this back if i'm completely wrong, etc. etc. maybe this is the just the CRAZIEST long game of all time, the most coordinated possible lie. but based on the leaks i've seen, the interviews they've been giving, and what we can piece together from officially released material.. yeah, it looks like it's pretty much over.

they all talk like people who are preemptively trying to do damage control. i get the impression they KNOW this will upset maybe not MOST people but some amount of people, and they keep trying to pass blame around, hoping they won't have to take accountability. no one seems to want to own this plot point or acknowledge they've gone along with it. if i'm being completely honest, and i won't go into details because there's no point, but over the past year since this roller coaster started with the first leaks, i've lost a lot of respect for some of the people involved due to the way that they've chosen to engage or conduct themselves with regards to foggy's death.

but my gripe with them is not what this post is about. this post is about foggy.

let me back up first. when i watched daredevil, i didn't care about marvel at all. i was a fan of spiderm*n, but i didn't really read the comics, i only watched the original trilogy movies with t*bey mag*ire and the cartoons when i was a kid. i was primarily a DC fan actually, those were the comics i read, and god, I HATED the MC*U in particular. if you asked me at the time, i would've said something incredibly stupid like "spiderm*n is the only marvel character worth anything", and i would've been sat here years later cringing off the face of the planet remembering i said that.

and then i watched netfl*x's daredevil. i remember instantly falling in love with the show, the characters, the cinematography. man, i was obsessed. i loved everything about it, i loved nelson murdock and page, and i was so glad they let karen stick around because while i didn't read comics then, i was aware of her fate. but my favorite dynamic in the show was matt and foggy, right from the very start. and after years of watching them struggle, sometimes with painfully long waits between seasons, i'll never forget the absolute JOY i felt when they were stood in front of ray in season 3, saying they're going to represent him, and foggy says 'as nelson and murdock, attorneys at law'. united again at last. then nelson and murdock 'officially' became nelson murdock and page, and i was given the happiest possible ending for a show that was cancelled far too early. i carried that happy ending in my heart for a very long time.

when the show ended, i was obviously sad. i wanted to spend more time with all of these characters, and it was being cancelled for reasons that didn't feel fair after an amazingly well received season. i held out hope that maybe one day my favorite show would return, maybe a little different but with the same heart surely. surely. (if only i knew then what i know now). i didn't expect it though, and i made peace with my happy ending because that's something not all shows even get! i was grateful. grateful is the best way to put it.

and so i took that energy with me, and eventually, i decided to read some comic books. matt and foggy's relationship in the comics made me mourn for the season 4 that could've been because in my heart, i know they would've finally mended things properly. they would've worked together as a team again. and while the daredevil comics obviously have tons of other stuff going for them, matt and foggy were still at the heart of that for me. seeing the source material really enhanced my appreciation for the show and the characters, while also giving me something else to love about daredevil because many of those comic runs are amazing.

and when the new show was announced, i was so nervous but so excited. at first. but then what followed from there was a series of rumors over time about foggy and karen not being included at all, about foggy just being a cameo, foggy being KILLED off screen??? i remember just thinking what the actual fuck are they doing. and then everyone was fired! they hired a bunch of new people, said they were fixing things. there was hope. set pictures came out of nelson murdock and page, and for a day, i couldn't have been happier than i was seeing the three of them together again. then the other set pictures came out. videos. stories about those days on set being told by the people who leaked them. leakers who were supposedly reliable (as reliable as any of them ever are) said independently that foggy was still going to die. i was livid and upset and confused about how they could ever think this was a good idea.

for a solid year, i tried to ignore it was happening. 'they couldn't possibly be right, this can't be what it looks like, it's too obvious right? ...right?'. but i think it is what's happening. they are killing foggy nelson, in a daredevil show. and i'm absolutely devastated.

this is such an incredibly huge mistake for them to be making, even objectively. they talk about wanting this show to go on for 'season infinity', saying they have so many stories left to tell, and i just don't get it at all. 60 YEARS of comic history that i've come to love just flushed down the drain. so many story lines discarded, now impossible to adapt. so many story lines gutted, not impossible to adapt but missing the beating heart of it.

and it feels like no one cares. i go on social media, on twitter, on reddit. so many people just seem to think 'well, that's sad, but as long as it's a good story', as if foggy nelson isn't absolutely vital to matt's character, as if their friendship isn't part of the fabric. some people are arguing that 'it's never been done, and bold choices are good!' or else saying that they 'needed to raise stakes', especially to make bullseye look cool, all of which are absurd arguments to me. i remember when adaptations used to be love letters, not shitting on something just for the sake of 'doing something new'. i only wanted to see my favorite characters on screen again.

so the hardest part of this is feeling like there won't be any justice for this colossal fuck up. most people will obviously still watch this show. it will likely be extremely successful. just look at the early reviews, eating it up despite his death in the FIRST TEN MINUTES. they won't get the backlash that they deserve for shitting on the original show and the source material. at worst, a handful of people won't watch, like me, and they'll get some small amount of hate on social media, but largely, i suspect people will move on. (i won't).

there will be no justice. just insane disrespect for foggy's character, insane disrespect for his relationship with matt. i'm less sure about this part, but i've heard there's not even a funeral, that after he dies it goes to the title screen and then a year time skip. skipping all of the immediate aftermath in favor of what.. daredevil doing sick flips? another fight sequence? whatever. they couldn't even respect his character in death, but don't worry guys, i'm sure they totally 'care a lot'.

how they'll choose to handle it throughout the season will remain to be seen (or read and seethed about in my case because fuck that), so i can't speak on this part as much, but it seems like a disrespect to matt's character too. that man would never be happy again if foggy nelson died, but this new team clearly has other ideas.

and they could've fixed this. if you're someone who is upset, DO NOT let them fool you or talk you into thinking their hands were tied. the first and last two episodes are all new content the new team filmed. the story relied on everyone thinking foggy was dead, sure, but he didn't have to actually be dead. there's comic precedent for a fake out, and the death scene is newly filmed content. they even reshot scenes they'd filmed, like vanessa's when they got the actress back. however it plays out, the NEW team decided to make it play out that way. if i'm right and foggy is dead and there's no coming back from it, it's THEM who decided this. instead of making him look dead by constructing a death that he could come back from and then bringing him back after the plot they needed to tell (to keep the footage they already shot) was resolved, they just killed him. hold them responsible, always. don't let them pass the blame around the way they've so obviously been doing. this IS in fact on them, no matter what they say.

but at the end of the day, all that aside, my anger and sadness over this won't change anything. foggy's still dying. he's a character of his own with so many stories left they could've told, but they're discarding him in episode 1. any character development i'd been looking forward to seeing for him is all just gone. so many beautiful moments between matt and foggy just.. tossed away.

i'm a matt fan first. he's my favorite character. but i won't watch this show without foggy. there is no matt without foggy, to me. a permanent death, a matt permanently without foggy, is not a story that i'm interested in seeing or one i think is even worth telling. daredevil stories can be dark, yes, matt loses people close to him, yes, but there can also be a lot of hope, and foggy is his constant. there is no hope here. in retrospect, i know the original show didn't get everything right, but they would never have killed off foggy nelson. they knew how important he was. i believe that in my heart.

and i'm devastated. i've cried, honestly. because i don't know how i'm supposed to engage with anything daredevil now without it being tainted by this. i don't know how to watch the original show and not be thinking about what they've done, that the future of that version of those characters is what it is. i don't know how to read the comics and not be reminded of what could've been for matt and foggy, if people who actually cared about the right things had made this new show.

this isn't just.. a bad new show, that i can ignore, you know? if they'd kept it a reboot, excluded characters, i would've been annoyed but i could've just brushed it off as nothing to me. now that it's a continuation, and they've brought foggy back literally just to fridge him, it feels like something is being taken away from me. the joy that i felt watching season 3, reuniting 'as nelson and murdock, attorneys at law'. the joy that i felt watching foggy write nelson murdock and page on the napkin, and ending that show knowing they were going to be okay, even if i never saw them again on my screen. the happy ending i'd held in my heart all these years. it feels like that's been stolen from me by people who don't really get it at all.

i hope on tuesday i look like a complete fool for writing all of this, that i come back here and delete this post in embarrassment because i'm so completely wrong. i want to be wrong sooo bad, but i don't think that i am, and this all just really sucks. foggy nelson deserves so much better, and so do all of us fans.

[mx-flint]

Just finished rereading Nona the Ninth and. Heartbroken. Again. Lifenis too short and live is too long. You can't take loved away. I will make myself remember.

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[taylor-titmouse]

hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

[augustinewrites]

Ooh shit I had the worlds worst thought— Megumi snapping at Fushigojo mom OF ALL PEOPLE in the heat of some kind or argument or bad day or something and blurting out “you’re not my mom” and then just AAAH IT WOULD BE SO SAD ALL FOUR OF THEM WOULD BE HEARTBROKEN AND MEGUMI WOULD BE SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF 😭😭😭🕳️🚶‍♀️

things have been difficult since tsumiki had fallen into a coma.

it's hard not to feel her absence at home. the empty seat at the dining table, the untouched laundry left folded in the hamper. somehow she's everywhere and nowhere, and it hurts.

you and satoru are heartbroken of course, but you can't begin to imagine how megumi feels.

at first he'd been quiet. megumi had always been quiet, but this was different. the two of you used to sit in comfortable silence, content to read quietly in each other's presence. now he shuffles to and from his bedroom barely uttering a word, silence hanging heavy as you try to coax him into staying.

then his grades had started slipping. you weren't awfully concerned. his teachers had been sympathetic enough to exempt him from final exams, and excuse any late or incomplete papers. despite his record of delinquency, he's always gotten high marks.

you could excuse these things. the silence, the grades. he's a little brother missing his big sister, and he's hurting.

but now he was starting to act out.

picking fights at school, talking back to faculty, giving attitude.

you startle where you stand in the kitchen when the front door suddenly slams shut, revealing a grumpy looking megumi. he kicks his shoes off, making a beeline for his room without stopping to greet you.

satoru holds a hand up before you can ask, walking over to the genkan to fix the sneakers.

"what now?" you ask, wiping your hands on your apron when your husband returns, kissing your forehead.

"suspended indefinitely for fighting," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "he has to write an apology letter to everyone involved, and the headmaster said that next is expulsion."

"he can't keep doing this," you frown. "one of us needs to talk to him."

satoru is quick to touch the tip of his nose. "not it."

you roll your eyes (like megumi would, is that where he got it?) "yeah, it's probably best that you don't. he'd bite your head off."

he leans back against the counter, relieved. "yeah, i'd just— wait. you're doing that reverse psychology stuff on me again!"

feigning cluelessness is easy. "what are you talking about?"

"when you tell me i shouldn't do something and it makes me want to prove myself!"

"not my fault you're an incredibly prideful man."

"and just this once, i'll actually admit that talking to moody teens is not one of my many skills," he says. "this is your territory. you're the only one he might listen to. you've always been his favourite."

deep down, you know that he's right. you're the first one megumi goes to for everything. the first one he comes to with a new bump or scrape. the one whose side of the bed he squeezes into when he has a nightmare. the first one he talks to when he has a fight with a friend, or his sister...

you learned pretty quickly that megumi hated when people fussed over him (it came with his lone wolf tendencies) but he always let you.

so you steel yourself with a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door.

"megumi?" you call gently. "can i come in?"

you decide to take his muffled response as permission, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open.

megumi's sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest.

you close the door behind you. "thank you for letting me in."

he hums, peeking at you over his knees.

you sit on the floor across from him, rubbing your palms against your thighs. "i know that whatever we're feeling can't compare to how bad you're hurting, but we're worried about you."

"i'm fine."

"you're not, and you can't keep acting out at school."

"okay, i'll stop," he shrugs.

you should stop here. but you know megumi. he's only saying it because he knows that's what you want to hear.

you reach out, gently grasping his hand. "megumi, please. you can't keep this all in anymore. you always talk to me—"

"i don't want to talk about it," he snaps, jerking away from your touch. "can you just leave me alone?"

you flinch a little, surprised by the slight raise in his voice. he's never yelled at you. never snapped at you like that.

you're pushing too much, you realize. he's not ready to talk yet, you have to apologize.

"megumi, i'm—"

"just— just stop!" he shouts, expression stormy. "stop fussing over me, you're not my mom!"

to his credit, megumi looks like he regrets the words immediately, lips already shooting off an apology you can't seem to hear.

it does nothing to soothe the way your chest aches, full of hurt and a touch of betrayal. those words shouldn't hurt you as much as they do. he's right, you're not his mother.

but you don't even get to utter a word before the door swings open, a pissed off looking satoru striding into the room. shit. so he had been listening. "listen here you little shit—"

you stagger to your feet, stepping between your boys. "satoru, don't. don't! he's just upset."

"he can't talk to you like that!"

"let it go," you plead. "fighting is the last thing the three of us should be doing right now, okay?"

the three of you stand there for what seems like a lifetime, letting all the pain, frustration, and heartache fill the quiet apartment.

satoru shoots one last stern look around you before drawing a deep breath and focusing on you. you do the same as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumb swiping a stray tear away.

"we're just gonna give you some space, megs."

_____

"he didn't mean it," you remind satoru again that night, when sleep seems to be avoiding the both of you.

"i know. he still hurt your feelings though."

"well, he was right. i'm not his mom."

your husband tuts softly, reaching across the mattress and pulling you into his chest. "so what if you didn't give birth to them? you're something better because you chose them. you chose to love them and raise them when you didn't have to."

"of course i had to. they wouldn't have lasted a week in your care."

"oh? now who's being a little shit? i see where megumi gets his attitude from."

foreheads pressed together, the two of you laugh quietly. you feel light for the first time in weeks. the man holding you close, the boy sulking in his room, and the girl laying in the hospital.

they're your family, and you know they'll always love you as much as you love them.

waking up in the middle of the night to megumi squishing between you both (and satoru actually letting him) is as good a sign as any.

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Five

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Tensions and emotion have been building for weeks and weeks. You're still trying to reconcile what your relationship - and your future - was, and what it is now. Everything comes to a head.

Warnings: Angst. Mention of masturbation and sex. Language.

A/N: Rest of the series can be found here.

"How's my beautiful girl? I can't wait to see how gorgeous you'll look."

You sighed inwardly as you read Jessie's text as you and your friends waited. You were wedding dress shopping today and this was your first booking of the day.

Jessie's text sparked a smile, however it was brief as your eye was drawn to the prior messages from the other day.

------

"Hey, I know it's [y/friend's] birthday dinner on Friday and the reservation is at 6:00. Do you know if we're all starting right away or do you think there'll be drinks first and then dinner later?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Well, it's just that Zoie starts swimming Friday and her class starts at 5:30. I'm just trying to sort out how I might be able to do both."

"Babe?"

"I don't have to go to her class. It's totally fine. There'll be others."

"It's fine Jess. Just show up when you can."

"No, it's okay. They probably won't even do much day one. I'll go to the next one."

"Jess. Go to Zoie's class. She'd want you there."

"You sure? It's not too, too far from where you guys are meeting. So I shouldn't be overly late. I'll bring [y/friend] a bottle of her favourite wine."

"All good. We'll be happy to see you whenever you get there."

-------

You sighed again as you finished rereading. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard and you found it difficult to muster up the energy to respond. You did though.

"You know you're not supposed to see the wedding dress until the actually wedding, right? lol"

You name was called and your head snapped up and a polite smile crossed your face as you stood. You tucked your phone away and your friends ushered you along after the consultant.

"It says here you have a December wedding," the consultant remarked as she turned to you with a warm smile while you walked.

"Oh, yeah," you answered tepidly, somehow caught off guard by the comment.

"Winter weddings are nice! And we don't get quite as many of those," she commented lightly as she continued to lead you and your friends to the room at the back.

"Oh. My fiancée is a footballer, so we scheduled it during her off season."

"Very nice," she said. "Now, what kind of a style were you thinking for your dress?" She asked as you reached your destination and she turned to you with clasped hands awaiting your response.

Your mind went eerily blank. You'd envisioned a dress, or at least a couple, several times before. You'd pictured Jessie standing at the end of the aisle, tears in her eyes as she watched you walk down the aisle. You'd pictured how tenderly she'd hold your hands as you said your vows. You'd pictured her slipping the band on your finger. The kiss.

But right now you just felt tired and you mind slowly churned as it tried to conjure up a vision.

You blushed in embarrassment. "Um, I don't really know. Whatever looks good, I guess," you said with a laugh you hoped didn't sound too forced.

Your friends immediately jumped in with ideas and for that were you thankful.

Soon you were offered option after option after option. One dress held up after another, each awaiting your approval or disapproval, everyone watching you closely. You could feel your nerves starting to fray as this whole exercise began to overwhelm you.

Eventually, to put a stop to the carousel of dresses, you picked the one that actually stayed in your mind throughout the barrage of options. Everyone chattered excitedly as the dress was retrieved and the consultant opened the lush curtains to the fitting room.

You stepped in and she began to prepare some things for you. Subconsciously you retrieved your phone, looking for some kind of distraction and reprieve from the way your heart was beating loud in your chest.

You opened Instagram mindlessly and the first story on your feed was one Sara posted.

You hadn't wanted to add her. But she extended an invite, and, well, Jessie had her now too, so you might as well be in than out.

You vaguely noted the consultant talking to you over her shoulder, but you were more focused on the clip of Jessie and Zoie kicking a soccer ball back and forth at the park, laughing and running together. The caption, "She wants to be just like her mama" sent a searing pain through your chest.

"Okay, you're all set."

"Hm?" You asked blankly as you looked up from your phone to the woman. Your eyes darted between her and the dress and you plastered a smile on your face. "Oh, great. Thank you."

"Don't worry much about fit right now. It's probably going to feel bulky and not quite right, but that's all stuff we tailor and sort out as part of the alterations. Now, do you want to call one of your friends in to help with the dress?"

"Oh, yeah," you said as you shook your head out with another practiced smile while you tried to stay present.

Your friend helped you step into the dress and you even managed to have a laugh during the whole process as she zipped you up. A soft smile was still on your face as she turned you towards the full-length mirrors. She rested her hands on your shoulders as she took you in, a smile of awe on her face.

You looked at your reflection as you stood there in what could be your wedding dress. You were smiling in the mirror, a smile of yours that had become second nature the past few months and one that you were oh so sick of. This image before you - you smiling in this gorgeous gown, a vision of you at the alter - it felt distant and foreign. You didn't recognize this person.

"You look stunning. What do you think?" Your friend asked. You smiled further.

"I like it," you lied.

As she unzipped you later, you purposefully made a request that drew her away and left you to stand there quietly in front of the mirror alone as you held up the dress with one hand.

This should've been a joyous moment. Instead, you felt like you were mourning a future that never came to be.

That image of Jessie laughing and running around with Zoie - knowing that it was Sara watching on, not you - flashed through your mind.

There were two parallel worlds happening. Jessie your fiancée. Jessie, doting parent to a daughter that wasn't yours, dedicated co-parent and partner to someone who wasn't you.

You stared at yourself for a few moments before your eyes began to sting and your lip trembled. You immediately turned away and took a deep, shuddering breath.

You had a choice to make. Or rather, whether you liked it or not, it felt like the choice had been made for you.

---------

You heard Jessie's key slide into the lock and the bolt turn before the door opened. Her voice carried down the hall as you heard her taking off her shoes, bags rustling in hand.

"Hey, you didn't get back to me, so I just picked up some stuff for stir fry. Is that okay?"

You didn't reply.

Instead, you remained seated at the kitchen table, shoulders slack and body listless as you stared vacantly at the shining diamond ring you'd set in the middle of the table. This ring that she'd bought and given to you with love, with promise, intent and dreams.

You absently rubbed your ring finger that now felt naked. In the grand scheme of things, the ring hadn't been on your finger for all that long, but you felt something akin to phantom sensations despite it.

"Oh, there you are. Are you-"

Jessie's words died off as did her steps as she came to a stop a couple of feet from you. You didn't have to look up to know her eyes were fixed on the ring as well.

You room was heavy with silence before you finally forced yourself to look up at her. You could feel tears forming behind your eyes already. Her gaze shifted from the ring to you and you immediately noticed the shimmering of her eyes.

She visibly swallowed and when she spoke her voice trembled just so despite the faint smile she tried to force. "Hey, what's going on?"

You inhaled as you shifted in your seat to face her. You went to speak, but your throat constricted with impending emotion and your lip began to quiver as tears threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say as you looked up at her. She dropped your gaze, eyes shifting to the floor and you noted how her hands balled tightly into fists as she tried to control her emotions. Her eyes remained transfixed on the floor and you repeated yourself, your voice wavering this time. "I'm sorry, Jess."

She didn't say anything right away and you were about to speak when a tear fell from her, catching the light from the room before it hit the ground.

She looked up at you, eyes brimming with tears and looking so crestfallen. Her cheeks were flushed red; you reflected idly on how there was a time when you'd have inspired that in her as a blush, now here you were breaking her heart.

Your shoulders shook as your own tears began to overtake you. You sniffled and began to speak, feeling the need to explain and to fill this aching silence.

"It's not that I don't love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. You're everything I could ever want," your voice rose in pitch as your vocal cords strained. "But I just feel like every day - at one point or another - my heart is getting broken over and over again. I thought I'd be able to fix things. To just get over things. But I haven't. And I'm just starting to feel numb. I-I just don't know what to do anymore."

Jessie's breathing hitched as she began to muster a response, but you forged on feeling like if you didn't say everything you needed to now, you'd just fall back into her arms and that's where you'd stay.

"You have a new life. A new family-" You saw her ready to interject and you cut her off "-it's true, Jess. I know I'm your family, too. But so is Zoie. And Sara. I know you try to dismiss your connection with her, but you are tied to her forever. And I know you don't want to give her precedence over me, but reality is, she's the mother of your child and always will be. You need to put Zoie first, and by proxy, at times Sara - and I can't fault you for that. Your duty and your dedication to your loved ones is one of the many things about you I fell in love with," you forced a laugh as tears fell. You looked at her sadly.

"You gained a family. And I feel like I lost one. It's no one's fault. Maybe that's what makes it so hard." You took a shaky breath. "I think I would've handled this better if I'd come in knowing you had this. But for it to come up the way it has...it's turned everything upside down for me and I just don't know how to right it. I wish I did," you said remorsefully as you dropped her gaze and blinked through more tears. Your hands shook as you wrung them before looking up at her.

"I just don’t feel like I fit anymore. I’ve been trying. I want nothing more than a future with you, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Jessie had been crying quietly as she listened to you speak. Her face was red, her cheeks tear-stained as her chest hitched now and then with unsteady breaths.

Surprise flooded your system and she knelt in front of you. Here she was, on bended knee, taking your hands in hers, sorrow in her eyes and such a contrast from when she knelt before you in much the same way many months before, except that time with unhindered hope and love as she asked you to be hers forever.

“Please don’t do this. I know it’s hard right now. But we can find a way. It’ll get better. And easier. I promise," Jessie beseeched as she looked up at you from her position on the floor.

You didn't know what to say. There wasn't really anything to say. So you just smiled apologetically, hoping she could see how much this was breaking your heart as well.

Jessie searched your eyes and you saw her expression fall furthermore as she cried anew. She clutched your hands as quiet sobs began to take her.

“I’m so sorry. For everything. I never wanted this to happen," she said through her cries. It tore you apart seeing her like this, but in some bizarre way it actually affirmed your decision. You squeezed her hands, caressing the back of them tenderly with your thumbs.

“I know, baby. But I guess this is just how life is. Things can be unexpected. And they don’t always go the way you planned. And this is exactly why this won’t work. You shouldn’t have to feel sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize. You have a gorgeous, sweet little girl. And there’s nothing wrong with that. At all. She deserves all of you and you shouldn't have to choose. And I know I'm the one who's been forcing you to."

You paused, trying to gather your composure, but your voice was still taut as you spoke.

"I'm sorry I'm so selfish. But I also know I'd never forgive myself if Zoie got even the slightest sense that any of this...strife, or difficulty, was because of her. She doesn't deserve that and it's certainly not her fault."

Jessie looked ready to protest. You forged on.

"I truly wish the best for you and for Zoie. And even Sara," you added with a watery laugh before you sniffled. "I know it hasn't been easy navigating things, Jess. I know how hard you tried. And it meant so much that you tried." You let out a brief sob. "Thank you for loving me." Jessie's face collapsed in tears as you said that and she reached up to cup your cheek. You couldn't resist leaning into her touch, but you had to finish what you had to say.

"I stopped wishing that I had gotten to you first. Then you'd be mine, and we could have our old life, or God, that it would be our child we're raising. But even that didn't feel good, because then Zoie wouldn't exist. And that's not right. She's added so much light and love to your life, to your family's - and despite the complications, mine too. I just can't embrace everything the way you have. I can't let go of what I wanted."

You took a shaky breath.

"To be honest - I just don't like who I am right now. How I've been feeling. What I'm bringing to our relationship. So," your features screwed up as you tried to put on a brave face, "it's time for me to go."

Jessie shook her head with a pained expression.

"No, you don't have to. Babe, please," she pleaded as more tears fell, "we can figure this out. I know you feel like you don't fit anymore, but you really do. What can I do to help you see that?" You let her question hang and she stared at you expectantly. She tried to smile, but it flickered with the heartache she was feeling. "We belong together. We love each other."

She said it with such finality it almost convinced you that it was enough.

You looked at her with the first real smile in what felt like so long. You were crying through it, but it was real.

"You deserve so much happiness," you said.

Jessie searched your eyes as she absorbed your words. A sob escaped her and she looked down. A moment passed and she leant her head down and kissed your hand, her lips lingering on your skin for several seconds before she pulled back.

She swallowed visibly as she brought her other hand to yours now as well, clasping yours in both of hers. Her eyes were still trained down as she nodded once. A beat passed and she looked up at you, brown eyes glistening and mournful, but somehow still full of love. She nodded once more as she gave you as brave a smile as she could, no matter how heartbroken she was.

"You deserve all the happiness in the world, too," she whispered, voice breaking.

She rose up higher onto her knees and you both met in a soft, tight embrace. Cries wracked your body and hers as you clung onto one another. You inhaled her scent, eyes closing as you willed yourself to remember it; to remember the feel of her hair, the sound and feel of her breath, the feel of her body against yours - you engrained it all.

---------

Sometimes, when a relationship ends, you don't know how the other person will be. Someone who you felt you knew so well can become a stranger overnight. But, that wasn't the case with Jessie.

She was gracious and loving despite the breakup. So much so that sometimes you had to remind her - as painful as it was - that you didn't belong to each other anymore.

"Hey, I'll be home late night. Midfielders are doing some extra technical work this afternoon. I'll text you when I'm done though. I could bring you home dinner or something though?" She'd asked hopefully one time as you both readied for the day.

"That's sweet of you to offer, but it's okay. And it's considerate, but you don't need to keep me apprised of your day. You don't owe me that," you gently reminded her. She gave you a tight, pained smile as she nodded her acceptance.

"Right," she said with a weak laugh. "Well. I guess I'll see you later, then. Um. Have a good day."

The few weeks until you could take possession of a new apartment had been awkward and delicate. You offered to move in with a friend in the interim, but Jessie had convinced you not to. Well, she wasn't wrong that living out of a suitcase for that long would be unnecessarily annoying, and there was certainly no point in moving all of your things twice. So, you'd stayed, with Jessie insisting on relegating herself to an air mattress in the living room. You'd argued with her, but she'd dug her heels in.

The days went by slowly, and at the same time, your move in date grew steadily closer and the pit in your stomach grew just the same. You'd had cold feet several times, but knew it was just some misguided part of you looking for the easy path and short-term pay-off.

It was hard to not have doubts when - despite everything - you and Jessie still got along so well. While it was undeniably hard to be in the same room as her and not be with her, it was still easy in a way. When you allowed yourself, you could chat about your days, even laugh.

What caused the most confusion was probably the fact that you didn't know how to be Jessie's friend. Even when you and her had been just friends at the beginning - a lifetime ago now - there was always something underlying. You had chemistry from the get-go and it was near impossible to deny.

And now, after everything, how could you possibly pretend to just be friends. How could you pretend you weren't in love with her? How could you pretend that this woman sitting a couple feet from you on the couch didn't preoccupy your every thought and could make or break you with her words.

Hell, that not only did she own your heart and mind, but your body, too. That as you laid there lonely in this bed you used to share, that your hand strayed as memories flooded your senses. Of all those nights, mornings, stolen moments, where she made love to you so passionately and desperately. The feeling so intimate and tender, like you were the only person on this earth with her and you the only one who could give her what she needed while she was the only one who could make you whole.

And with the way she looked at you - sometimes unabashed, sometimes fleeting - how could you pretend that she didn't feel the same way?

During moments of weakness, it seemed a silly thing to fight. In a world as dark and lonely as this one could be, why would you leave someone you loved and who loved you back?

But when Jessie spent nights coordinating things with Sara and then went out with her and Zoie on others, you remembered.

The day came when you took possession of your new apartment. You'd initially resisted her offer to help you move, but your resolve weakened and failed.

She'd worn a bright smile all day as she cheerfully tackled every task. You knew her well though; she was trying far too hard.

She helped you arrange furniture, move boxes around, check all the fixtures in the new place, the list went on. Even after you'd dismissed your friends, she'd insisted on sticking around and began helping you unpack.

Her eager assistance carried on into the night. Each time she finished one task, she readily started on another and good-naturedly dismissed your offers to let her stop.

As she chatted fast and constant throughout the night, hitting any and every topic she could, you saw this woman before you - the woman you well and truly loved - making every excuse to not leave. And truthfully, you were happy to delay the inevitable goodbye.

So for now, you both knew what she was doing, but neither of you vocalized it.

You eventually checked your phone. 12:30 am.

"Okay, so I was thinking of unpacking your books over here for now. I saw this really nice bookcase online the other day - I can get it for you over the weekend if you like. I think it could go really well over here. And-"

"Jess."

Her movements stilled and the room grew silent and heavy. She slowly turned to face you and you could see her thinly veiled trepidation.

You offered her a regretful smile as you fought back emotions and grief that began to bubble up inside of you.

"You should go...," you said gently.

She held your gaze for several moments, seemingly teetering on the edge of whether to protest or not. She nodded sadly and forced a smile that faltered as her eyes began to fill with tears.

She forced a laugh as she closed the space between you.

"It's a nice place. Could use some colour, but I know you'll take care of that," she said as she scratched nervously at the back of her neck and gave another weak laugh.

"Thanks for all of your help. Truly," you said.

Her eyes brimmed with tears and her mouth quivered faintly. "Anytime," she said, voice thick with emotion.

She stared at you a moment longer before exhaling, puffing out her cheeks before trying to choke back tears. "I know we're not together. But," she paused, debating her words, "I really do love you. I know you can't make any promises, but, if you're open to it I want you in my life." A quiet sob veiled as a laugh escaped her. "I don't know what my life looks like without you."

"I love you, too, Jessie," you said. You couldn't lie about that.

She embraced you and you held each other tightly in a lingering, tearful hug. Neither of you wanted to be the first to let go.

You eventually conceded and gingerly, regretfully, extracted yourself from her arms. Her fingers lingered as long as she could let them before you stepped back.

You gave her a watery smile.

"Take care of yourself, Jessie."

The statement seemed to wound her, but she covered it up with a tight smile.

"You too."

As you stood before her, a brief recollection came to you of a time long past; your first date. Even then, you knew with absolutely certainty you were going to see her again. As soon as possible if you could help it.

For the first time since the beginning, you didn't know if or when you'd see her again.

You gave her another quick hug, yet again committing her and everything about her to memory.

"I'll see you," you said softly as you hugged her. "And we'll talk soon. Good night, Jess."

Her cheek brushed against yours as she slowly pulled back. Her eyes shone with fresh tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, offering you a renewed smile instead.

"Good night, Y/N."

----

A/N: I did say that things would get a lot rougher before they got better. Let me know your thoughts.

Tag requests: @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[bratbarzal]

Let It Happen (LH43) 1/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

If you're ready, all I mean is we could go, I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours.

General Warnings: an almost unbearable amount of sarcasm and snark, even more idiotic shenanigans, many affectionate empty threats of murder/violence, fluff, mentions of golf 🤢, cursing and I'm pretty sure that's it for this half

A/N: in line with the general consensus lmao this has been split, part two will be posted as soon as it's finished (lol) but it's best read as one whole fic, it isn't a multi-part situation really!! it was originally supposed to be my submission for the eras tour fic challenge (hence the graphic I'm too attached to to change) but took a different direction to the song I was given, and I missed the deadline, and I pretty much listened to the secret of us exclusively while writing this whole thing. also dropping an overwhelmingly summery fic in december might actually be my brand. keep your eyes peeled for a christmas fic in july.

very special shoutout to shea @sleepretreat I made a random comment one day that luke gives seth cohen energy, and she fanned that flame like a full time job. ily shea!! I hope this lives up to any expectations and I owe a lot to your instigating!!

AS ALWAYS!!! never proofread!! I'll probably get around to it when the thought of a spelling mistake keeps me awake at night. and also!! please let me know what you think I am like a teeny tiny little plant that can only thrive under the constant shower of validation and you don't want me to wither and die do you? (I’m kidding) (I’m not)

You kind of, sort of, think you might hate summer.

You haven’t always felt this way, though. Growing up, it had always been your favourite time of the year. 

No school? Check.

Going on vacation, sometimes multiple, all expenses covered by your parents? Double check.

Getting to do all the cool things you don’t have time for in the school year with all your friends? Concerts, festivals, beach days, bonfires on the evenings. Check, check and check again.

But 4 years ago, your whole world as you knew it was torn apart, and summers have never been the same, since.

A season that was once filled with light and companionship, never ending plans and joviality, became darker - isolated, getting yourself out of the house even if everyone else was busy, driving just to drive and making the best of your own company. 

School ended up becoming your escape, especially since you had started college - your studies and the chaos of Greek life distracting you from the calamitous state of your home life, making new friends that became like family and sticking to them like glue, where possible, clingy and possessive to the point of ruin, almost - and so the lack of it in the summers now actually sends you into some sort of warped spiral.

It’s manageable in the winter and spring, the breaks no longer than a few weeks at a time, but going home for summer is somewhat of a nightmare.

It’s hard to go back, hard to ignore the mess your mind has become when it’s just you and your mother - or, you, your mother and whatever bottle of pinot she’s 3 glasses deep into at any given time of the day - and you’re sat in a house that’s a cold reminder of the warmth that once filled it. 

But when Ellie - your best friend since moving to college, the girl who took the sister part of sorority sister to the next level at all possible opportunities over the years - found out you’d put your name down to be the caretaker for your sorority house instead of going home, she had put her foot down on your summertime sadness session.

Which is how you end up moving into her family home - spending the first few weeks integrating yourself into their routine while trying to grip desperately onto some form of your own - trying not to get too used to the feeling of such a big family when you know it won’t be forever.

You braid her little sister’s hair everyday, kick a soccer ball around with her little brother when he needs someone to stand in goal, wash the dishes with her mom, talk sports with her dad, and before long, you blend like a chameleon into their dynamic.

You pick up a summer job at the country club to cling back onto your independence. Your commute provides the solitude and quiet you‘ve grown accustomed to in the years before, a bus journey through town with headphones on, watching the scenery and admiring the greenery until you get to work, donning your navy blue polo and tucking your little notepad into your hip apron as you serve tables at the clubhouse restaurant and bar. 

It’s a much needed escape from Ellie, if you’re honest.

You love that girl with all your heart, appreciate her housing you more than you’ll ever be able to say, but if you have to hear her sit and mope about how hopelessly in love she is with Jack Hughes for even a second longer, you’re going to vomit. Or scream. Or both.

Jack and Ellie grew up together - their families close, Ellie’s dad best friends with Jack’s uncle, or something - and she’s been into him since he had teeth missing - a point she loves to hammer home when it comes to you always listing that as one of his (many, if it’s up to you) cons. Considering his job, and the fact he already lost one, not too long ago, a toothless boyfriend seems like a massive ick, if you’re honest. 

But Ellie is beyond reason when it comes to him. She worships the ground he walks on - talks about him non-stop, messages him every day, regales you with stories you, awfully, but realistically, couldn’t care less about - and it’s the only real problem about living with her.

Even beyond the summer, you two had shared a room your first two years in college, still live in the same house - and it’s a year round problem.

But being unable to escape, having your days tied to close to hers, and knowing that it’s bound to be worse with proximity, Jack back in Michigan for the summer, himself, she’s starting to drive you up the wall.

It wouldn’t bother you if you had never met Jack, but the two of you don’t exactly get along. He’s rude, and self-absorbed, and had looked down on you the first time he ever laid eyes on you, and you really shouldn’t let it get to you, but you do - the thought that your best friend is in love with an asshole, and that she won’t let you hear the end of it. 

Won’t stop whining about how he’ll never feel the same, or that she can’t handle another summer of biting her tongue, of being around him, feeling the way she does, and not being able to do anything about it.

She deserves better. 

Ellie has a heart of gold, and she deserves someone who handles it with care. If Jack Hughes doesn’t like her back, that’s his loss - but you’re kind of getting sick of telling her that.

Getting through a whole summer of it is going to be hard, you think, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than being entirely alone. So you put on a brave face, use work as your escape in the same way you usually do with school, and avoid blowing your top for as long as you can, suffering through the late nights and heart to hearts where Jack is the sole topic of discussion, and bask in the good stuff.

In the chaos of her siblings, in the closeness of her family, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms.

This summer could be okay, you’ve just got to give it a chance. 

Luke Hughes loves summer.

He loves being back home in Michigan, spending his days out on the lake, or making the trip out to parade around Ann Arbor, catching up with all his college buddies, making the rounds at all the UMich sporting events he now gets a VIP pass to thanks to his last name.

The routine of it all is familiar, and warming, and it restores a sense of normality that playing in the NHL for the past year has so brutally ripped from him, already. 

He had enjoyed starting his summer overseas - making the team for the world championships and competing beyond the abysmal end to his rookie season - had enjoyed the time away from his brothers, if he’s honest. Quinn and the Canucks making it a few rounds into the playoffs, and Jack back home recovering from getting surgery on his shoulder - and it’s the latter he needed the reprieve from.

He does love living with his brother.

Jack looks after him in ways he’ll never really be able to make it up to him for. He always has, Quinn has too, but ever since Luke got drafted to the Devils, Jack has helped him adjust to the chaos of his career without much fuss or hardship.

And he really is grateful for that.

But, God, can he be annoying.

Especially when it comes to his infatuation with his best friend, Ellie.

Jack and Ellie have always been close - despite the fact she’s Luke’s age - and grew up thick as thieves, spending summers together, especially when the family moved to Michigan, and Ellie’s family were just on the other side of town. 

He’s always been obsessed with her, even if it hasn’t always been love - but these last few years have been different. Like a switch flipped in his head when Jack saw what Ellie was like when he came to visit Luke in his freshman year of college.

A version of Ellie that was no longer just his - no longer exclusive to their summer bubble, and lived in a world beyond lounging by the lake and hanging out with the Hughes family.

A version of Ellie who liked partying, liked schmoozing and charming everybody she came into contact with, liked being the centre of everyone else’s attention, not just Jack’s.

And it’s that version of Ellie that has driven Luke’s brother crazy, which has, in turn, started to drive Luke crazy. He talks about her non-stop, and it was those much needed weeks away in Czechia that almost had Luke forgetting just how stupid his brother has gotten about the whole thing.

Until he came home to Michigan, and Jack, in all the commotion with his shoulder, with ending his season early and starting his summer off alone, has worked himself into such a stupor about the whole thing that merely a week into his return, he has driven Luke up the wall. 

He’s grumpy, all the time - which leads to him being snarky, all the time. He huffs and puffs around the house so much Luke is starting to think he might need an inhaler, and he really can’t take any more.

Not when he’s making such a show of his irritation, stomping around with heavy feet and slamming doors that don’t need to be shut in the first place. 

“What crawled up your ass and died there?” Luke frowns as he follows Jack into the kitchen upon his return from therapy, holding out for the doors he swings open with a little too much vigour so that they don’t swing back into his brother’s slinged-shoulder. “I thought the physio is going alright?”

“It is,” Jack huffs, storming over to the fridge and yanking it open, the jars and bottles in the door clanking together in a way that makes Luke cringe. “I’m fine.”

“Tell that to all the hinges you’re testing the limits of.” 

“Don’t start with me, Luke, I’m not in the mood.”

“You just said you’re fine.” Luke rolls his eyes as he starts to scroll through his group chat with his friends from college, trying to check who said they might be free today to get him out of this vicious circle.

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly not.” It’s interactions like this that confirm to Luke just how annoying Jack has become - because what reason does he have to be so evasive? Luke is handing him the opportunity to air out his grievances on a silver platter, and he’s rather slam cupboards and create creases in his forehead from frowning 24/7.

“Fine, it’s Ellie.”

Luke wishes he never bothered asking, although he has been wondering why he’s been seeing way less of her already this summer. He had figured Ellie was away with family until he saw her at the gas station the other night - had watched from the car as Jack had what seemed like a heated conversation by the entrance. 

“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”

“Has she said why?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t really care. He’s just asking to get it out of the way in the hopes that Jack talking about it might lighten the load, might make his own life a little easier. 

It’s the bitter muttering of your name that captures Luke’s full attention, his neck audibly cracking at the speed in which his head shoots up, no longer caring what could possibly be going on with the boys in the group chat. 

“She isn’t going back to whatever fiery hell pit it is that she comes from for the summer, and she’s staying with Ellie’s family, therefore Ellie isn’t staying with us.”

Luke hasn’t heard your name in a while. Not since he left college last year, not since he got caught up in the whirlwind life in the NHL, when a schoolboy crush on a girl he interacted with once in his entire college career became the least of his worries.

But one utterance of it has his spine straightening, just like it would have done just over a year ago.

You’re in Michigan. You’re at Ellie’s, on the other side of town. You’re barely two degrees of separation from him.

“Why can’t Ellie bring her here?” Luke asks, throat dry and voice breaking so subtly that he hopes Jack doesn’t notice. That could be fun. Would make up for the hell his brother has been putting him through since he got here. 

Maybe a little glorious sunshine might finally get you to notice his existence. He wouldn’t mind third wheeling Jack and Ellie if you were there, too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to prove he’s worthy of your attention - too shy and too scared to do so, back in college, but he’s different, now. Confident, almost. More sure of himself.

“She hates me.” Jack huffs, “Last time we met she was giving me the stink eye all night.”

And of course it would be his brother to ruin his plans, yet again. You’ll probably hate him, too - a hatred so strong for Jack that it seeps through his entire bloodline, because Luke of all people knows he can be annoying like that. 

“Trust me, she probably doesn’t care enough to hate you,” Luke scoffs, not realising the spool of information he’s just given Jack to unravel. 

“You know her?”

“We had a class together. I know of her.”

Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.

Luke knows a lot about you. It’s borderline creepy, the observations he can still remember, even after so long.

He knows you like only like coffee if it’s iced, had seen you with too many clear plastic cups to count, had watched plump lips chewing at straws by the time you had finished the drink. He had even, one time, tried to zoom in on a picture of your order printed on the side in one of his many states of delusion where he had been trying to build himself up to ask you out. 

He knows you can hold your own in an argument, had watched you debate with the best of them in your business comms class, has watched you shoot down most guys that approach you with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and has watched you take down a frat guy or two, usually in defence of your sorority sisters - who Luke noticed you’re the most protective of. 

He knows you match your perfume to the colour of your outfit, had notice you smelled citrusy like lemons in yellow, floral like roses in pink, sweet like candy in purple, and clean like fresh cotton in blue. 

He knows the pieces of hair that frame your face curl when wet from the rain. Knows you used to volunteer at the pool on the weekends it was open to the kids of the community, would teach them how to swim. He knows you listen to Taylor Swift and has heard you humming just about every song of hers he knows.

But he doesn’t really know you - not on the level Jack is assuming, when his eyes widen and hope flashes across his crystal irises.

“You know how I’m your favourite brother?”

“No,”

“And I let you live with me all year?”

“My name’s on the lease.”

“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”

Luke sighs, shoulders heavy and eyes rolling practically to the back of his head. “I already told you, I don’t really know her like that.” 

“C’mon, you could at least try! I’m dying here, Luke! She’s hogging all of Ellie’s time, and she won’t give me the time of day if I try!”

If only Jack knew how much time you’d ever given Luke, he wouldn’t be asking him such an absurd request.

You’re so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. He probably couldn’t convince you to light a candle in a power cut, much less to give his annoying brother a shot to prove himself.

“You’re wasting your time, Jack,” Luke responds, “I’m gonna meet Dylan at the club. No, you can’t come.”

And by the time Luke makes it out to his car, he’s relieved to have ditched that conversation, entirely. He knows what’s waiting when he gets home, what his brother is going to be like for the next few months to come, but a temporary relief is all he needs.

He had already been planning on getting a few late morning holes in at the club, and meeting up with Dylan had been a white lie, needing some alone time away from Jack’s incessant whining to think about how he was going to survive the summer - and seeing you on your break, perched on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard by the clubhouse bar, basking in the sun and talking with your co-worker, he feels like he might have just struck gold.

Since when do you work here?

He supposes since you decided to spend your summer with Ellie’s family - it only makes sense. Ellie doesn’t live too far from the club - not as close as the lake house, but closer than Ann Arbor, at least. She’d worked in the club shop last summer, even when Jack insisted he’d pay for whatever she needed while she was staying with them - had said it was nice to pass the time with something else while they all went off doing whatever - and he assumes you’re doing the same. 

It’s the first time he’s seen you in a while, outside of coming across your pictures on his Instagram feed occasionally, or the flash of your figure in Ellie’s stories. 

He had thought that, after the year he’s had, he’d be over schoolboy crushes like this - would be over the way his breath catches just at the sight of you, over the way the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and stand to attention, over the way his throat goes dry as he watches your eyes crinkle from afar, watches your lips curve up into a heart-stopping grin.

But it’s like he’s picked up straight from where he left off at the end of his college career, pining after you from afar with hearts in his eyes and feet that start to shuffle at just the thought of approaching you.

If he’s going to do this, though, he needs to be clever about it, he thinks.

Approaching you on your break, limited to the amount of time he can use to put his point across, wasting yours, doesn’t seem like something that will work.

Which is how he finds himself bypassing you completely and walking straight into the bar, offering a friendly nod to the guy stood at the front of house, and letting him point him toward the right section to be served in. 

It isn’t long before you’re in front of him, sidling up to his booth, and he had almost forgotten how pretty you are up close. Hair clipped up with loose strands framing your face, chewing at your plump bottom lip as you scribble on your notepad to get your pen to work. And your honeyed voice settling deep in the pit of his stomach, warmth spreading throughout as you introduce yourself, like he has no clue who you are, and tell him you’ll be his server, “What can I get for you?”

“Five minutes of your time?”

The Luke that spent his college years obsessing over you might have stuttered - his voice might have broke, squeaked or choked in your presence - but while his throat does feel a little dry, he’s able to maintain his cool now, even when you look up from your scribblings to meet his eye. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he has matured.

His heart might jump in his chest, his mouth might tingle, his spine might stiffen, but he holds your gaze, hoping if you see a reflection of confidence that you might give him the time of day.

He’s seen you interact with guys before, has familiarised himself with the ten-foot walls you have in place, has seen others fold and try find a long way around, but he thinks that maybe matching your energy is the way to break through. 

Who doesn’t love a shortcut?

Your eyes narrow back at him as pouted lips form around a response, looking him up and down before tilting your head, and coming back with, “I all of a sudden feel the need to inform you we do have security here,” you point the tip of your pen to the entrance, where he was greeted on the way in. “I meant a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” his gaze flickers to the movement of your wrist as you click the other side of your pen, not even writing it down. “Maybe with a side of conversation?”

“I’ll go get your water,” you offer a smile, and the insincerity of it does little to cool his bravado, even if you head off with mutterings of why do I always get the creeps?

He watches you as you make your way over to the bar, not creep-like whatsoever, and he channels the nerves that sneak up on him, now that you’re distanced, through fiddling with his fingers on the table, pinching at the tips of them when you glance back over your shoulder, probably telling the girl behind the bar just how lucky you were to once again get the weirdo in your section.

It surprises him how little he cares, possessing more of your attention now than he ever has before, and if he could tell the Luke from two years ago, who spent every shared Principles of Marketing class ritualistically watching you chew on the end of your pen, that he’d be able to make eye contact without dribbling and breaking out into full body sweats, he’d have lost his mind.

He embodies a strange level of dislocated arrogance that manifests itself in his body language, sinking into the booth with arms outstretched across the back, a dangerous smirk teasing the corner of his mouth when you return, placing a pitcher of water down on the table and a glass with ice. 

“I’m Luke,” he tells you, placing a hand on his chest and doing his best to ignore the thudding he feels beneath it. “Hughes. Jack’s brother,” and when you look back over to him with a raised brow, he adds, “Ellie’s Jack.”

“And who’s Ellie?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your voice dripping in teasing sarcasm. 

“Funny,” he quips, biting back the urge to call you what he actually means. He can hardly call you cute, you’d probably pour that water straight over him. “I went to UMich, we had a couple classes together.”

Your eyes narrow again, and he knows it’s an intimidation tactic, a way to make him feel smaller than he’s acting, shrinking him down to a version of himself you can stamp your authority on, but he finds himself being resilient for once, carrying on like he isn’t affected.

He is. Massively, in fact. Just not in the way you probably want. Your indifference drives him in a way that presses into his spine, an inner voice pleading, notice me, I’m breaking through!

“Bauman’s class, Business Comms, you sat in the second row, I sat in the third, you dropped your pencil one time and I-,”

“I know who you are.”

So he’s been yapping on at you for no reason? Fantastic.

He can’t let his momentum slip, though, so he forces the corners of his lips into a victorious smile, and counters, “So you know I’m not a creep.”

“You literally memorised my seat in a class from 2 years ago, so…” 

“I have a good memory,” he’s quick to defend, fighting the urge to let his eyes linger on your pouted lips.

“Right,” you roll your eyes, “What is it you want, again?”

“I came to talk about Jack and Ellie.” He nods to the other side of the booth, and has to roll his shoulders so that his chest doesn’t inflate with misplaced hubris when you shuffle into the seat with a huff, discarding your notepad to the side as you level him with another raised brow.

“What about ‘em?”

“About how they’re hopelessly in love with each other and doing nothing about it.”

“You got hopeless right. What’s that got to do with us?”

Us. Oh, he likes that.

“I’m thinking they need a little shove in the right direction. And maybe we could be the shovers.”

You presses your lips together in faux-apology, a lopsided, patronising, adorable frown taking over your expression. “No can do, I don’t shove, I’m a pacifist.”

“A nudge, then?”

He isn’t giving up easy, no matter how much sarcasm you try to throw his way. You wouldn’t have sat down if there wasn’t something about this situation that irks you, too.

If Ellie is being only half as annoying as Jack is, he knows that you’re having a bad time of it. And you’re supposed to spending her summer with her - it can’t be easy, having your friend constantly pining over someone and refusing to do anything about it, if anything, making it your problem.

“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”

“Both,” he smiles, “I just figured a problem shared is a problem solved, and all.”

“How profound.” 

“C’mon, you sat down, you at least agree they’re into each other, and I know you’re staying with her this year, so I know you’ve been getting the same grief I have.”

“I’ve been on my feet 4 hours, I wouldn’t look too deep into me sitting down.” 

“Jack’s been moping around about her for years, I can’t listen to it anymore, he’s all, she’ll never like me back, this, and, I’ll never find a girl like her, that,” he whines, imitating his brother’s voice in the most annoying, high pitched tone he can muster, “I can’t take one more breakdown of her snap stories, especially not if it’s all summer if she’s not gonna be staying over, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“How supportive,” the sarcasm in your bite does little to hide the beginnings of your smile, your glare softening into what he hopes is the start of some sort of bond, a shared feeling of exasperation. Finding your footfall in common grounds.

“It’s relentless, we can’t go a single conversation anymore without him bringing her up,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, finally giving in to all the ways this is starting to grate on him. “I don’t get why neither of them do anything.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, too, relenting a little. “She talks about him so much it kind of makes me nauseous.”

“How supportive,” he mimics, nerve endings set alight when your eyes meet his over the table, and narrow in a different way, almost appreciative, almost respectable.

“Can it, Hughes,” you scoff, “Me even entertaining this conversation right now is support enough, I’ve had it in my ear for months about how she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through another summer.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If we can get them together this summer, then we’re both better off. No more whining or crying or earaches for either of us.”

“I’d hope you didn’t make your way out here with the mere promise of no more earaches, Luke.” He tries not to preen at the way you say his name. “What’s in it for me?”

“You and Ellie can stay at our lake house.” He suggests, straightening up before he leans onto the table, elbows extending so that he can rest on them, “It’s closer to the club than her family’s place, it’s gotta be better than having her siblings running around you all the time, I can even drive you to work when I’m free, if you want?”

You blink at him slowly, as if to say, and? “So I can stay at your glorified frat house, and you can be my chauffeur?” You ask with an unimpressed raise of your brow, before letting out a humourless scoff of, “What more could a girl want to do with her summer?

“What do you want?” He asks, leaning further forward.

“To go back to work and not worry about strange guys propositioning me, funnily enough.”

Luke laughs, a deep, breathy laugh that rises from the depths of his chest and comes alive in an almost-bark, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his mouth when it comes out.

This is fun. 

There’s no way he’s letting you leave this table without agreeing - just the thought of one more singular interaction keeping him on his toes.

“Why don’t we make it interesting, then?”

“It’s about time you tried.” The quiver of your lip tells him everything he needs to know - and that’s without the entertained glint in your eye that accompanies it. You’re enjoying this, just as much.

“We could make a competition out of it.”

“A competition?” You ask, with a curious tilt of your head.

There it is, he thinks. Interest: piqued. He practically has you in the palm of his hand. Who would ever have thought, the way to a sorority girl’s heart would be a friendly little wager?

“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”

It’s all he can think of in the moment - petulant and part-planned, but it seems to be enough.

“Wins what?” You lean onto your elbows, your gaze levelling his as he mirrors your positioning, having to slouch a little further forward in his seat to meet your pretty eyes. 

“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t intend it to come out as low as it does, doesn’t realise how close the two of you have gotten over the table, but he sees the flicker of something cross your features as your head tilts again, eyes still locked on his as yours begin to narrow, still just as pretty even when they’re glaring at him.

“It’s what you want that concerns me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” he jibes, watching the way your lips part in preparation of another witty comeback. “What do you say?” He asks, not giving you the chance, seeing the way it makes your skin crawl that you weren’t quick enough, for once. “Are you in?”

You heave out a sigh, shoulders slumping - a tell-tale sign that you’re about to acquiesce - and Luke starts to feel his chest puff out in victory. This feels like a shut-out. It feels like the best performance of his life. 

“You’re gonna make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Oh definitely,” he smirks, eyes tracking you as you lean back into the booth, retreating from him in defeat, a hand running through your hair as he promises, “You’ll warm up to me soon enough, though.”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“I can,” he shrugs, leaning back too. “I’ve been told I’m inevitable.”

Luke can remember, like it was yesterday, the first time he ever saw you.

Freshman year, the week he moved into his dorm at Michigan, Jack had sent him across campus to check in on how Ellie was getting on. He had arrived with some extravagant gift basket in tow, plastic wrapped, a giant blue bow tied around the top and an assortment of snacks inside, and was left knocking for at least five minutes before you showed up.

“Please tell me you’re not another stripper-gram.”

If his throat hadn’t gone so dry all of a sudden, he thinks he would have had more wits about him to have questioned the use of another - a concept that had stuck in his head for weeks until he caught wind of a story of pledges for Pike being sent around campus and forced to lure girls to their house through way of humiliating song. 

But God, you were pretty. 

Siren eyes narrowed toward him, glossy lips pouted pensively, long lashes blinking impatiently as you awaited some kind of response that didn’t come in the form of an open, drooling mouth.

“I’m Luke.”

“Right.” You had sighed, pretty eyes rolling at him. “You’re blocking my door."

“Oh, I’m-,” he stuttered, immediately stepping to the side for you to come forward and insert your key into the lock. “Does Ellie live here?” He asked, confusion etched into his features as he watched you swing the door open, turning in your place to look him over again.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m Luke.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I know her.”

“Clearly.”

“This is her basket.”

“Does she need to sign for it?”

“No, I-,”

“I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks, Lu!”

And when you had taken the basket from his hands, he had been too distracted by the way your skin brushed against his to properly respond, or worry if you had called him that as a nickname or had already forgotten his name, entirely.

He then spent days thinking about you, looking for you - at parties, in the campus coffee shop, online, despite not knowing your name - trying to commit to memory the way your eyes had sparkled when looking his way, until his first Business Communications class.

He had been a little early, first week nerves playing out and his constant craving for positive validation coming to the forefront, and was watching the door waiting for the professor to arrive. He had been slouched in his seat, chin in the palm of his hand, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and he had almost given himself whiplash when you walked in. 

He learned your name from there, learned a lot just from watching you in that class, but never really captured your attention.

And if the Luke that has been driving you to work every few days, who has been living with you for the past two weeks - who sits around the same dining table, laughs at the same jokes cracked when you’re all lounging around the house, sits out under the same sun, drinks from the same carton of orange juice in the morning - could tell the Luke that sat pining after you all that time, all the little ways in which he’s captured your attention lately, he’d probably have an aneurysm. 

When you and Ellie moved in, Luke had been the only one allowed to touch your stuff - and there’s a part of him that knows it was mainly because you enjoyed watching him work like a packhorse, hauling your cases up the stairs and dropping them in front of you with a huff, but there’s a larger, more delusional part that thinks you preferred him to the others, maybe even trusted him.

He’s taking credit for how quick you’ve adapted to the dynamic of the house, too. Of all the different faces coming in and out - Quinn’s friends, Jack’s friends, his friends, sometimes even his parents. If you’re around, you’re pleasant. You abide by house rules, some of them stupid, but set by the brothers so long ago that they just work now - like no phones outside of your rooms so that you can be more present. You insert yourself comfortably into conversations, you form your own relationships with everyone - you and Quinn trade book recommendations, you and Jack bicker while Ellie mediates. You do your fare share of chores - laundry, dishes, cooking, even. 

And he’s so caught up in just sharing space, just being around you, even, that for those first couple weeks, he forgets why you even agreed to be there in the first place.

At least, he forgets the incentive part - because he watches mindlessly as you interfere in Jack and Ellie’s dynamic, without a care in the world for the fact that it means he’s losing.

He watches you push one of them out of the way to claim whatever seat at the table or in the car forces them to sit beside each other. He watches you taunt Jack to just the right point where Ellie interferes, coos at him protectively and he melts into her affections. He watches you agree to plans he knows you wouldn’t in a million years follow along with, just to get them together - and all he can do is admire how easy you make it seem. 

He admires when you come out wakeboarding with the group, when you let him fasten you into a vest and don’t flinch when his fingertips brush against bare skin. Watches you bite your tongue over the fact you just got your hair blow dried - a fact you have no problems relaying back to him when he drives you to work the next day, and you’re muttering in his passenger seat about lake water giving you frizz - just so you’re not dampening the mood.

And when you agree to tag along to the golf course on your day off, despite the fact it’s so close to work if could be considered triggering, and you stick by Luke’s side so that Ellie can feign some sort of incompetence until Jack takes it upon himself to correct her form.

You stand by Luke’s side, the two of you watching with mirrored expressions of almost-disgust as Jack wraps his arms around Ellie’s body, and send a shiver down his spine when you lean in for only him to hear as you say, “I’d ask if you’ve put any more thought into what you want out of our bet, but I so have this in the bag.”

The bet.

Luke hasn’t thought about it since that day in the restaurant, if he’s honest, but he had known what he wanted then.

He’s hardly going to tell you, now, though. 

If he’s ever going to take you out on a date, he doesn’t really want to force your hand - not that he has a chance, he’s fallen so behind with this Jack and Ellie thing that it isn’t even funny.

He needs to up his game, if only for the fact that you’ll no doubt catch on to his lack of efforts, soon.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he taunts, because it’s what he does best, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“And how long do you plan on keeping them up there?” You call him out so easily, tilting your head when his eyes meet yours, mischief highlighted by the sunshine that speckles in your irises. 

“Maybe I’m luring you into a false sense of security,” he shrugs, “Maybe I’m letting you do all the heavy lifting so I can swoop in when those weak arms get tired.” He pokes at your side, basking in the way you scowl like you pertain any sort of threat to him.

He has you figured out, by now. 

“I didn’t have you pegged as being lazy, Hughes.”

“You spend a lot of time thinking about me, huh?”

“You wish,” you scoff, shoving when he dares to get too close, and it’s when Luke is biting back a full-blown grin that Ellie comes back over. 

“This sun is crazy, I think I left the sunscreen in the locker room and Jack’s nose is going all red, would you come back with me?”

You smile sweetly at your best friend and agree, only glaring at Luke over Ellie’s shoulder when she’s distracted with saying her brief, temporary goodbyes to Jack, and once you’ve turned and made your way over to the cart, he lets his eyes linger on your figure as you retreat.

The soft sway of your ponytail, the expanse of smooth skin along your legs, he’s completely hypnotised, and he needs to pull himself together, he thinks.

He tries to regain focus as he and Jack work their way through the next couple of holes, caddying their clubs around without the cart, and chatting mindlessly until Jack sighs heavily, like he’s been waiting to bring something up.

“I want to take Ellie out on the boat tomorrow,” He states as Luke tees up, resting on his club as he squints against the sun to watch his little brother, “Just the two of us, so we can talk about stuff.”

“Sounds riveting,” the disinterest in Luke’s tone is amplified by the lack of attention he’s giving overall, looking out across the green and trying to measure his swing before he takes it. “Have fun.”

“I was thinking I’d need your help for it to work.”

“I’m not being your boat-butler again,” Luke scoffs, mind immediately going to all the times their parents would make Jack take Luke out with him and his friends, and all the times he was made to wait on his older brother hand and foot to make up for crashing his hang-outs.

“I’m not asking you to tag along,” Jack scoffs, “You third-wheeling would be the ultimate buzz-kill. I thought you could be of use elsewhere.”

“You’re making whatever it is sound so fun.” 

Luke takes his swing, driving the ball and watching it soar to his desired point with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Jack watches too, stepping to Luke’s side to measure how far from his own ball it lands.

“Nice,” he mutters appreciatively as the two of them load their clubs into their stand bags. “I need you to keep Regina George busy, distract her or something, she’s stuck to Ellie like glue, it’s beyond annoying.”

If only he knew, Luke thinks, a worry in the back of his mind about how his brother owes more to you than he even realises. 

“You worried she’s gonna make her see sense?”

Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.

“I’m worried she’s gonna ruin the good vibes like she usually does and I won’t be able to bite my tongue from saying something and looking like the asshole.”

Distracting you isn’t the worst thing he could be doing with his time, Luke thinks. It’s not like he has to go all out, you’ll no doubt be hanging out around the house and the two of you can hang together. All he has to do is keep you off your phone. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve adapted pretty well to mimicking the guys when it comes to staying off theirs.

It ticks off the box of trying to fight for a scrap of your attention. With no one else around, you’ll have no choice but to entertain his company.

And it puts him in front of your little race - lending a helping hand to Jack’s plans to talk to Ellie is surely the same as getting them together. It’s all falling so perfectly into his lap. He isn’t being lazy.

But he can’t let Jack know that, so he heaves out a sigh and offers a slow shake of his head for dramatic effect. “Fine,” he groans, “But you owe me. Big time.”

You’re starting to find it harder and harder to pretend like you don’t want to be at the Lake House.

If you’re being honest, you don’t entirely know why you’re even trying to keep up pretences, but using your disinterest as armour has become like second nature over the years, and you’re hardly going to stop now.

Even if there are already so many little things about being there that are starting to wear you down.

Quiet, early mornings, for one - birds chirping just outside your open window, sun rays pouring in through sheer curtains that flow in the slight breeze, that light feeling that blows through your chest when you’re sat out on the deck behind the house with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out over the still lake and basking in the peace of it all.

And even when it’s not so peaceful, when the kitchen is full of bodies swerving around each other to try and throw together some sort of breakfast spread - pastries and fruit, bacon and eggs, various boxes of cereal on the counter. Quinn had even made a whole batch of pancakes one morning, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t come down every day since hoping to see him donning that same frilly apron that Cole had draped around his waist and working his magic with a pan. 

You’ve never really been a part of such a full house. You had been an only child for so long - and by the time your parents split, and it was just you and your mom, on the days she wasn’t already at work when you got up - and were so ingrained in your own routine in the morning that you think you might actually need the chaos to function better. The rush of bodies, the arguments over who drank the last of the juice, the bickering over who’s turn it is to do the next grocery run - it’s a kind of entertainment you haven’t been privy to in a long time. 

Being kind of disconnected from everything else isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, either. You’re not attached to your phone, checking socials to see what everyone else is doing, to see if your dad has sent any messages yet this summer, and you find yourself connecting a little more with the people around you and leaving your family stress on the back burner. You’re more focused on what’s in front of you, and your relationships with other people. With Ellie, with some of the guys in the house, with your friends at work, even.

And it’s nice to be closer to work too. You don’t have to rush around trying to make the bus - Luke has been keeping his word and driving you to the club most days, and where he can’t, either somebody else has offered, or you’ve just ridden one of the bikes in the garage that the boys said were free to use - the helmet hair is an easy fix when you have access to the locker rooms.

It’s an adjustment, for sure, getting used to being in a full house. Especially this one - with a constant revolving door of faces, friends of the brothers switching out week by week to come and stay, departing just as you’ve started getting to know them with a promise of dropping by again soon.

So far, you’re almost at double-digits for the names you’ve had to memorise. Some of them you were already familiar with, guys from Michigan who you already knew or knew of, but others were more Jack or Quinn’s friends that you’d never had the pleasure of meeting before now.

Cole Caufield being one of them. 

He had arrived a couple of days after you and Ellie moved yourselves in, closer to Jack than the other two brothers, you had noticed, and was going to be staying longer than any of the other visitors - having his own designated room in the house, similar to you girls.

You like Cole - he’s good fun, can take a joke unlike his supposed best friend, and has the kind of smile that almost gives you a buzz whenever it’s flashed your way. Your first few interactions with him were seemingly pleasant, despite Jack constantly in his ear with a hardened glare pointed your way and no doubt unsavoury words uttered. Cole would just shrug him off, laugh, meet your eyes and drop a wink your way - a gesture you’d usually squirm and cringe at, but Cole kind of pulls it off. 

He joins in when you chirp Luke, too - which, if your honest, is your main source of entertainment since arriving, so your interactions with him grow day by day.

You haven’t really spent any one-on-one time with Cole yet, though. You were hoping to, before he left to visit home for the weekend - for no other reason than to get the scoop on something you’d happened upon at work last week - and had planned on asking him to hang out on your day off. But with Cole now gone for a few days, Jack and Ellie off doing god knows what, Quinn and Luke working out wherever, you have no choice but to spend your free Sunday lounging around the house, trying to find something to suppress your growing boredom.

You start with your nails, painting them a summery orangey-red and doing your toes to match, then do your laundry, abiding by house rules that you rotate the loads between the machines, and fold out whoever’s clothes were last in the dryer and place them in the hamper on the side. 

You’re hoping you haven’t had to fold Jack’s underwear but you decide to live in blissful ignorance - trying to identify the load based on the rest of the clothing in there is impossible when they all share, so it kind of works in your favour. 

You FaceTime your mom for almost an hour, getting an update on what she’s been up to with work, and giving her updates on how your summer is going, trying to focus on your time at the club and Ellie so she doesn’t worry too much again that you’re spending your summer in a house filled with boys. 

And by the time Luke and Quinn come back from their workout, you’re in the lounge, 50 pages deep into a book you really couldn’t care less about, but there’s something in you that refuses to beg one of them for company, so you suffer in silence.

Even when Luke does join you, throwing himself down onto the opposite side of the couch you’re occupying and pushing your feet off his side like it’s his sole purpose just to annoy you.

“I was comfortable there, asshat,” you frown, lifting your feet back into their previous position and using one to give him a light kick to his thigh.

“Yeah, well, I hardly want your feet all up in my business while I’m trying to relax,” he sighs, sinking into the cushions with hands clasped behind his head, biceps flexing and tightening the arms of his t-shirt in a way that momentarily catches your eye. You’re thankful for his closed eyes, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you divert your attention back to the mundane words on the pages in front of you.

“And yet here you are when there are 2 other couches.”

“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to be near me.”

You try to ignore him, pulling your feet a little closer to your body and focusing back on the book, but it’s hard when Luke has such a presence. You feel the little looks he keeps sending your way like a physical touch, and the couch shifts with every slight movement he makes, so when he constantly shuffles, you start to think he wants your attention.

Of course he wants your attention. This is Luke Hughes.

“Are you just sitting down here to annoy me?”

He lights up, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask, and shuffles in his seat to face you, fully, bouncing in place like a puppy being teased with a tennis ball. 

“I’m actually trying to distract you, if you must know.”

“Bold of you to assume you have enough of my attention to be distracting in the first place,” you scoff, trying not to react to the way he smirks in your peripheral, the words in front of you all blurring together. If you were actually focused on them, you’d have lost your place, already.

“I think you pay more attention to me than you’d like to admit.”

“That’s some ego you’ve got on you, Hughes,” you narrow your eyes as you look above the edge of your book, “Is that what you spend that big NHL paycheque on, charisma classes? How to flirt for dummies?”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Flirting?”

Damn. You walked yourself right into that one. 

Sometimes biting back at Luke comes like second nature, words first, thoughts after - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it that way. It’s easy, the back and forth, and you can’t really think of an instance with him where you’ve sat in a lingering, awkward silence. You’ve really grown to hate silence, lately.

“You wish.”

“You think I’m charismatic,” he teases in a sing-song voice, knocking at your knee and wiggling his eyebrows when you glare at him. 

“I think you’re an idiot.”

“You’re not gonna ask what I’m distracting you from?”

“I don’t really care,” you lie, eyes darting back down and diverting the attention he so desperately craves away from him.

“Jack wanted to take Ellie out on the boat.” He says, ignoring your attempts to ignore him - pushing your buttons like a full time job. Like an operator for your last nerve.

“Good for her.”

“Alone.”

“No shit.”

“To ask her out.”

“Whoop-de-doo.”

“Whoop-de-,” Luke straightens up, like a whack-a-mole with his head positioning itself over the top of your book, and you kind of wish you had one of those soft mallets right about now. It would be so satisfying to bonk at his head, you think. “What do you mean, whoop-de-doo, is this not what you agreed to be here for? To get them together?”

You scoff, flicking to the next page of the book in feigned disinterest. “He isn’t asking her out today.”

This is the exact something you had wanted to talk to Cole about - whispers in the staff lounge at work earlier in the week doing the rounds would imply otherwise, but your main source is kind of a gossip, and you’re not entirely sure of their reliability, despite the few degrees of separation to the subject at hand. 

Mutterings of Jack and Cole and their little country club connections. 

You can hardly ask Luke of all people if his brother is as much of a man-whore as everyone is making out. Cole was a safe bet - he’d probably just tell you straight up what they’re up to, wear his pride like a shining gold medal. He’s upfront about his promiscuity, at least. Luke is more protective. Of himself, of his family, you’re not entirely sure. There haven’t been as many whispers about him. 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because he’s a spineless idiot,” you retort, eyes flicking up momentarily to take in his furrowed brow. “No offence,” comes out of nowhere, and you surprise yourself with the instinct to lessen the blow of your words for the first time in forever.

“None taken, he’s only my flesh and blood,” Luke huffs, “You’re just jealous I’m winning our bet.”

“Sure,” you drawl, eyes widening to emphasise the sarcasm as you make a point of angling your head to the next page, like you’ve taken a single word in for the past five minutes. “He’s been talking to one of the girls from work. There’s no way he’s doing that and asking Ellie out, unless he’s completely brain dead.”

And when you look back at Luke, that furrowed brow has shifted into a full blown frown, pouted lips and eyes cast down as if he’s trying to figure everything out in his head. 

It’s probably the pout that has you cushioning your words, once more.

“Again, no offence, I doubt it’s in your DNA.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m no bio student but I don’t think there’s a genetic marker for being a fuckboy.”

“No, about him talking to one of the girls at the club. He didn’t tell me that.”

Why does he have to sound like that? Let down and unsure, quieter than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s like the tone he carries goes straight to your fingers, clasping the book closed without marking your page - because what business do you have carrying on that charade?

“Do you guys tell each other everything?” You ask as you throw the book until it lands on the coffee table with a gentle thud, shuffling until you’re sat against the arm of the couch with knees bent in front of you, giving him your undivided attention and feeling guilty that it might not be enough.

“I thought we did,” he scratches at the back of his head, nervously, “He literally told me yesterday he was taking her out to talk about stuff, why would he make a point of asking me to keep you busy if he’s not serious about asking her out?”

“You don’t want to hear my answer to a question about your brother not being serious.” 

“Who’s the girl?” He asks, ignoring your comment despite the slight ghost of a smile you see flash into the corner of his mouth. 

“Jessica, she works at the pro shop, apparently they’ve been texting all summer.”

You know for a fact that since you’ve started paying attention, you’ve seen Jack on his phone a lot for a guy who chirps you for your own screen-time, and who has enforced the house rule of no phones outside your room like a prison guard yells out no touching at visitation. So it sort of checks out. You’ve tried to sneak a peak, but he’s protective of his stuff like a yappy little dog with attachment issues at the best of times, so you haven’t really put too much effort into it.

“There were a few people talking about it in the lounge at work the other day,” you shrug, “One of the girls talking about it is Jess’ best friend, so not exactly from the horse’s mouth, but I don’t think she’d be spreading lies about her friend around like that.”

“Can you find out?”

“You ask that like I haven’t been trying.” That gets a full smile, a small chuckle that lifts his shoulder, even, “I was gonna grill Caufield about it but he’s gone. But I know you guys have plans when he gets back tomorrow, so if you want to take Cole I’ll hack away at the grape vine at the club?”

“Does this mean we’re teammates?” 

“No. It absolutely does not.”

Hacking away at the grapevine is really a lot more like plucking absentmindedly at an overgrown patch of grass when it comes to workplace gossip. 

By the end of your shift, you’re leaving the club with a fist clutched full of loose blades, fingers stained green from the amount of information people were willing to ‘fess up.

Liam who works behind the bar had overheard a conversation where Jack had mentioned Jessica, but could only give you useless tidbits, like how he had to stop by the shop for a new putter, and Jess had been the one to ring him up.

Hardly incriminating, but you had a feeling it would be a small piece of a way larger puzzle. That, and guys are notoriously useless at gossiping, there’s definitely more to that story than Liam could even comprehend in his tiny man brain.

Cassidy who works at the front desk had seen Jack and Jess talking in the main lobby last week, definitely flirting, she had said - with hair flips and giggles galore - and way too familiar to be new. 

Much better.

Paola who has the alternative shifts in the pro shop was more than willing to take up ten minutes of your time ranting how Jess’ work is never fully done when it comes to a handover, and she spends half her time on her phone. Kiran, who works the bev cart every Monday, said Jack is always one of the most charming in their golfing group, so it’s no surprise if he is exchanging texts with girls from the club. 

You get dirt from most corners of the place, and it leads you all the way back to your station, to reservations set for the restaurant, where tonight’s list - unfortunately a shift you’re not set to work, although you very much question the serendipity of that - has Jack’s name down at 7pm. A table for 2 in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes and intimate.

And if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already worked a full shift, you would consider staying just to get the full scoop. 

You know Ellie isn’t going to be the one sat across from him, she’s been sending you pictures all day of her various hauls for her quiet night in. New paints and pencils, a sketchpad, some candles - she has all intentions of working on her watercolour technique.

So it has to be for him and Jessica.

Imagine his face, you think, picturing wide, panicked eyes as you roam up to his table to take his order. He’d actually crap his pants. 

But, it’s another set of eyes that you picture when you start to enjoy the scheming a little too much. The sad, teary eyes of your best friend, when she finds out the guy she’s been hung up on for half her life, who she has all but convinced herself isn’t interested, and is - absurdly - ‘far too good’ for her - yeah, right - is dating other girls while taking her out on not-so-platonic boat dates only the day before. A boat date that she had come back to your room, flung herself onto her belly on the bed, and kicked her feet as she gushed all about it. 

So you make your way back to the house after a long day, and resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to, yet again, get all your information on Jack’s date second hand.

You primed Cara, your colleague in the restaurant, to keep an eye out, and she promised to send updates on her breaks, and you have been holed up in yours and Ellie’s shared bedroom trying to keep her busy when there is a persistent knock at the door, and a mop of soft, curly brown hair pokes in before his eyes meet yours.

“Hey, Luke!” Ellie chimes, cheery and all too blissfully unaware of the potentially horrific circumstances you’ve stumbled upon. “You need to borrow my conditioner again?”

You scoff from your position on the bed, watching a slight pink hue flush up Luke’s neck.

“What? No,” he denies, running a hand through his hair and seemingly frowning a little at the way it feels. “I’m going to the store, wondered if either of you needed anything?”

“Nah, thanks, we’re good,” Ellie smiles, attention diverting straight back to where she’s drawing in her sketchbook, missing the way Luke widens his eyes and tilts his head as if to encourage you to take him up on his offer.

“Can I come with?” You shuffle from your position on the bed, swinging your legs out from beneath you and over the side as Ellie looks back at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted something.”

“Someone’s got to show the poor guy what’s what on the haircare aisle, El.”

And you’re thankful that Ellie has settled herself in for the evening already by 6:45, showered, pyjamas on, otherwise she might have tried to tag along, too, just for something to do.

You swipe her phone before she can notice and hide it under your pillow before you leave, thinking it might reduce the risk of her getting bored and texting Jack, or, worse, checking his location.

A trip out gives you the chance for you and Luke to debrief each other on your findings of the day - or, as it turns out, just you, because Luke Hughes might be the worst information-gatherer on planet Earth.

Finding his life’s niche in hockey is fortunate, because he definitely wouldn’t cut it as an investigator.

“He just said he didn’t know anything,” Luke shrugs of his earlier encounter with Cole, and you try not to gape at him in disbelief as he fiddles with the screen in his BMW, scrolling through the interface in search of the nearest store. 

You swat his hand away with a scoff, typing in a destination, “And you believed him?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“You’re about as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hughes. What is it with guys and gossip, are you all really that dumb?”

“That’s the address for the club,” he points out, ignoring your jibe as he starts driving.

“Well done, you can read.”

“Why?”

“Because, thankfully, one of us is a good detective.” You snark, “Jack’s there.”

“So?”

“He’s on a date.”

“No he isn’t,” Luke frowns, attention momentarily taken from the road as he looks over at you. “I’ve been with him all afternoon, he would have told me if he had a date, tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d he say he was going when he left, earlier?”

He hadn’t been home when you got back from work, but that had been around an hour ago. You figured if he was sneaky enough to book into the restaurant when you’re not working, he’d have his wits about him to avoid you, entirely. Whenever the two of you cross paths, you can’t help but try get on his last nerve, and he’s hardly going to want to start his evening in a foul mood.

“To get his hair cut.”

Jesus Christ, you think, he’s so lucky he’s cute.

“You’re so clueless. He’s at the lounge with Jessica, the girl I told you about yesterday.”

“And what are we supposed to do about that?”

“We’re gonna supervise. And maybe interfere, if necessary.” 

You don’t really have a plan, but it seems like the right thing to at least get a look in as to what the hell Jack thinks he’s doing, especially if you’re going to carry on with this whole plan of getting him and Ellie together. If he’s seriously entertaining other girls while making out to Luke that he only has eyes for Ellie, your plans might have to change. You’re not sure if Luke will be on board with the new path you’re willing to take, but you’ll be happy to kill his brother on your own.

“Interfere?” Luke’s eyes are wide, but he keeps them on the road, fingers flexing against the wheel. “I just came out for chips to make nachos, not play spies!”

“Cara’s working tonight, she said she’d keep an eye on them for me. I bet if I cover her hosting shift on Friday she’d sabotage their date. We’d just have to sit back and watch.”

“Oh,” Luke’s brows furrow, as if it’s taking any consideration at all to mess with his brother. “You really are an evil genius.”

You try not to think too hard about who’s been spewing that rhetoric already in his ear, and instead you smile when he casts his eyes your way, proud and pleased. 

“Thank you.”

It takes another 15 minutes to get to the club, considering Luke’s best Driving Miss Daisy impression, so their date is already underway by the time Cara is ushering you to a booth in the far corner, where you can see Jack’s table, but he shouldn’t be able to see yours, and agreeing to play along.

“Can I get you guys any drinks?” She asks as she hands over two menus, and you’re too interested in trying to gauge the vibe at the other table while Luke looks over his.

“Two diet cokes, shaved ice, no lemon,” he says, and you can’t help but frown at the way the specificity of that order rolls so easily off his tongue. That’s your order.

“Any food?”

“Could we just get some nachos, please?” You ask, sliding your menu across the table without even looking, not wanting to give Luke too much of a chance to peruse his own out of fear you’ll be here all night. “And extra picante on the side.”

“Extra guac, too,” Luke adds as Cara scribbles the instructions on her notepad, “And some of those chicken tenders, and extra ranch. And maybe some fries. Yeah, chilli fries. And breadsticks.”

You level him with a glare, already proven right in your decision not to give him too much time to think about what he wanted. He’ll order every appetiser on the menu, if given half the chance. 

“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”

“Sure thing, should be around fifteen minutes. They only just ordered,” she points her pen back to Jack’s table, where Jess is leaning onto the table and Jack is leaning back in his seat - heavy on the distance but even heavier on the eye contact. That little shit.

“Does he have any allergies?” You lean onto your own table to ask Luke, quirking a brow up when his eyes darken in response, mischief swirling in his emerald irises.

“Absolutely not,” Cara interjects, “I’m doing this so you cover my job, not make me lose it.”

“Let me guess, he ordered the steak, medium-rare?” Luke asks, and she nods, hesitantly. “Char it.”

“Won’t he complain?”

“He’ll just grumble to himself about how tough it is. It’ll put him in a bad mood. That’s what we want, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding your head to ease Cara’s worries despite what you really want is for Chef Michael to poison the cut, entirely. If Jack Hughes wants to play with your best friend’s heart, you’ll play with his gut. But you can settle for burnt meat. Luke can work some sort of magic with that, you think, convincing Jack of all people that any first date that resulted in him coming home all sour-puss and sulky should never result in a second. “Bad mood. Bingo.”

“Fine,” Cara grumbles, “But if he even thinks about asking for a manager, you’re covering my next 3 Fridays.”

She storms off to the kitchen, and you and Luke simultaneously sink into your seats, attention immediately diverted back to the table in the opposite corner of the room.

“We should have kept the menus,” Luke mutters from across the booth, “Could have hidden behind them.”

“What are we, children?” You snark, “You can’t think of any more creative ways to stay hidden?”

“I heard PDA makes people pretty uncomfortable,” he leans onto the table, dropping you a wink when you glance over out of the side of your eye, “We should make out to throw everyone off the scent.”

“In your dreams, Hughes.”

Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.

The way you can convince people to do your bidding with a mere flutter of your eyelashes or a flash of pearly teeth and a glimmer in your irises.

He has trouble, sometimes, skirting around his honesty or hiding his intentions - and he knows that’s not a bad thing, knows that being clear and truthful is an admirable trait, if anything - but the way you persuade others to bend to your whim with intricate white lies based on observations you’ve made or intel you’ve gathered is a praiseworthy level of genius. 

It had taken such minimal effort for you to get Cara on side, to convince her that being a little clumsy is hardly grounds for her termination, and spilling a little of Jack’s drink close to the edge of the table - close enough that it drips onto his pants and Luke can see the steams of frustration exuding from his brother’s skin from all the way on the other side of the restaurant - or bumping her hip on the edge of their table every time she passes are really just harmless irritations, not likely to cause actual complaint. 

You had used the mere tone of your voice to convince Liam from behind the bar to squeeze a little lime in Jack’s water, knowing just from observing him back at the house that he hates the taste, face curling in disgust at even the slightest hint of it, and Luke had watched your eyes gleam in delight every time Jack took a sip of his drink and tried not to spit it back out, seeking much needed reprieve to swallow down the world’s toughest steak cut. 

You’d even worked your magic on him, pouting your lips when the food had arrived at the table, and he had initially declined to share his chicken tenders with you - your grumblings at him ordering enough to feed the five thousand fresh in his memory, but so easily wiped away by the soft, sad look in your eyes, and your whining of, “But I didn’t realise how hungry I’d get. Plotting and scheming is hard work, Luke.”

You ended up eating half, but he could hardly complain - you were doing the heavy lifting out of the two of you.

He was sitting back and enjoying the show - enjoying your company, if he’s honest. Enjoying the way his gangly limbs would sometimes knock into yours under the table, enjoying the way he kept getting little nuggets of information out of you while you were distracted, sipping at your coke and making little comments about yourself, about your life, without even realising you’re doing it. 

And an unplanned, pseudo date ends up being the first time he thinks he’s had a glimpse at the real you.

The you who knows more about hockey than you’ve ever let on before, who comes back to his stories with contextual questions about the game, even has references to a few games of his back at Michigan, and keeps the conversation flowing despite your feigned disinterest, and a constant gaze cast his brother’s way.

That would usually drive him crazy.

He’s experienced it so often that he has come to expect it, people only entertaining his company to acquire the attention of his brothers, but that’s not what you’re doing. Not really.

You pay more attention to Luke than you’d ever let on.

You ask him about his time in Ostrava at the beginning of summer, even though he’s only mentioned being overseas once while you’ve been staying with him - an offhanded comment from Quinn at breakfast that you must have taken on. Ask him about all the food he tried while out there, when he mentions he doesn’t like picante, and you use it as a springboard to talk about what sort of spices he does like, or if he’s the type to try things or stick to what he knows. 

You ask him about being the youngest sibling, and it stems from an offhanded comment Luke had grumbled about always being the last to be clued in on stuff, about how Jack had probably confided in Quinn about his extracurricular activities at the club, and didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the fact he’s going out on dates. You ask if he usually figures things out himself before he’s told them, if that’s what makes him so good at observing and analysing stuff, and he hadn’t ever realised he was particularly good at those things before you brought it up. But then you reference a day in class one time, where he had picked up on something in a textbook that you never would have figured out in a million years, and his heart leaps at the praise you don’t even realise you’re giving him.

You sandwich your perceptions in your usual snark, but he doesn’t miss the slight curve of your lips anymore when he bites straight back, knowing now that there is some part of you that feels the nip of his teeth, that acknowledges his existence beyond him being a speck of inconvenience in your peripheral.

And he gets a little carried away in that acknowledgement - stops paying attention himself to what is happening on the other side of the room and tries to focus on what’s in front of him; the girl he pined after his entire college career, sat sharing nachos and pretending not to know him at a level you so clearly do.

You must get carried away, too, because neither of you notice Jack’s date wrapping up until Luke catches him hand his card over to Cara.

He’s lost count of how long the two of you have been at the club, now - way longer than it takes to get chips from the store, that’s for sure - and all he does know is that if Jack catches either of you two here, after a night of mishaps, bad food, spilled drinks and Cara’s incessant clumsiness, he’ll know who’s to blame. 

“We better get out of here before he sees us,” Luke sighs, not entirely wanting to wrap up his time with you but knowing he doesn’t really have a choice.

“I’ve just got to pick something up before we head back,” you reply, edging out of the booth at the same time Luke does, “I’ll meet you out front just give me two minutes?”

“Be quick,” he tells you before you scurry off, and he flags down Cara, who tells him you already put your bill on your worker tab. He tells her to switch it to his, and that he’ll drop by tomorrow to pay it off, promising to leave her a good tip for her stellar services for the evening. 

He waits where you asked him to, making sure to stick to the side of the entryway where he can duck for cover if his brother makes an appearance - but you show up first, skipping out from the staff lounge with a bag of tortilla chips in hand.

“Let’s go, Lukey boy!” He follows you out like a puppy on a leash, all the way to where his car is parked, almost bumping into you when you stop and turn without warning, stretching your hand out to him. “Give me your keys.”

“Are you crazy?” He snorts, “You’re not driving my car!”

“I know a shortcut!” You reason, stepping forward and making a grabby motion with your fingers, “We gotta beat Jack home, I just paid another server $20 to spill a whole drink on him before he leaves and he’s gonna be pissed. I want to see the meltdown back at the house and you drive like a nun!”

Luke doesn’t know why he gives in so easy - it could be the proximity, the way you’re so close you have to look up at him, eyes twinkling softly under the moonlight, voice carrying over to him like a siren song, or it could just be because he’s weak - but he hands his keys over with a roll of his eyes and climbs into the passenger side, sliding the seat back with a huff to accommodate his long legs and watching as you adjust the driver’s side, cringing at the way he’s gonna have to figure out exactly how he had it before.

You drive like a maniac, to the point where Luke has to screw his eyes shut as you use some back road, can hear the squelch of mud beneath his tires and squirms at the thought of having to take it to the car wash, tomorrow. 

But you make it back to the lake house much quicker than if he were driving, he’ll give you that. So quick that you feel comfortable enough to turn to him once you’ve pulled up, in no rush to unbuckle and get out to get inside before Jack gets home.

“Just so we’re clear, this is a point under my name. You’re not claiming tonight as a win.”

Luke chuckles, turning in his seat to face you, features illuminated by the dim overhead light that turns on when the engine switches off and a slight flush of exhilaration to your cheeks. There’s no pretending you haven’t enjoyed yourself, not tonight. “But the steak thing was my idea?”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be sat watching baseball and thinking he was getting a 3 hour haircut, you can’t seriously be trying to steal this from me, I thought you athletes had integrity!”

“You’re really keeping score?”

“You’re not?”

If Luke’s honest, he hasn’t really thought about your whole wager all night. He’s been too wrapped up in the idea that his brother had lied to him. Twice. And now his whole plan for the two of you all summer has potentially been messed up. But hearing you mention it, hearing you talk about it like it hasn’t been flushed down the toilet by his brother’s idiocy sparks something in him - excitement, anticipation. He doesn’t want to let this go.

“I actually think we made a good team back there,” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours to gauge your reaction to the thought of doing this together.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re gonna lose,” you retort, eyes sparkling with those same sentiments he had just felt. 

“Probably,” he acquiesces, “Also ‘cause you kind of scare me a little after tonight, last thing I wanna do is go up against you when you have the power to turn half the country club against me.”

You smirk, and his eyes are drawn to the plush curve of your lips, watching them as they form around the softly spoken words, “God forbid you can’t go a round of golf without your caddy breaking down.”

“Exactly.” He mutters back, glad to see your gaze is still zeroed in on him when he meets it again. He can feel the thump thump thump of his pulse in his ears, and takes a deep breath before proposing, “Partners?”

He cocks a brow and holds his pinky out over the centre console, and you eye the digit, sceptically, narrowing your eyes into a glare before raising them to meet his. “Fine,” you grumble, then hook your little finger through his and tighten it to shake, a slight yelp of surprise filling the car when he tugs, your lax arm giving way until your knuckle touches his lips and he kisses it.

“Ew,” you whine, snatching your finger back as he fills the space himself with a hearty chuckle, wiping it on his hoody in disgust. “That’s gross!”

“No take backs,” he smiles, victorious, with his chest puffed out, primed for you to swat at with the flex of your hand, and the two of you are only pulled out of the moment by the sound of tyres pulling up on the gravel behind you, both of you stumbling to unbuckle yourselves and climb out of the car. 

Jack is exiting his own vehicle behind, and stomps down the driveway, shouldering past you until he realises who he has passed, turning back and looking at you with suspicion cast across his features. 

“Where have you twobeen?” Jack asks, glancing a curious eye between the two of you before meeting Luke’s gaze, levelling him with an inquisitive glare.

“We went to the store for chips,” Luke holds the bag up, the crinkle loud enough for Jack to hear, and he feels an insurgence rising within him, spurred on by the way his brother is looking at him like he’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions. “Nice haircut.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair, surprise crossing his features in a brief flash at the call out, like he had never even expected Luke to notice his hair looks no different to the last time he saw him mere hours ago, like he would never even need to question his alibi.

“Oh, yeah, I got the day wrong. Went out for dinner instead.”

“On your own?” You ask from beside him, your presence giving Luke the kind of back up he very much needs right now, a new target for Jack’s narrowed eyes that takes the heat off of him a little, lessens the burden of lying to his brother - despite Jack being the one who started it, it doesn’t make Luke feel any less bad, doesn’t quell the need to word vomit and admit to all the ludicrous things he had done to ruin Jack’s night. “You end up having a little accident there, bud?”

Luke tries not to outwardly laugh as his attention is diverted to the wet patch that still soaks up the front of Jack’s pants, lips quivering as he presses them together, oblivious to the steam pouring out of his brother’s ears as he immediately gets riled up. 

“One of your esteemed colleagues at the club apparently lacks hand eye co-ordination. Plus, some of us like our own company,” Jack scoffs, “Some of us can go an evening without the need to annoy anybody else.”

“It’s not news to me that you’re in love with yourself, dude,” you retort back, entirely unbothered by his jibes. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of riveting thoughts swirling around that ginormous head of yours, must keep you busy for hours on end.”

“At least I have thoughts, at least I’m not some airheaded-,”

“Hey,” Luke’s tone is authoritative when he calls out, stern and demanding, “Cut it out, Jack.”

“She started it!”

“She asked you a question,” Luke frowns, disappointed with how quick his brother had taken to escalating the situation, all in an attempt to deflect the attention from his own deception. He knows you don’t need him to protect you from Jack’s sharp tongue, knows you can very much defend yourself, but he needs to vent his frustrations, somehow, without causing a bust up on the driveway. “You could have just give her a straight answer without biting her head off.”

He feels like you’re a little closer, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know it’s the slight brush of your arm against his or if it’s something else, something less tangible - but it warms him, all the same. Steadies the static thump of his heart in his chest at the thought of starting an argument with his brother out of nowhere. 

“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, “I’m going to bed.”

And as Jack turns, Luke sees your lips part, ready to send him off with the last word until a large hand clamps itself over your mouth, and your wide eyes meet his over the sides of his fingers.

He’s not sure why he did it, why he all of a sudden feels comfortable enough to cross the boundaries of purposeful touch, but he doesn’t entirely regret it.

Plush lips press mid-word against his palm, and your skin is soft, cheeks warming ever so slightly beneath his hand.

“You gotta let him go, there’s no use fighting with him tonight, it’s better to drag it out. Didn’t think I’d have to teach you about the beauty of the long game,” he says, voice low as he watches his brother retreat to the house, waiting until he’s safe inside to retract his hand. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Your brother’s an asshole,” you grumble, “Full offence.”

“No arguments from me,” Luke concedes, holding his hands as if surrendering to the fact, himself. “What are you gonna tell Ellie?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, stepping a little down the drive and toward the house before turning back to him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, partner.”

There have only been a handful of times in your life you’ve ever been thankful for work coinciding with huge plans, but when the group had decided that they wanted to go see Zach Bryan play Ford Field, you had thanked your lucky stars you had been put down to work a full shift at the restaurant and wouldn’t be able to go.

Not only for the fact that he isn’t really your thing, but for the fact that you’re finally getting a full evening to yourself.

So far, in your time at the house, most evenings have been spent with everyone else - group dinners, game nights, movie nights, even a couple of girls nights with just you and Ellie scattered in there, but nothing on your own, yet. 

You can’t wait. And with an empty house, you have a full pamper night planned. You’ve been stocking up odd bits on your trips to the store over the past couple of weeks - sheet masks, aromatherapy candles, you’ve even picked up some flower petals from the spa at the club, in the hopes that you might even treat yourself to a relaxing soak in the bathtub. You can play whatever music you want, make whatever food you want, sit wherever you want in the house, out on the deck, overlooking the lake with a book in hand and no chirpy voices in your ear all night.

You can’t wait.

The only downside is not having a ride home, but you haven’t finished too late. The sun will still be up for a couple of hours, and a walk in the simmering heat back to the house doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Your feet carry you with ease down the back roads, and you even make the journey without your headphones on, taking in the scenery, the blissful peace of your surroundings, so lost in the tranquility of it all that the sight of Luke washing his car on the drive when you get home dampens your mood as quick as a torrential downpour of rain, flash floods coursing through your evening and wrecking your plans entirely. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You can’t help the bite in your tone as you approach, sneakers crunching against the gravel as Luke pauses the hose, looks over at you with the sun in his eyes, and you have to remind yourself he’s just ruined the one night you have for yourself before you get distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless.

“Washing my car?” he calls back, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit right now?”

Luke shrugs, and you have to will your eyeballs not to move any lower than his neck to watch his shoulders lift and drop, lest you get too caught up in the broad expanse of his chest and do something ridiculous like drool.

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

“You weren’t feeling a concert you guys haven’t shut up about for weeks, but you were feeling washing your car?”

He’s dead. When he’s finished with his car and he retreats to his room, you’re gonna smother him with a pillow and discard of his body in the lake. You’re not even gonna let him shower, first. That’s what the lake’s for.

He’s crapping all over your plans because he wasn’t feeling it?

“It needs cleaning,” he shrugs again, and you swear you’re gonna jump in and run him over with the damn thing, “In fact, you really should be helping me.”

There’s a small part of you that feels like the thoughts of violence are worryingly aggressive, but then a larger part of you realises he must have a death wish.

“How’d you get to that conclusion?”

“You’re the one who drove us through a swamp,” he scoffs, a pointed hand flung toward the body of his car, where the sides are lined with a thick layer of dried dirt from the other night, “You get it dirty, you clean it up.”

“As much as I would absolutely love to fulfil your pervy car wash fantasy, I have much better things I could be doing with my time.”

Or you did, until Luke rained all over your parade of solitude.

“Like what?”

“Literally anything but this.” You gesture at the show he’s putting on. The suds dripping from the roof of the car, the hose in his hand, the buckets scattered around the perimeter. “I need to shower, I just walked from the club and I-,”

A death wish might actually be an understatement.

Luke wants you to murder him in the most gruesome, horrific way you could possibly muster - he has to, because there’s no other explanation for why he’d turn the hose on, point it straight at you, and drench the front of you, entirely. 

You can feel the fabric of your t-shirt dampening and sticking to your chest, and you scrunch your eyes shut to stop droplets of water slipping into them, thankful that when they open again, his own are looking back at you, and not any lower.

You’d really have a reason to kill him, then. 

“You did not just do that.” You growl, glaring back at him with a clenched jaw as the fucker beams back at you, pressing the trigger once more in a short burst that fires straight at your chest, again.

“What, that?”

“You’re so dead.”

You drop your bag and launch for him, aiming to take the hose from his grip, but he fires it again out of sheer panic, the water spouting out from between your splayed fingers, cold and pressured, and it soaks the both of you, raining down as you grapple for the head and Luke remains unrelenting.

There are squeals and yelps called out into the misty air between the two of you, and you get to a point you can’t tell what sounds are coming from who, but you manage to wrestle the hose from his grip and point it straight at him as he jets away with a laugh that rumbles straight from his belly.

It’s the kind of laugh that elicits another, and you don’t realise until he’s circling back to you that the laughter is coming from you - giggling, even, as the two of you engage in a water fight like misbehaving children - and it isn’t long until all aggressive thoughts wash away with the suds that slip to the gravel, forgetting why you were even annoyed in the first place.

It shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but after the long day at work, and the tiring walk back, letting your guard down and engaging it a little mindless chaos seems to wake you up a little.

Your childish game gets Luke what he wanted, anyway, the two of you working together to clean his car when you realise he’s only running in front of all the parts that actually need hosing off and relying on you having bad aim to get the job done, and you figure getting your hands a little dirty is harmless when you’re already soaked through and in dire need of a shower.

And your pamper-plans of a bubble bath and self-care don’t entirely come to fruition, but Luke promises to make up for his petulance by ordering pizza and sticking a movie on, so you bite your tongue to refrain from voicing your initial complaints, and decide to just go with the flow, for once - he hasn’t exactly led you astray, yet.  

You take a little longer in the shower than normal, with no one around to complain about hogging the bathroom or worry about them barging in unannounced, and you suppose that’s a small victory - one little luxury you get to cling to as you bask in the steam, letting all the tension slip from your aching muscles after being on your feet all day.

And once you’re out, hair dried just enough with a towel that it isn’t going to drip or soak your t-shirt, and you’re dressed in your pyjamas, you make your way downstairs, where Luke has already set up a plethora of snacks in the living room.

Nachos, popcorn, candy and drinks scattered across the coffee table as he relaxes on the couch, hair extra curly after his shower and an old Michigan t-shirt stretched tight across his now much-broader chest. 

“Thought I’d wait for you to pick a movie,” he chimes up from where he’s sat, gesturing with a lazy point to the wall of blu-rays beside the TV. 

“Did Netflix never make it to the Hughes household?” You scoff in disbelief as you take them all in properly for the first time. You’d seen them in your peripheral when you’d been hanging out down here, before, but actually looking at them up close, reading all the titles, seeing the sheer volume of how many there are, it kind of surprises you.

“We can look on Netflix if you want. They always take stuff off, though.”

You know. All your favourite movies get taken off of streaming, and you only ever find out about it when you’re really in the mood to watch them. As soon as you realise the wall is alphabetised, you know exactly where to look.

“That’s alright,” you shrug, stepping to the side as you track backwards, through M, L, K and J. “You guys are pretty analogue, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“The board games, the DVDs, the whole no phones around the house thing.”

“No phones around the house is common courtesy,” he chuckles, “But I guess we’re a little weird about the other stuff.”

“It’s pretty cool,” you shrug, spotting the DVD you want and sliding it out to assess the case. “It’s old school. Probably better for the brain. My little brothers can’t really function without an iPad and they’re 5, it’s freaky, like they’re haunted by the capitalist ghost of Steve Jobs or something.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Luke frowns where you almost expect him to laugh, and you spin on your heel to face him. He has this look about him like he should have known that - like the two of you have ever conversed in anything other than sarcastic quips and scrunched up faces, or whatever attempts at flirting have been on his part. 

“Technically they’re half brothers,” you shrug, “They live out in Philly with my dad and step mom, I don’t really get to see them much.”

“Didn’t know you were from Philly, either.”

“I’m not, my dad moved out there when him and my mom got divorced.”

It’s not something you really love talking about. 

The few times you’ve tried, you’ve been shot down, patronising tones scoffing at how your biggest trauma is the separation of your parents, as if your whole world didn’t crumble down with the demise of their relationship, the demise of life as you knew and very dearly loved it.

“You don’t see him even in the summer?”

“Him and his family are on vacation in Europe for 6 weeks. England, France, Spain, Germany, the boys are into soccer so they’ll be out there until the Euros.”

You don’t miss the way Luke’s face scrunches at how you call them his family, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him to start pitying you, so you throw the DVD case toward him before you can second guess your choice.

Interstellar. 

You hope he doesn’t pick up on why it might be one of your favourites. Especially not considering the topic of the conversation at hand. Something about the crippling regret Cooper has for leaving Murph behind plucks harmoniously at some unidentifiable strings deep within you, but you’re hardly about to admit that to Luke, of all people.

“I love this movie,” he smiles, almost surprised, as if he expected you to throw The Notebook his way. Maybe next time - he’d probably love that movie, too, if he gave it a chance. 

“Me too. I love space movies.”

“Like Space Jam?” He asks as he pushes himself up, going toward the TV to set up the movie with the DVD in one hand and the remote control in the other. 

“No, like movies about Space,” you say, throwing yourself down onto the same couch he just vacated and tucking your feet beneath you to get comfortable. “Although I guess Space Jam would technically fit into that bracket.”

“I didn’t realise that was a genre,” he chuckles.

“Not the scary ones, though, I don’t wanna be freaked out by space.”

“Is that like a thing? You just like any movie set in space?”

“I like anything about space, period. Movies, documentaries, books. Thinking about it makes me feel really insignificant.”

“Insignificant? Is that not a bad thing?” He asks as he makes his way back, settling into his side and angling his body toward yours.

“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”

“I guess that makes sense,” he seems to mull it over in his head, the thought of him even considering it and not making you feel stupid warms your chest - makes you forget just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him in the last couple of minutes alone, makes you worry less that you’re sharing too much. “I think I might be the opposite, though. Probably the youngest brother in me, I only feel better if I feel bigger.”

You think that might be why he’s always trying to one up you - sassy comments and inappropriate jokes galore. Not that you mind any of it, not really.

“What about you? What movies do you like?”

“You’re gonna be so shocked.”

“Sports movies?”

“Look at you, knowing me like the back of your hand.” He coos, nudging at your knee with his hand. “I’ll watch anything, though. We should take it in turns, whenever it’s just us,” he says like the thought of spending time alone with you has only just crossed his mind. “Picking a movie to show each other.”

You think there’s a lot of yourself in the media you consume. The movies you watch, the music you listen to, and sharing those things with Luke feels like giving him the only other key to a high security vault. It’s something you’ve avoided so far - letting him play his songs in the car, avoiding making any sort of pick in the group movie nights. It’s daunting, and it’s a lot of pressure, and so you don’t know why you agree with so much ease - a shrug, and a casual muttering of, “Sure, why not?”

The pieces of your dynamic slowly start to slot together, and you start to realise why you’ve been entertaining his company so often, lately. Why your mood so quickly de-escalated itself, earlier. Why you’ve found yourself curled up on the same couch as him, instead of literally anywhere else in the house, doing anything other than this. Why you’re so quick to agree to letting him access all these unseen parts of you.

And why you think he might be able to read your mind, after he asks, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if I get to ask one back.”

“What were you gonna do tonight, if you were on your own?”

Thank God, you think, your heart jumping at the thought of anything else he could have asked.

“I was gonna do a sheet mask and steal the bottle of wine Quinn stashed behind the laundry detergent.” You admit with a nonchalant shrug, the plans you had been looking forward to all day seeming mundane in comparison to this. “Why’d you stay behind? You love Zach Bryan.”

“I love sheet masks and stolen wine, too.”

Your lips curve up before you get the chance to huff at his non-answer, and you feel your throat go a little dry at the way his curve, too - the way his green eyes darken when they meet yours, and you feel like he’s looking straight through you.

It’s around half way through the movie that you realise how much you’re enjoying yourself - when you look over at Luke, and the light from the screen is still bouncing off the sticky white sheet plastered to his face, only just able to make out his round eyes through the little slit in the fabric. 

You sip at your wine to hide your smile, and turn your attention back to the TV until Luke nudges at your feet with his, and your eyes meet over the tops of your bent knees. 

“You tell anyone I did this, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Your laugh ripples through every inch of your upper body, rumbling up from your belly and manifesting itself in shaking shoulders, your smile wide and your sheet mask slipping out of place. “You can’t threaten me with a good time, Hughes.”

You spend the rest of the night trying not to think about how there might just be a tiny door in your heart, eking it’s way open for him to squeeze his gangly limbs into.

>PART TWO<

another a/n: I don't want to put a timeframe on when the next part will be posted bc as soon as I do that, my brain will revolt and it won't happen, but I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!!! I have a lot of the rest actually written, and what I don't have written, I have drafted, so it shouldn't be too long but!!! like I said no timeframe!! I've had a lot of fun with this dynamic, and hearing any opinions would mean a lot to me!!

this was my first time writing reader insert if you saw any instances of she/her where they shouldn't be, no you didn’t. I tried as best as I could to avoid using Y/N because it takes me out of it I don’t even remember if I put it anywhere but sometimes it's hard to get around I did my best ok!!!

[weird-is-life]

pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭

Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)

Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.

But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.

When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.

"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.

"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."

Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."

Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.

He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.

"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.

You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.

When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.

"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."

A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.

"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.

"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."

"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.

He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.

You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.

"Spencer...?"

"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.

"Spence?"

"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).

"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."

"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.

"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.

You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.

[vanesycho]

f!reader x bf!vernon | m.list | wc:0,8k

request:hii can i please request a vernon imagine where svt doesnt believe theyre dating reader because hes so nonchalant but svt finds them either in a sweet or sexual position or something? its up to you! thank you <3

a/n: I apologize to the person who wrote the request. your request was deleted because the tags did not work in a way that I did not understand and I have to repost it...I hope it works this time.

I added a little texting at the end to make it a little more fun, enjoy reading!

"From the world to Vernon." Vernon looked up at Seungkwan's call "Oh sorry, were you saying something?" Kwan rolled his eyes, turned to the front and started muttering to himself "Oh really...What's wrong with this kid, his mind has been elsewhere lately." Jeonghan who entered the room answered him "Don't mess with him, he's probably texting with his girlfriend." It was obvious that the sentence he said was in a mocking tone and a few members laughed at this but Vernon didn't care and continued texting you. He didn't feel the need to prove to anyone that he was dating you because he didn't want to deal with it, and deep down he knew that they were all wrong and he was going to continue this as long as he could.

The rest of the day was spent both texting you and chatting with the others. When it was evening the next day, you were going to his house to surprise him because you missed him. In the meantime, a few members were gathered at his house watching a movie, unaware of everything. Dino, who was bothered by the notifications on Vernon's phone, whined "Yah! Either turn that sound down or answer." Vernon picked up his phone and smiled when he saw that the message was from you.

'I'm outside the door.'

'I missed you...can I see you for a few seconds?'

He cleared his throat and stood up, drawing attention to himself for a moment. "Go on without me, I have something to do, I'll be back." When he realized that they were continuing with the movie without questioning it, he went to the door. You ran to him as soon as you saw him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His arms that had been waiting for you found your waist and pulled you closer, burying his head in your neck and breathing in your scent. "I missed you." He mumbled, you chuckled and when you pulled away, he kissed you on the lips. "Did I come at the wrong time?" You knew the others were home so you didn't want to disturb them, but your longing for him got the better of you.

Vernon shook his head, one hand moving to your cheek, feeling him stroke it with his thumb. “It’s okay, after all, they wouldn’t believe me even if I said my girlfriend was here.” You laughed at that, he would send you a few voice recordings when they talked about Vernon lying, and it was definitely worth listening to. “So..When are we going to prove this to them?” you asked, although you didn’t mind it, you were curious about how far he would go. Vernon closed the gap between you again, his hand on your cheek moving to your neck, slowly pulling you closer to him as he murmured “I don’t really care if they believe me or not. All I care about is you right here with me, so just let me take care of you.”

His lips brushed gently against yours, and you couldn’t wait any longer because of your longing for him, and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, kissing his lips more passionately. He laughed at how hungry you were in between the kisses, and didn’t hesitate to respond. He sucked your lower lip gently and his hand started to roam your body to feel every part of you that he missed. You opened your mouth and brushed your tongue against his-

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??" Hoshi's shout echoed in the dark street, you backed away in fear and turned to the owner of the voice. His shout must have caught the attention of the other members because some of them opened the door and moved towards you while others settled at the window. "I think it's time they believe us now." You looked at the eyes looking at you as Vernon spoke as if nothing had happened. Dino was the last one to leave the door and complained "The movie is half-finished, can't you be surprised by this later?" When the others ignored him, he muttered a curse and went back to watch it alone. Kwan pursed his lips and folded his arms "So you weren't lying the whole time?" Vernon frowned in disbelief "Why would I lie about this?" And you guys tried to understand what he was saying by stealing glances at each other as Kwan continued to rant.

Once the strange event was over, you were invited to watch the rest of the movie. You were curled up on the couch with Vernon, your head on his chest. His hand was on your shoulder, he kissed your head, and still unused to this situation, the others exchanged strange glances. At least he wouldn’t be made fun of anymore, even if it was in a strange way.

[junkissed]

goodnight n go (teaser)

member — fwb!vernon x reader genre — smut, angst, non-idol au teaser word count — 1.7k full fic word count — 10.2k synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different. warnings — mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, car sex, guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, no physical descriptions of reader, vernon is afraid of commitment. this is a teaser and the final fic will have a happy ending !! notes — before you ask, yes this is based on the ariana song lol but also inspired by black eye because it's been stuck in my head the past few days. as always, thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i'm still on hiatus and requests are closed but i randomly had inspiration to write something for vernon so i hope you enjoy! i am planning on writing more for this story, but i'm back at uni and my time is already quite limited, so i'll try to write more when i can! reblogs, comments, and asks are super appreciated, it means a lot and helps me keep writing so please lmk if you liked it :)

“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”

as usual, that’s how it starts.

you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.

you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice, and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.

at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.

you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.

he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.

every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.

hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.

he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.

he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.

he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.

hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.

he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.

his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.

you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.

he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.

the rest of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.

hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.

“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.

“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.

“i’ll wait with you, then.”

the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same. 

sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.

no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.

finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.

maybe this time will be different.

he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week. 

and you find yourself nodding.

you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.

maybe next time will be different.

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[cuteandhughesy]

You Are In Love | Matthew Knies

summary: john tavares' sister is the social media manager for the leafs. she loves her job and the friendships she forms with the team - but what happens when her older brother invites her new crush to live with them.

[word count] 14.2k

warnings: NSFW! secret relationship | brothers teammate | mutual pinning | fluff | suggestive themes | smut | kissing | oral (female receiving) | unprotected! p in v intercourse | read at your own discretion.

a/n: okay I write this like over a year ago so it’s not the best! also i originally wrote it with an original character in mind - so if you see a name instead oh y/n….no you didn’t.

🎵 your are in love by taylor swift

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"he doesn't have a place to stay, so I offered him the other spare," john's voice was grainy over your cellphone speaker but you heard his words loud and clear. "It's the right thing to do."

"yeah!" you we're kind of in...shock. "The kids will love it..." they would - you weren't lying. that doesn't change the fact that you were kind of nervous.

your brother must've been able to tell by your tone, "you okay?" he asked.

you cleared your throat. "yeah."

"he's a good kid and he's your age - you've met him right?"

you have in fact met him. you have worked for the leafs for about a year. they had needed a new social media manager and somebody to run their teams tiktok account. When john told you, he said the team wanted more fun and interactive content on their pages and recommended you.

you had the degree and the charisma so you were hired with no questions. The fans loved the style of content you were posting, and the team had a great time answering your questions and lip syncing to stupid audios.

you were introduced to the newest maple leaf only a week ago. matthew knies had answered one of your daily questions before a practice and you were totally in awe. convinced you had never seen a better looking guy your age, you immediately developed a crush on the rookie.

so yeah, "I've met him two or three times. very polite."

"yeah," john says. jace runs into your legs and you grunt out from the force of your nephew slamming into your shins.

aryne walks into the living room with baby rae in her arms, she was feeding her. "is that john? is he on his way?"

"are you on your way?" you relay his wife's question. you can hear his turn signal in the background.

"yeah, 10 minutes away."

"10 minutes," you tell your sister in law. she smiles at you, ruffling jace's hair as she passes. your nephew has climbed into your lap, playing with the string of your hoodie.

"so," you begin, "when does he move in? do I need to get the bedroom ready..or?" you tried not to make yourself seem to eager to know. your brother couldn't know about your crush on his teammate.

"no no, i'll do the room. don't worry," john says, "he'll be moving in, probably in the next few days. I'll get everything ready when I get in."

you hold in a sigh. "okay, well, i'll let you go, I've gotta wake Axton up and help out with dinner."

"okay, I'll see you all in a bit. love you guys."

"love you," you say, "Jace say bye daddy." you hold the phone up to the little boys ear and he says just what you told him to. John and you laugh and then hang up.

yourself and aryne get dinner started after axton woke from his nap. aryne and you had always gotten along great, which is lucky considering she's married into the family. you're just glad she wasn't some stuck up girl like the kind of girls you'd grown up with. she was like the sister you've never had, which is why she could tell something was on your mind.

"you're quiet," she observes, slicing her knife through the carrot sticks. "you okay?"

"yeah," you say it too cheerful and immediately cringe at yourself, eyes not leaving the potatoes you'd been peeling. "just you know, nervous about the new...roomie. it's like college all over again," you try and laugh it off but aryne raises a brow.

"why would you be nervous?"

there really wasn't a point in lying to her. not only was she like a big sister but she acted like a best friend. "aryne I'm convinced i'm in love with him. he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen." you groan, hands falling into the pile of peelings in defeat.

"oh god," she says. she puts her knife down as jace and axton run through the kitchen giggling. "boys! no running please."

"Don't tell john," you say. "It's nothing serious - just a crush!"

"You know me," aryne says, hand on her hip. "our secrets stay our secrets." she goes back to her chopping. "besides," you look towards her with raised brows, "he's a cutie, maybe you guys will -"

"enough!" you throw a peel at her.

"hey!" johns voice calls through the house, and the sound of four feet running towards him can be heard. baby rae giggles and coos in her high chair as your brother enters the kitchen.

"hey," he repeats, kissing aryne on the lips and squeezing your shoulder on his way past. "what are you two gossiping about,"

"nothing," you say, putting the potatoes in the pot as you and aryne begin boiling the soup.

—

matthew had moved in a week ago. you were right, jace and axton adored him. so did you but you didn't mention that to anybody except aryne and only after two glasses of wine.

you're sure he is actually the sweetest guy like ever. not only does he treat your nephews and niece with the most gentle care, but he has so much love and respect for your brother and sister in law for letting him stay in their home. aryne says she sees him looking at you often, but you don't believe her. matthew was just as lovely when he spoke to you at home and at work - which is weird saying 'see you at home' to two leafs now - but you digress.

It was wenesday morning practice, and you were working. it was question day, so last night around midnight when you happened to remember - you grabbed the bristol board and sharpie and wrote: 'who's your celebrity crush?'

you stood near the entrance of the rink, cup of hot tea in your hands, with the board propped up against your legs. your co - worker, maddie, was holding the work phone, ready to record the players heading onto the ice, answering the prompt as they came from the locker room.

morgan rielly came first and chuckled at the sign.

"cmon mo, give us an answer," you laughed along with him.

he hummed for a moment but settled on, "megan fox."

you and maddie were getting a lot of the same answers, megan fox or margot robbie with an odd ball thrown in every now and then.

"here we go," you laughed knowingly as mitch marner slowed down to read the sign. he dropped his head back in defeat, "can I say my fiancé?"

you groaned, "mitch no."

and then you noticed another body slow down and read the sign as well. you tried not to blush when you smelt the cologne on matthews neck, a dead giveaway that it was him.

mitch rubbed his jaw, "you guys make these too hard," mitch concludes, "you're trying to put me in the dog house."

matthew laughs and your knees get weak.

maddie scoffs, "it's not hard, you're just difficult."

"exactly," you agree.

"alright, let me see the phone," mitch grabbed the cellphone, directing it in your direction, a giggling maddie behind mitch's shoulder. "alright, kniesy , get your interview pants on."

and matthew goes along with it. you didn't think he was comfortable enough - too shy maybe but no. he held a fake microphone towards your mouth and asked "who's your celebrity crush, Ms. Y/N Tavares?"

you felt your face wanting to get hot and you internally scolded yourself. "oh you know.."

"it's not difficult," mitch mocks you and matthew laughs.

you grab the non existent microphone, which just ends up with you pulling Matthew's glove closer to your face, holding his hand in place. "oh my god, It's Dylan O'brien you freaks." matthew laughs as he looks down at you. "now let me do my job and ask you the questions."

mitch gives a laughing maddie the phone back as william nylander walks out, followed by john. your brother barley stops to look but laughs, walking away as he calls out his answer.

william ponders briefly but says, "madison beer." mitch sucks in air fast, "good one!" mitch starts to walk away, "i'll say margot robbie!"

"boring!" maddie shouts with a laugh.

matthew stands with his hand on his hips and takes a deep breath but then he just like, walks away which is...rude.

"hey," you say, "are you going to answer?"

he looks back with what looks so be a slight smirk, "I can't tell - it's a secret!" and you swear you see him wink at you, but based on maddie's reaction of turning to you all wide eyed and open mouthed - you are certain matthew knies definitely winked at you.

—

matthew was sitting on the family room couch, scrolling through his phone as you came down the stairs. at the sound of your foot steps, he looked up and towards you, a small smile overtaking his lips.

you sent him a closed mouth smile back. "hey."

"morning," matthew said. he couldn't help but notice how fresh you looked. you had just showered and gotten ready, and matthew was smitten at the smell of your strawberry honey shampoo mixed with whatever sweet fragrance you sprayed on.

"are the kids up yet?" you didn't hear them, so you knew the answer already.

"don't think so," he hums, "just us so far."

you nod in agreement. "well, I was gunna head for some tims coffee before anybody had woken up, but, I mean, did you want to come with me?"

he was up off the couch before you could finish, "yeah." he said it so casually and the way he whipped on his hat so perfectly and grabbed his keys was just....ugh.

you two made small talk until you were both seated and buckled into matthews car. he passed you the aux cord wordlessly, which was just, wow. you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard and took the cable from him, hitting shuffle on your playlist.

"so," he started, pulling out of the driveway, flicking on his signal for the passing cars on the street. "how long have you been working for the team?"

he glanced at you quickly before pulling onto the street, the gps pulled up on his phone between his (massive thighs) legs, letting him know where to go.

"probably about a year now...and maddie joined me about 3 months ago. she's great and has helped a lot." after all, what if matthew wasn't winking at you but maddie - what if all this time he's been trying to get know maddie. how humiliating would that be - god he probably doesn't even think -

"do you like it?" matthew brought you out of your depletion. the way he had said it was almost like he could read your thoughts and he was telling your brain to shut up.

matthew didn't know you were johns sister when he first met you. not until you were introduced as so. sure, you both had dark hair and the same eyes, but you were a girl and matthew was clueless so why would he assume that the girl who thought was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen was related to his new captain.

it wasn't until auston matthews said, "have you met johns sister yet?"

"I don't think so," matthew said, "was I supposed to?" he had been confused because why would johns sister be there.

"our social media girl? you know, the hot one with dark hair." auston said it so nonchalantly but matthew felt his face drop. it couldn't be.

"fuck." was all he could say because fuck was right. he was lusting over his captains sister.

"yeah, I love it actually," your answer to his question snapped matthew out of his thoughts. "everybody is so lovely, and the friendships i've gained with the guys, it's amazing...even when mitch drives me up the wall."

he could just tell by the tone of your voice that you truly loved working for them. his phone alerted him they were two minutes away from tim hortans.

"the guys like having you around," matthew says. "or at least I do anyways, It's nice."

"thanks. means a lot." you look over at him and admire his side profile. he is so handsome. the music stops and changed over to the next song. with furrowed brows, matthew glances to the screen and then smirks. "big swiftie?"

you were kinda shocked that's what he said first and didn't slander her. "yeah," you said carefully. "are you?"

he laughed, "duh."

you gave him a skeptical look as the car pulled into the entrance of the coffee shop. he glanced over and saw your face in disbelief and rolled his eyes playfully.

you laughed out in shock, "hey! you can't blame me for being skeptical."

"you're right," he surrenders one of his hands, the other using the wheel to steer them into a parking spot (which was super hot.) "what If I told you i'm in my 1989 era? would you believe me?"

he unbuckled his seatbelt and you stared at him fondly. a look that had matthews stomach doing flips. "yeah. i'd believe you."

"good." he jumped out of the car and rounded to your side to open the damn door like some gentleman and you swooned. a swiftie and opening the door? was he just full of green flags? "you're definitely in your lover era," he states, "the vibes are too strong for any other era."

you laughed. "lover is great."

and when you both made it inside and started the order, you felt like crying when matthew ordered timbits for the kids, got john and aryne a drink and asked what you wanted and then payed for it all wordlessly - you swore you were in love.

as you waited for the drinks you could feel matthews eyes looking down towards you, because hell he was tall and had no choice but to look at the top of your head. "do you always get that drink?"

you rolled your head back to look into his eyes and nodded. "yeah, you can try it if you want."

"i'll stick to my hot drink," he smirks. "hot coffee over cold all day."

you have him a perplexed look. "what?! you're wrong."

"I'm not!" he laughs, moving to grab the tray of beverages as the teen calls it out from behind the counter. "my taste it clearly superior if we're even having this conversation."

you chuckle, "sure big guy."

back in his vehicle, your music resumes from where it left off, the stunning cords of corniela street flowing through the speakers once more.

"that would be a good question for your account." Matthew starts and you raise your brows in question. "ask the boys what their favourite Taylor swift song is? I bet the fan girls will love it - mitch too."

you think it actually would be a good question and take a mental note. "I agree."

__

It was after a team breakfast when you chose to go around with your mini - microphone to ask the boys questions for this weeks video. the team was all dressed comfortably, which is a nice change for the feed, most of them happy and full of delicious food so it was easy to get them to comply for the video.

It was just you today, maddie had the day off so you went around with your phone in one hand, paperwork under one arm and mini mic in the other hand.

"nick, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" nick robertson looked at you with raised eyebrows. he kissed his teeth and his hands on his hips before leaning down to the microphone.

"anti - hero." you thanked him and he laughed. "was that a good answer?"

you smiled, "yes."

and you kept moving, asking any player who you laid eyes on.

"joseph, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "love story"

"willy, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "look what you made me do."

"mitch, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "my fiancés is cardigan so cardigan."

"auston, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" you asked the forward, with a smirk on his lips he looked down at you.

"I don't know any." he was teasing you, obviously.

"yes you do," you laughed, "think hard."

"I am."

matthew could hear your laugh from across the room and his eyes landed upon you and auston. he was looking at you with a look that Matthew didn't like and you were laughing at what he was saying and that made him feel a bit...funny.

before he couldn't even think about what he was doing, he marched over there, abandoning his conversation with kerfoot and joining you and auston.

"hey," matthew says. "are you doing questions today?"

and just like that, you smiled that bashful smile and your cheeks got warm and matthew felt good.

"yeah!" you said, microphone swiveling towards matthew as you captured the two of them on video. "matthew, what's your favourite taylor swift song?"

he smiled and wanted to scream. you had used his question. it filled him so much joy and pride because auston may find you hot and make you laugh but you were using his questions and blushing at him.

"well, y/n," matthew started, taking the mini - microphone from your hands and bringing it to his mouth. you giggled. like an actual little girl. "my favourite taylor swift is cornelia street."

you spit thickened and you felt like you couldn't swallow. oh, you think, that's the song you had played in the car when he proposed the question. it was so...sweet.

"mines probably you belong with me," auston speaks and you have to blink hard because you forgot the goal scorer was even there.

matthew was looking at you with a look that makes you hot and bothered. you're sure now, this isn't been in your head. he was flirting.

"thanks, yeah," you take back you're microphone, "thanks. I better go ask o'rielly the same question, he looks left out."

and then you just left, matthews eyes burning into your retreating figure.

you were so screwed.

—

after that video went out, fans were absolutely loving matthew knies. and fair enough, you think. he was especially popular with the leafs female audience, and once again, you couldn't blame them.

fans wanted more matthew knies - they loved him and loved when you posted videos with him or about him. you also happened to love it too so it was a win win.

"it'll be quick!" you say quickly, "don't you want me to succeed at my job? give me content." you pass your brother the phone.

matthew laughs at your words and you smile.

"do you think you have the idea of it john?" you and already explained when to stop the audio and when to pan to who about 8 times now.

"yeah, yeah." he says. "why can't I be in the video?"

"well one, the audio is only two people," you point out, fixing your hair, "and two, the fans love matthew. you're outdated old man."

your brother laughs.

"okay, ready?" you ask matthew.

he crosses his arms and it makes his chest look even broader. "oh yeah, y/n/n, cmon now."

john doesn't catch on to the lovetseuck look you're definitely giving his teammate - thank god. probably too busy thinking over his instructions again.

"okay, john," you say.

the tiktok starts and the audio begins. you instructed him to focus on you for the first portion. you begin lip syncing to emma chamberlains met gala interview with jack harlow.

"i'll see you in there,"

video stops. you tell him to pan to matthew then, who delivers his line perfectly in your opinion.

"cant wait. love you, bye."

he chuckles when the video stops and you can't help but smile at him. you tell john that both you and matthew will be in the next shot.

"love you," you lipsync with a smile and as instructed, matthew walks out of view, and the last seconds of the video you give a shocked look to the camera - playing out the original interview clip perfectly.

matthew laughs and you and john join him. "ugh, perfect."

john gives you a high five and moves to collect his bag out of the trunk of his vehicle.

matthew joins you as you watch the tiktok over. his body is warm against your back, breathing soft and it tickles your exposed neck, making your stomach tingle.

"they'll love it," you say, "my bosses and the fans."

"how could they not?" he says, eyes looking into yours. "we killed it. you killed it, like usual."

"don't praise me matthew it turns me on." you say before you can even think of who you're talking to. what the fuck, your face drops, why did I say that? "I mean -"

matthew looks at you with a look you can't quite decipher and then he says, "good." he smirks and just leaves, grabbing his bag and walking into the players section of the arena with john. leaving you dumbfounded.

after making sure the audio was properly synced up and that everything looked okay, you posted the tiktok to the maple leafs account with the caption: when the knies/tavares household pulls up for work.

your favourite comment was one you found that said they shipped you and matthew - but you kept that information to yourself.

—

matthew couldn't help but glance at you discreetly once again. he had actually lost count of all the times he found himself admiring the side of your face, only lit up by the movie playing infront of you.

he was slightly smirking when you looked over at him, "matthew, pay attention." you scolded, pulling the blanket up to your chin and rolling towards him on your side. you weren't touching, but the heat of his body made you shiver.

"sorry," he breathes, eyes moving back to the movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen this before, It's a classic." you stated.

"I don't usually like romance movies," matthew says.

you sit up slightly, "how to loose a guy in 10 days isn't just a romance movie," matthew laughs as you try and mimic his voice, "it's funny and unique and creative and- ugh, just look-" you are distracted by Matthew McConaughey teaching Kate Hudson how to ride a motorcycle. "if I was that annoying and somebody still fell in love with me, I'd be smitten."

"you are that annoying," matthew is giving you a look when you scoff and roll your eyes at him. just then the two of you are both laughing, matthews head falling to your shoulder.

"I can't believe you," it's a whisper as it leaves your lips, eyes downcast as you look into matthews eyes. his head is still on your shoulder, looking up at you like a giant puppy dog. "i'm not annoying."

he smirks and you have to refrain from kissing him. "you're not annoying, no."

you smile triumphantly before pushing his head off you softly, to which it's his turn to scoff into the dark room. "rude."

"you love it."

"i do," matthew says back. he watches your face heat up as you try and keep focused on the tv. he's in trouble.

__

you had always found him attractive, but something about him helping the kids make mini pizzas had you wanting to fuck the shit out of matthew knies.

he was so gentle with the boys, and you're heart just melted everytime.

john and aryne had gone out for the night for a date - which was much needed. the leafs had an off day, which was rare, so you made your brother and his wife take the time and focus on them - with the promise you and matthew would watch the kids. well, you promised you watch the kids. you told matthew he should go out with hang with his friends but he declined. 'I'd much rather stay here with you...and the kids of course'

oh okay matthew i'll just fall more in love with you.

"wow, jace look at your pepperoni smiley face!" you're holding rae as you praise your nephew and he giggles, showing you his little teeth. "is it ready for the oven?"

"yes," jace said.

"okay, hold my hand to get down." his little palm grabbed yours and he slid off the kitchen chair.

"matthew, is axton almost done?" jace pulled on the leg of matthews sweat pants with a giggle.

matthew looked down and laughed at the kids sweet expression, "just about buddy."

you rounded the island to looked at your other nephews pizza. "wow!" you smiled and axton gave you a toothy grin.

"axton wanna show your aunt how you put the cheese on?" matthew asked him and you gave an encouraging nod when the blonde looked back up at you.

his chubby little fist grabbed a handful of shredded mozzarella and let it fall on the pizza with a laugh.

"good job baby!" you said, ruffling his hair. "is it ready to go in the oven?"

"yes," he gurgled.

"alrighty," matthew picked him up, swinging his little body out of the chair and placing his feet on the ground. "let's get these in the oven, don't touch okay guys. it's very hot."

"listen to matthew - I gotta put your sister down for bed, okay? i'll be back soon" you told them and they nodded. matthew watched your retreating figure with a grin on his face. he had put the two pizzas in the oven and sat with jace and axton in the living room. the boys were playing with toy cars and then suddenly jace bounced over onto matthews lap with a cheeky grin.

"what's up dude?"

"do you love my aunt y/n?"

"what?" matthew asked, tickling his stomach to make the boy laugh. "where'd you learn that from?"

"I learned from mommy." he said. "she says to aunt y/n that you love her."

oh, he thinks, am I that obvious about my feelings.

"i love everybody in this house. even you jacey." matthew says and jace, satisfied, leaves his lap, playing with his toys again, the only sound being the toy car wheels running on the hardwood floor and the hum of the over cooking the pizzas.

matthew thinks about you then, and how perfect you are. your smell, your smile, you're body...he needs a cold shower and a reality check.

later after you ate dinner and put the boys to sleep, you and matthew were busy in the kitchen. matthew was putting away pizza toppings and wiping down the counter top while you were elbow deep in soap suds.

you heard matthew chuckle to himself and you quirked an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder.

"what's so funny over there?"

he looked up at the sound of your voice and shook his head. "nothing, just -" he collected a handful of dirty dishes left over on the island and brought them over to the filled sink. "-earlier, jace asked me If I loved his aunt y/n."

your hands stopped scrubbing the plate you were working on, looking up towards him on your left. he was leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you.

"oh, god," you chuckled breathlessly. "sorry, he's just, curious."

"I don't mind, really." matthew says it quick and it makes you swallow hard. "At least he doesn't think I hate you...which is good. because I don't."

"right," you laughed, "I don't hate you either."

he looks at you all soft and you just want to grab his face with your hands, soap and all, and kiss him.

"y/n..." his arms uncross and it looks like he's about to reach out and touch you. "I've been waiting-"

the code beeps at the front door. "we're home." aryne says, smile happy and cheeks warm. stomach full of one glass of wine...or two glasses.

you try not to let your face show disappointment as matthew does the same.

"the kids go down okay?" john asks, tossing his keys on the counter.

"yeah," you clear your throat, eyes darting back to the sink. "everything is great."

"thanks again," aryne says, hugging your waist from behind. "you guys are the best."

"of course." matthew said. you glanced at him softly out of the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.

—

with the playoffs, it was harder to get content like you usually strive after. the boys were busy with extra practices and they were extremely focused on trying to win games - which, you know, was good.

so you got the most content with fans before the games, taking pictures and videos for the account - which was just as fun.

the guys rocked the first round and you texted matthew every night when they were in tampa, congratulating him on his goals and the teams performance: you tried not to scream of joy when he had sent back the kissing face emoji.

fast forward to a rather difficult round two. thankfully the leafs had pushed it to a game five, which was...good you suppose but still nerve wracking nonetheless.

you had been standing with aryne when it happened. often when you worked, you tried to join aryne and the kids during the warm up to capture some family content for the page. you were entertaining jace as the boys played, your eyes weren't even watching the ice or anybody but then the crowd stood in a rather negative uproar - and not the kind of disappointment when flordia scored a goal - it was different.

"oh no," aryne winced and your eyes shot up, seeing matthew laying on the ice looking rather...uncomfortable.

"what's happening?" you asked her. the trainer had reached matthew and was speaking to him with a hand on his back.

"he kinda got...slammed down. his head hit the ice."

it took a few minutes but he slowly got up, but had headed straight down to the tunnel. the game resumed but you had been too distracted by what happened to pay attention. 20 minutes passed and he still hasn't returned, which wasn't good.

"maybe you should go check on him?" aryne suggested.

you stopped biting at the skin of your thumb. "no, i'm okay." you said it quick and not even you were convinced at your own words.

aryne sighed. "y/n..."

you didn't budge.

"he doesn't have any family here besides us...I'm worried too and axton keeps asking about him - and I can see that you're stressed. go."

you took a moment but nodded in agreement, "okay, yeah," you grabbed your pass around your neck as a nervous habit, "yeah, are you okay with the kids?"

"of course," she said.

"I'll text you."

It didn't take long to reach the assessment room. that's where you found matthew and the team doctor and trainers. they turned at the sound of you entering the room and the trainer sent you a tight lip smile. the doctor was doing another test on matthew but you could tell by his eyes. something was wrong.

"is he okay?" you asked billy, the usual trainer, in a whisper.

"concussion for sure," he sighed, "even if the season keeps going, he won't be able to play."

you felt like crying for him. his nhl dream is cut short for the season. "oh." you whispered.

"y/n?" matthew asked. you tucked some hair behind your ear and moved towards him.

"hey.." you sat down in the stall next to him. billy was directed by the doctor to speak outside, giving you and matthew a moment alone. "how are you feeling?"

"like shit," he sighs, head falling back against the stall. "This sucks." you think you see his lip quiver and that makes your heart ache.

"It does," you agree, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing it soothingly.

"how come you came down here?" matthew asked, "i'll be fine."

you shake your head and look down, tears collecting in your waterline. "oh you know...the boys were wanting me to check -" you look up towards his face and he looks at you so concerned - the guy with the concussion was looking at you like he was concerned about you.

"I was so worried." you admit finally, tears welling in your eyes. "i'm just...sad for you."

"don't cry," he says softly, "I don't want you to be worried about me. I'll be okay." he tucks a piece of hair being your ear, hand trailing down your pleather jacket. "I mean, I got a killer headache but it'll go away," you gave him a look. "besides, if you worry too much you'll give yourself a stroke and then our new social media manager won't be you and then I can't flirt." he was trying to be funny.

"don't crack jokes," you try and scold him, "it's not funny." you can't help but smile though.

his fingers play with your keycard around your neck. "I feel better seeing you though. anytime I see you I automatically just feel like 100 times better."

"matthew," you whisper, "you're too concussed to be flirting like this."

"yeah, but," he grabs your cheek softly, "I mean it. y/n, I really like talking with you, and flirting with you, and hanging out with you. the other day in the kitchen...I was going to tell you but then your brother came in- I know I like you."

you smirked, "like as a friend or.."

"shut up.." he mumbled through his grin.

you kiss him, gently as you didn't want to shake his brain anymore than it's already been shook. his lips carefully move against yours in a way that feels so soft and comfortable you could cry again. matthews hand drops from your face and down your chest, forearm wrapping all the way around your waist until he's pulling you to stand, dragging you towards him, slipping his thick leg between both of yours.

he grunts out and the buzzer goes off throughout the area, signalling the end of a period. reluctantly, you pull away, hands caressing the side of his face. "did that hurt your head?"

the way you ask it so genuinely makes matthew feel like he's healed. he smirks lazily up at you, "no -i'm feeling really good."

the door clicks, signaling its being opened and you jump away from him, running a hand over your hair in attempt to look natural- and if matthew had to cover his crotch that was nobody's business. 

later after a disappointing end to the game, successfully ending the leafs season, you all made it home. aryne had ordered pizza as john said he wanted something greasy - which was nice. the entire time at the table, you kept catching matthews eyes, to which he'd smirk and look away. you're positive your cheeks were permanently red for the duration of dinner.

and when you slipped your foot up matthews leg and he had to cough to cover his gasp, well, you couldn't help but smile cheekily to yourself.

you were laying in bed. glancing at the clock at the top left of your phone screen you groaned put. 1:38 a.m.

without thinking much of it, you opened your text messages.

y/n tavares

you can't tell john

his replay came almost immediately.

matthew knies

I won't

matthew knies

why are you still awake?

y/n tavares

just been thinking a lot

y/n tavares

why are you still awake. you aren't supposed to be on your phone

matthew knies

🤷. it's my hourly wake up. aryne was just in here to check on me

matthew knies

why's got you thinking so much that you can't sleep?

y/n tavares

you honestly

matthew knies

me…why?

y/n tavares

because we kissed

matthew knies

<3

—

the next morning was quiet. everybody woke up around 9, even the kids which was nice. you all had breakfast together not long after waking, and then right around lunch, john and aryne took this kids to aryne's mom's, leaving yourself and matthew alone.

you walk down the staircase after returning from your room, pulling the hoodie you had retrieved over your shoulders. matthew was sitting at the kitchen island, twidling with his thumbs. he wasn't allowed screen time for 72 hours because of his concussion, resulting in a very uneventful morning.

you smile softly at him as he meets your gaze, a sudden nervousness washing over you. I mean, you two like totally made out the day prior, and you hadn't stopped thinking of his lips since.

matthew was the same way. not a second had gone by without thinking of you and the kiss, hell, it was all he could really do without his phone - even after the texts he shouldn't of responded to anyways - he would do anything for you.

"hey," you start and he smirks lazily at you.

"hey," matthew repeats. the two of you hadn't had a moment alone since the kiss and suddenly everything felt really real.

you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie, sitting down at the empty barstool beside him. "how are you feeling?"

"better now that you're here." he says easily, leaning in closer to you. you blush under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you watch his eyes flicker down to your mouth and up again. "how are you feeling?"

you frown slightly, "I'm fine?" you laugh.

"I mean, like, since we kissed." you don't say anything at first so matthew continues, "I like you, like, a lot and everything I said last night...I meant. but I didn't even ask you how you were feeling or if you felt the same way. I just want to check on you."

oh, you think, that's actually really sweet. "matthew I haven't stopped thinking about you since the moment we met. I've had a crush on you like this whole time," you say shyly and matthews smirk grows, "I was so nervous when john told me you were staying here because I thought if you were around me too much you would get sick of me and then you wouldn't fall hopelessly in love with me," you laugh. "but i suppose I was wrong."

"you were definitely wrong," he agrees, tucking a piece fallen hair behind your ear. he moves down your body until he's interlocking fingers with the hand you had resting on the table and he squeezes it three times. "when I first met you, I didn't even know you were johns sister."

"no?"

matthew laughs, "no! and then auston asked if I had met johns sister. he said you were the hot one."

you laugh, "auston thinks im hot?"

"hey!" matthew laughs, "too late for that. anyways - I thought there was no way that the most beautiful girl i'd ever seen was the sister of my new captain. I thought there was no way that...this would happen."

he gestures between the two of you and you smile sweetly.

"guess i'm the luckiest guy in the world, huh."

"I think we both are pretty lucky," you slide off the stool, and matthew spreads his thighs as you move to stand between them, your hands wrapping around his neck as his rest on your lower back, dangerously close to the round of your ass.

matthew smirks.

"so," you state, "with that being said - I want you. like, all the time. even when you go back home, I don't want whatever this is to end."

"I don't want it to end," he agrees, "I want to like date the shit out of you."

you giggle and matthews heart flutters. you're so beautiful, he thinks.

"so you don't have like a girlfriend at home or anything?" you're joking but you do glance at him with a serious look and matthew's face drops.

"god no," he says, rubbing a hand over your ass. "and you don't secretly want auston right?" but he's truly joking and you roll your eyes playfully.

"nah, the guy I want is right here," matthew leans in and presses his lips to yours, squeezing you tightly and pulling your body closer to his. you sigh into it, fingers running through his hair.

"i'm going to miss you when you're gone," you say against his mouth.

"i'll miss you," he says quickly, "but in the mean time, i'll make sure to get as much as you as I can."

you lean in to kiss him again until your phone beeps with a text.

"it's john," you say, "he says there leaving now. they'll be home in 30."

matthew smirks, "mhmm what could we do for 30 minutes...?"

you giggle, running up the stairs towards your room, matthew following.

__

"mhmm, that feels so good." your words are a breathless sigh against the darkness of matthews bedroom.

his bright eyes flicker up to meet yours, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he spread your legs, giving himself free range to keep pleasing you.

once matthews concussion was cleared, he headed back home for a month to visit and catch up with his family and friends. that meant leaving you and your new relationship behind. he texted you constantly, so anytime john was near, you made sure the phone wasn't accessible to him.

both you and matthew were absolutely smitten for one another.

it was his first night back from his trip back home, and seeing him again for the first time made you horny - like, immediately. but of course, you controlled yourself around your family to keep the secret a secret. and you had controlled yourself for 10 long, excruciating hours. john and aryne had gone to bed around 9 and as soon as 10 was about to hit, you snuck down to matthews room.

so here you were, with matthews mouth working wonders on your pussy - the squelching of your wetness and breathy moans were the only noteble noises in the room. "fuck, matthew, keep doing that."

he groaned against you, and it had pushed you over the edge, cumming hard all over his face and his fingers he had buried inside you.

shirtless, he crawled up over your naked body, kissing your neck up to your face until you could taste yourself on him. "fuck," he said.

you pushed him onto his back, and he smirked, watching as you climbed on top of him. you pulled his cock out of his underwear, letting it slap hard against his toned stomach. using your slick, you coated his dick before using your hand to line him against your entrance.

you sunk down, moaning loud enough so that matthew had to cover your mouth with his big hand - which obviously turned you on more.

you started rolling and bouncing on his dick fast, gripping your tits as his free hand thumbed at your clit. "fuck, i'm gunna cum soon." he told you.

you moaned, "me too."

he smirked up at you all hot and sexy, "you gotta be quiet."

you smiled breathlessly, continuing to jump on him, taking all of him inside you. between your two bodies was soaked in your juices, making the noises in the room even more intense.

matthew grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back without leaving your warmth, where's he started to fuck you at unfathomable levels, having your mouth hang open in a silent scream.

you were almost there, the coil in your stomach was about to snap until the light in the hallway flicked on. matthew stopped his movements, his one hand covering your mouth incase any noises slipped out.

his door was locked, of course, but what if. you start to pray it's somebody just using the bathroom but matthew starts to move inside you again, giving you a smirk. fuck, you think, this is so hot.

your eyes roll back and you grip his shoulder as you cum, tightening around his length as he plummets into you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see the light flicker off just as matthew shoots his load into you, effectively bringing your attention back to him. "ugh god." he says into your neck.

how the hell were you supposed to face anybody in the house tomorrow: how the hell were you going to walk after that.

__

you and matthew had a habit of discreetly slipping out to get the mail. you actually did always end up getting the mail - but it was never about that. you two just wanted to spend time with one another, away from prying eyes and questioning.

matthew's body was big and warm pressed up against yours. the heat of the setting sun was relaxing, setting the tone for when matthew could finally slip his hand into yours.

you sighed, head dropping to his shoulder as you approached the community mail box, about half a block away from the house.

"you okay?" he says softly and your heart just about wants to melt.

"yeah," you lean your head back to look at him, "I just needed this." you squeeze his hand to prove a point. "I missed you when you were gone."

"I missed you too," he stopped walked and wrapped you in a hug. "like, wayyyyy too much - I think I jerked off like 5 times-"

"ew!" you screeched out a laugh. "you're gross."

the ways he's smirking all hot and his tan skin and he's bulked back up already from the weight drop at the end of the season and it's just...so good. it gets even better when he kisses you, right in the middle of the sidewalk. and you think you want to marry him.

—

"anything exciting happen over the weekend?" maddie asked you, her soft lips tugged up in a knowing smirk. unlike the rest of the world, she knew about you and matthew and the blossoming relationship.

"nope," you say, setting up the daily question sign, along with your ring light and tripod: ready to capture the team.

"right..." she says, "so no...I don't know - 6 foot 3, hot, muscular, brunette hockey players pay your vagina any visits?"

"maddie!" you scold, "you're being too loud." you look around to make sure nobody was in earshot.

"what!" she laughs in defence. "it's like i'm watching a romance novel, I need to ask the right questions."

you start recording as the players exit the dressing room and make their way to the rink, passing you both, slowing down to read an answer the question provided.

"what's your favourite movie?"

you were getting a nice range of answers, which was good. from oppenheimer to when harry met sally - the boys did not disappoint.

you felt a nudge to your ribs from maddie, which made you raise your brows and look up from the work on the laptop. she gestured towards the players tunnel so you followed her eyesight, only to land on matthew walking out.

immediately, you felt hot, smiling as you made eye contact with him.

he smiled back, coming to a stop to read the sign. he walked closer until he was standing as close as he could to you with still being in camera view. "what's your favourite movie?" he asked you.

you suddenly became shy, tucking some curled hair behind you ear. "oh, I - I don't know."

"yeah, you do." he said immediately, that cheeky smile once again on his lips.

you looked up towards him gobsmacked, you you just knew maddie was watching you two with an open mouth and heart eyes. it's the way he was looking at you: so adoringly.

"probably how to loose a guy in 10 days." you say.

"okay mine too." he tells you and then directs his eyes to the camera. "how to loose a guy in 10 days."

and there's no way you can keep that interaction in the video and post it because the way he talks to you is so...hot.

"okay," you repeat back to him.

"okay," he says back, gloved fingers gently squeezing yours behind the bristol board before leaving you to stand alone, giddy as you watch him skate.

—

"careful, you're gunna get soap in my eyes," you scold matthew as his hands scrub your scalp with shampoo.

"close them then," he tells you and you gasp out a laugh, slapping his strong wet chest with your hand. he smirks, his fingers working wonders over your head, you eyes having no choice but to close in pleasure.

the two of you were taking advantage of the empty house, john away at an event for his foundation, aryne and the kids out visiting her parents and grocery shopping. as soon as the door clicked leaving the two of you alone, matthew practically raced you to the shower, stripping and stepping into the spew of water.

"alright, rinse." he tells you, directing you around to let the warm water wash away the suds.

"your turn," you say. you're stretching trying to reach the top of his head and he laughs down at you.

"having difficulty?"

you give him a look and it makes his smile wider. "help me," you eventually whine out. he obeys, his large hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling you up to wrap around his hips.

as you begin to happily wash his hair, you feel his soft lips trail down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, and moving to take your nipple into his mouth.

"matty," your head falls back.

he stops, unwrapping your legs from his waist, placing you gently back on the floor. "I love when you call me that." your hearts swells at the look on his face, continuing to beat hard as he grabs your face and kisses you.

kissing matthew was always amazing. his lips were so plump and soft, making for the perfect make out everytime. what feels likes hours pass, his lips not once leaving yours. you swear if you looked down, your fingers would be pruned.

a soft knock on the bathroom door breaks you two apart and you gasp, slapping a hand over matthews mouth. he raises his eyebrows at you, unimpressed by your slap, but you ignore him.

"hello?"

"hey," aryne says on the other side of the door, "we're back."

"okay," you say, trying to ignore the way matthews big hands we're feeling you up.

"where's matthew?" his hands stop kneading your ass and he gives you a bewildered look.

"oh, umm, I think he's in his room." you say quickly.

"okay," she says, "I'm going to go see what he's feeling for dinner."

"no!" you say too loud and way too quickly. it has aryne frowning, hesitating by the bathroom door.

"no?"

you meet matthews eyes. "yeah, no. I think he's sleeping."

"okay," aryne doesn't sound convinced and that had you worried. "alright, well, i'm sure he won't mind whatever I decide."

"tell her i'm down for tacos." matthew whispers and you shush him.

"I think he mentioned something about tacos earlier, If that helps." you tell her matthews wishes anyways which earns you a cheesy grin from the man.

"okay," aryne says, "alright, anyways, I'll see you when you're done."

"yup," you say, listening to her footsteps as she walks away from the bathroom. immediately you groan, head falling to your boyfriends chest.

later after everybody has eaten dinner, the kids have been put to bed and matthew and john went downstairs to watch their highlights and game plays, you and aryne sat on the living room couch, cuddled up in pyjamas and glasses of wine: aryne sipping her red and you trying not to chug your white.

"so," her demeanour shifts from fun conversations and discussing what funny things the kids did at their grandparents to a more serious, inquisitive tone and immediately you feel worried. "how long have you and matthew been seeing each other?"

you spit your mouthful of wine back into your glass, sitting up in the couch a little straighter. "what," you splutter out, "I am not seeing matthew- I-Why would you even think that."

her face doesn't change, still the knowing smirk on her lips. "y/n, I'm not stupid."

"aryne - matthew and I - I don't even like him that much honestly," you try to be nonchalant, sipping your spat out wine with red cheeks.

"oh," she sits up, "so in the span of what, 7 months, you've gone from being totally smitten and in love to not even liking him?"

damn, she got you there. "yup." you lie, crossing your legs.

"please," she says. "also, you two weren't slick today."

you give her a look.

"I mean, at first I didn't think anybody was in the shower with you - but then when matthew had come downstairs form his 'nap' with damp hair - and smelling like your shampoo, I knew."

you didn't know why you wanted to cry. but you did, and when aryne looked at you again she frowned. "don't cry," she says, wrapping you in her sisterly hug. "why are you upset?"

"because," you sniffle, "you're right. we've been seeing each other since before the summer."

aryne laughs, "I knew it."

"how?" you say into her shoulder.

"y/n, he looks at you like you created the universe - like you could do no wrong. and you look at him the exact same. I just knew."

her words give you goosebumps - did he really look at you like that?

"you can't tell john."

she pulls back from your cuddle with raised brows, "you know me, y/n/n , cmon."

the two of you cuddled on the couch in silence after that, the proposal playing quietly on the tv.

"for what it's worth," aryne says after a moment, "I think matthews amazing, and you two are most definitely perfect. It makes sense. and I would never tell him, but your brother wouldn't be mad at you - he loves matthew, and he loves you."

"I know," you hum.

and that was it. the movie was watched until you both fell asleep under the thick knitted blanket you shared, cozied up on the couch, glasses on wine now empty and sitting on the coffee table.

john and matthew came upstairs, talking amongst themselves until they stumbled into the living room, going quiet at the sight of you two cuddled on the couch in a deep sleep.

"oh gosh," john chuckles quietly, moving towards his wife. "do you mind getting y/n to bed?" he asks matthew as he gently shakes his wife awake.

"sure," matthew says.

john wakes aryne, and she groans, letting her husband drag her to bed, nothing more than a quiet goodnight passing her lips.

as they left, matthew moves towards you with a full heart. your lips puffed out as your breathed, on the verge of a soft snore. he crouched down, a hand running over your hair to wake you gently.

your eyes flutter in confusion at first, but then they spot your boyfriend and you smile. "hi."

"hi." he says with the smirk you love so damn much.

"I fell asleep," you state, letting matthew sit you up.

"I can see that," he says, pulling you to your feet.

you naw on your lip as you two begin walking to your room. "aryne knows." you tell matthew.

"knows what?" confused, he questions you.

"about us." you clarify. something flashes on matthews face that you can't decipher. you think he may be mad, but then he breaks out into a grin. "why are you grinning like that?" you can't help but smile as well.

"that means you can sleep in my room tonight," he says, dropping you to his bedroom. "john and I will be leaving for practice, and aryne won't be confused why you aren't in your own bed - because she knows."

"you're right," you whisper, admiring how excited he was. "let's go to sleep then. take me to bed."

—

october 17th

it was late when john and matthew got home from their game, party decor from matthew's 21st birthday still hanging in the kitchen, cake still on the counter.

john had nodded a goodnight at the rookie, wishing him one more happy birthday before heading up to bed to join his wife in a deep slumber.

all the lights were off, saved for the one under the microwave...and apparently the backyard light, matthew notices, the warm glow illuminating the kitchen through the glass patio doors.

making his way over, he opened the door, peeking around the corner.

you were sitting on the patio couch, bundled up in your favourite oversized hoodie, and a pair of what matthew can tell are his sweatpants.

"hey," matthew whispers and you jump slightly, hand held to your chest.

"you scared me," you laugh. he shuts the patio door softly behind him, making his way over until he was sitting next to you. "i've been waiting for you."

"here I am," he smiles, bringing you into his chest. suddenly you are grabbing a throw blanket, tossing it over the two of you to protect you from the nippy october air.

"I had all these candles lit and was gunna order your favourite food and wear that set you like under my clothes and wear one of those coats, that you know, cover it, but then," matthew loved when you rambled, "the frickin wind kept blowing the candles out, and the thai placed was closed and well I got cold so I had to change out of the coat,"

you are wearing a slight pout and matthew just chuckles sympathetically, kissing the side of your head. "that's okay."

"I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday." you concluded.

"having you next to me is perfect enough," matthew admits and you look up at him softly.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips, leaving you hot and bothered when he pulls away. he really knows how to kiss. "I have one more gift for you," you smirk and matthew raises his brows.

"I don't need anymore gifts - oh," matthew watches as you sink to your knees infront of him, unbuckling his belt. he lifts his hips to help you pull his pants down his thighs, revealing his already semi hard dick in his boxers.

matthew shivers as you reach in with your cold hand and pull his dick out, it hardening completely at your touch. he groans when your tongue licks the underside of his dick, all the way up until you reach the head. you kiss the tip softly, licking the pre - cum from his slit. "fuck baby," matthew says.

you look up at him through your lashes, a smirk on your lips and matthew thinks he could cum right then and there.

you take him into your mouth, bobbing your head as you suck him off. your hands cover the portion of his dick your mouth can't reach, the combination leaving a hot wet mess on his dick. matthew is groaning, calling out your name until he's reaching climax.

"i'm gunna cum," he says and not a moment later, he's shooting his load in your mouth. you swallow all of him, sliding off his dick with a pop.

you giggle at his relaxed face, very much pleasured out. "happy birthday," you whisper, climbing on his lap so you are straddling him.

he grabs your hips and kisses you.

"did you like your gifts?"

"I did," he chuckles, "although the hoodie you got me may have some competition with the gift I just received," you blush and throw your head back with laughter.

he brushes his lips against your exposed throat and instinctively your hips roll against his crotch looking for friction. matthew moans again.

"i'm not fucking you out here, it's cold." you decide and matthew groans with disappointment. you laugh, hitting his shoulder. "i'll fuck you inside though."

"i'm sold," he says, picking you up off his lap and setting you on the ground. you grab his hand and he says, "earlier you said you had to change out of your coat..does that mean you're still wearing lingerie underneath these sweats?"

you give him a sultry look, "guess you'll have to find out."

"you're killing me," he says, letting you drag him back inside.

matthew is a very happy birthday boy when not 5 minutes later he sees you are still clad in midnight blue lacy garments. happy 21st birthday to him.

—

you had been intently trying to finish up some work on your laptop from the comfort of your own bed before the work day ahead - key word: trying.

not only were you tired (it was almost 1 a.m.) but you were grumpy because maddie was sick, so a bunch of extra work was dumped on you and your boyfriend wouldn't stop annoying you.

matthew wasn't even doing anything that outrages, just playing with your hair and kissing your neck and he kept trying to show you funny videos on tiktok that aren't even that funny.

he tickled your side and you pushed his hand away. "you're annoying me," you say.

he doesn't buy it, so he did it again. "pay attention to me," matthew all but whines and you have to refrain from snapping at him.

he wasn't even doing anything that annoying. in fact, if it was a regular day, you would welcome everything matthew was doing with open arms, happy that your boyfriend wanted your attention. but it wasn't a normal day, the stress of the work load slowly building.

"babe, you know I want to get this done and you keep distracting me! it's annoying." your tone was sharp, a warning.

"i'm not even doing anything that bad," matthew argues like a naughty toddler, sitting up so he can look right into your eyes.

the bar of your patience has overfilled, except you don't get angry - just overwhelmed: throat tightening.

when matthew sees your eyes start to get watery, he frowns, "hey, i'm sorry." he knows you've been stressed, with like...everything and that wasn't even including the stress of having a secret relationship, which was something he was apart in. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

you sigh, sniffling. "you're not even being annoying - it's just everything is stressing me out and overwhelming me."

matthew uses his thumb to wipes your tears. "I think you should take a break for the night. we can finish tomorrow, right?"

"yeah," you huff, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you. are you mad at me?"

"i'm not mad at you." he laughs because your question was, well,...ridiculous. he grabbed you, pulling you down to cuddle into him. a few minutes pass of him playing with your hair in a way that didn't annoy you, pressing kisses to your hairline that has a way of fluttering your eyes, sleep on your doorstep.

your almost sleeping when matthew speaks up.

"hey," he whispers. you look up at him with gentle eyes and he pauses briefly. "you're my best friend, you know that?"

you smile. "am I?"

"yeah," he says in a sassy tone that he does that drives you up the wall but you don't even care in that moment - because you have the sweetest guy ever. "besties." he mimics a typical girly voice that you can't help but roll your eyes playfully, "besties," you agree.

he smirks all hot and you feel it all the way down to your toes. when matthew lays you down on your back and slips his big strong hand underneath your waistband - you don't protest, suddenly wide awake.

__

seeing the other wives and girlfriends wearing WAG jackets while you didn't and couldn't was never a nice feeling. there's nothing you wanted more than to wear Matthews name on your back - but instead, you stood with the teams phone to capture moments for the account: very much jacketless.

you were taking a video of TJ Brodie's kids watch their dad excitedly, giggling happy as their dad passed you a puck through the camera hole for you to gift to them.

you beam down at the blonde kiddies as his wife tells their kids to wave to their dad when suddenly you see a maple leaf player slam their body into the glass beside you. looking up, you make eye contact with matthew.

he smirks, and you try not to seem to excited in the arena full of fans, your friends and your brother. you roll your eyes at him, waving the phone as to tell him you're working but he just rolls his eyes playfully back at you. he does a couple warm ups in-front of you, which you record, because hey, it's good content.

he uses his stick to pick up a puck, gesturing you to open the camera hole. which, you do, of course. he puts his hand through, holding out the puck for you to take.

"why are you giving me this?" you ask him.

he shrugs, "just giving back to my fans."

you laugh sarcastically, taking the puck and shoving it in your jacket pocket. "how kind."

he winks before skating away.

unbeknownst to the two of you, john watched the interaction from the blue line as he was stretching, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. since when have the two of you...sure, you'd always been nice and civil to one another, friends even, john would say. but there was something on matthews face as he skated away from you that had johns heart strings being pulled.

inbetween periods, matthew had pulled out his phone, which he thought he did sneakily, and smiled at his screen, typing out a message. john couldn't help but think he was texting you - but, no, because he had to be imagining it. there's no way that the two of you have been building and involved in a romance - in his own house, at his work, that he didn't know about.

but then, at the end of the game, in the players tunnel we're you'd usually wait for them, john couldn't help but notice your face light up when you saw his teammate, and the way you squeezed his arm, congratulating matthew on a good game: john was pretty much convinced.

later that evening, him and aryne stood in their on suite, brushing their teeth as they two of them got ready for bed. john spit out his last bit of toothpaste and turned toward his wife.

"have you noticed that matthew and y/n have been...I don't know...extra friendly?"

aryne spit out her own toothpaste and giggled.

"what's so funny?" john asks her. "am I just going crazy? is that why you're laughing?"

"no, no," aryne reassures him, "you've just now noticed that matthew and y/n have been flirting?"

and john is taken aback for a moment and suddenly, anything you and matthew have ever done together, and they way you both speak to one another, always ending up sitting next to one another, hell, even the way you looked at each other...oh. "I guess I have noticed." he says momentarily.

"good for you." aryne rubs some expensive moisturizer on her face.

"are they like...In love?" he asks with a funny look on his face.

"I'm not sure," aryne thinks, "but they are definitely having se-"

"okay! I don't need to know." john says. the two of them make their way into their bed. that makes him think back to about a month ago, when he saw you cooking the in kitchen.

"hey," john says, eyes trained on his cellphone as he walks into the kitchen, back from morning skate.

"hi," you and aryne had said in sync. his wife hovered over the stove, cooking eggs and bacon while you stood at the island, chopping fruit.

he looked up then once he heard his daughters giggle, he smiles as he watches you pass her some fruit, the baby as happy as ever getting attention from her aunt.

but then - "is that matthews shirt?"

you looked up with wide eyes because yes, it was. "oh," you look down at yourself, "yeah, I didn't even realize."

suddenly aryne piped up, "I think i mixed up the laundry. I thought it was a sleep shirt."

if john saw the exchange the two woman gave each other, he didn't say it.

you definitely knew that was his shirt, john is sure if it now. with his arms behind his head, he breathes deep. "why haven't they said anything?"

"what do you mean?"

"like...if their dating, or in love - not just hooking up. why have they kept it a secret?"

"I don't know honey," aryne rubs a hand over his chest and he closes his eyes. "they were probably scared. I mean Matthew probably didn't want you thinking that you've gone out of your way for him, letting him stay here and he repays you by banging your sister -"

"aryne!" john says and she giggled.

"and y/n - she doesn't want to upset you."

"she could never upset me." john says immediately. "If they are dating...well, Matthews a good kid. he's the best possible guy for her - I don't want her to feel like she has to hide it from me."

"you should tell her," aryne flicks off her bedside lamp, letting the room become overcome with darkness. "they're cute - we should let them do their thing."

"yeah, i'll talk to them tomorrow."

the next morning, you and matthew had been cozied up on the couch. any opportunity that the two of you had in the early morning to be cuddly while everybody else was sleeping, you and matthew took.

matthew had been whispering something into your neck, making you squirm and giggle when footsteps were heard bounding down the stairs, making you and matthew scrambled apart just as john rounded the corner.

he had a look on his face you couldn't quite figure out - he almost looked...in pain but also uncomfortable but at the same time happy.

"hey," you start in hesitation, "what's going on."

he shifts awkwardly before moving to sit on the love seat. "you guys can like...continue whatever you were doing. like cuddling or whatever."

you are sure matthews eyes are as wide as yours. "what?" you ask, your tone of voice perfectly depicts your level of shock.

"I know you guys are...doing stuff." he gestures weirdly in between your bodies.

"oh my god." you cover your face. this is like having the birds and the bees talk with your parents - expect it's with your brother and your boyfriend is also there to hear it. "doing stuff? what?" you repeat.

"listen, I'm not mad."

you look up towards john with raised brows. "you're not?" matthew says before you can.

"no, god- " john leaves forward so his elbows rest on his knees, "matthew you are the nicest guy ever. you are great with my kids, and you'd be a great...are you guys like dating or is is strictly just -"

"dating." you say loud and quickly.

"you'd be a great boyfriend, especially to my sister." john continues.

"I didn't want you to think that, I don't know, you've gone out of your way to bring me into your home, and i've repaid you by sneaking around with your sister." matthew says sheepishly. aryne was really on the nose with that one.

"I don't think that." he says immediately and you can feel matthew sigh in relief beside you.

"and y/b, I could never be mad at you. you're an adult and i'm your brother, I don't control you, nobody does. I just wish you didn't feel the need to keep it a secret."

you wanted to cry because you really loved your family. 

"I just didn't want you to treat matthew any differently."

matthew looks at you with a look of confusion. he didn't know that, he just thought you didn't want john to know - not that you were trying to protect him. "really?" he asks you.

"yeah." you whisper.

"I wouldn't of," john says. "i'll still treat you the same." john watches your face relax at his words and it fills him with a nice feeling.

"alright," john says, hitting his knees and standing up like a typical dad, "so you two can get back to cuddling or...whatever, just don't french infront of me."

matthew laughs loud beside you and your mouth drops in shock. "french? who says french. you...old man."

john laughs as he walks away, leaving you and matthew alone once more. almost immediately, matthew wraps you in a hug, pulling you down on the couch.

"this is good, right?" he asks you gently, hand gently tracing your face. his eyes are so soft that you can't help but smile.

"yeah," you say back, letting matthew kiss you gently on the lips.

the sound of four tiny feet come bounding down the stairs, making you pull apart before the kids jump onto the two of you, laughing, begging matthew to turn on Bluey before breakfast. you watch in admiration as he interacts with them, and everything feels good.

—

christmas was approaching- way too fast for you liking. this time of year was only hectic in the Tavares home - that wasn't even including the load of extra work you needed to complete for upload during the small holiday break provided by the NHL.

matthew had the 22nd off (as the team had played their last game the day before) and suggested the two of you head out to do some last minute shopping - which was a relief because in all your work stress, you've barley had time to shop for anybody besides your boyfriend - so immediately you took matthew up on the offer.

the two of you had gotten into matthews car and headed downtown to begin the much anticipated long shopping day - hoping to check off your never ending list of presents.

a few hours after your arrival, matthew had grabbed the back of your neck, directing you in the direction of a hot chocolate stand, because 'you can't christmas shop and not get a warm drink' as he claims.

matthew had pretty much gotten everything he wanted to get for the family (his and yours) as did you, which calmed you down so much compared to your hectic stressed filled past couple days.

matthew had your hand wrapped in his large one, swinging them between your bodies as you made your last walk down the strip. you both sipped your hot chocolate carefully after matthew burned his lip on his, pouting until you kissed it better (you love your big baby).

you came up upon one of your favourite market stores. they always carried to most beautiful, antique looking items and most of the time you ended up loving something in the cute shop - and this time was no exception.

you had gasped slightly, your hand squeezing matthews as a reflex. "oh my god, how amazing." you were face to face with the most beautiful winter snow globe, filled with tiny fake snowflakes and a cute little village - it was right up your alley. "oh I love it."

you could feel matthews front press against your back, hovering over your shoulder to look at the antique. "it's nice." he agrees. matthew tugged your hand, "hey, I think I see Santa if you want to go sit on his lap and ask for it for christmas."

your head snapped back at him so fast your slicked back ponytail almost wiped him in the face. "ha ha, you're so funny."

he smirked in satisfaction at his own joke and tugged you into his side, kissing your temple - ignoring the way you swatted him away, claiming he was going to mess up your makeup.

__

christmas morning

a bunch of tiny knocks on your and matthews bedroom  door makes you groan out, eyes squinting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

a moment later the door opens, revealing the kids in their christmas pyjamas: eyes full of excitement.

"wake up aunt y/n!" jace says, jumping up onto your bed. you sit up, nudging matthew as you rest against the headboard.

"matthew," axton's little voice whispers. "it's christmas."

"hey buddy," he whispers, picking up the blond boy and sitting him on the bed between the two of you.

"santa came!" Jace said excitedly.

"did he?!" you asked, "are you going to show us?"

"yeah!" the boys cheered, they had dragged matthew out of bed and downstairs quicker than you could put your robe on. aryne was waiting by the bedroom door with a cup of coffee, made the way you love it.

"good morning." she hums.

"hi," you say, taking the mug and wrapping your hands around it as the two of you descend down the stairs and into the warmly decorated family room.

"aunt y/n look at all the presents!" the boys say, practically vibrating as they resisted the urge to tear up all the wrapping paper in that very moment.

"wow!," you say with as much enthusiasm the early morning would let you, taking a seat beside matthew who immediately wraps his arm around you, bringing your body into his own. it wasn't long before you dragged a throw blanket over the two of you, cuddling into him tightly.

"alright boys, everyone's here you can start." john says, holding onto his daughter. the kids laughed loudly as they started, and you swear you've never felt excitement or happiness the way you did when wtaching your nephews open gifts.

the four of you helped all the kids open their gifts when needed, which was often because they wanted to play with every new toy they opened (which was so darn cute).

an hour or so of present opening had passed, leaving the kids to entertain themselves with their new toys from santa, while the four of you got to exchange gifts with one another.

you tore open your gift from aryne, opening the white box to reveal a demin jacket with a bunch of leaf decals on it. you knew what it was immediately. "you didn't." you pull out the jacket to look at it fully, the back displaying exactly what you thought it would: Knies 23.

"oh my god," you laughed, "did you know?" your question was directed towards your boyfriend, who held his hands up in surrender.

"my lips are sealed."  he laughed as you hit his chest playfully, letting him kiss your cheek two times quick.

you couldn't help but feel giddy inside, and you bet your bottom dollar anytime you weren't working, you'd be repping your man on your jacket for the whole world to see. "I love it, thank you honey bunny," you give your sister in law a squeeze and she hugs back just as hard.

"alright, mine next," matthew says, handing you a neatly wrapped square box. you raise your brows in suspicion and start to unwrap it. "you didn't wrap this."

you knew him too well, matthew thinks. "just open it - don't jostle it around," he scolds before laughing.

"you're insufferable," you say. you are left with a plain white box, leaving you no option but to gently open the lid and - oh my god. "matthew..." you whisper, gently taking your gift out of its protective styrofoam. "you didn't."

"what is it?" john asks, trying to peek over your shoulder as he bounced baby girl.

"oh, it's beautiful," aryne says as soon as she gets a proper look at the gift, her hand held to her chest.

matthew bought you the snow globe. "the person at the cash wrapped it for me - she insisted. she's a sweet lady," matthew says.

you knew he didn't wrap it. "yeah, beth is a sweetheart."

"of course you know her name," matthew laughs. the four of you laugh at his comment before aryne jumps up, helping one of the boys build a toy, john walking off to grab a bottle for the baby.

you're still staring at the snow globe when matthew looks down at you. he smiles involuntarily, admiring the way you looked so content and happy. "merry christmas," he whispers.

you look him in the eyes and it's just like the first time you saw him. you have the biggest crush on your boyfriend. "merry christmas."

you are so in love.

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[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

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

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

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

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you." 

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

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

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

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

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Channie

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count- 2.5k

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.

For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.

You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!

You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.

You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.

You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.

You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.

To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.

"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"

You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.

After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.

"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.

"Brat."

"You love me."

Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."

You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?

The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?

"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!

Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."

"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.

"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.

"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."

"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.

"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.

You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?

Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.

Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"

What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.

A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

[cheeseceli]

Won't let go

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Prompt: "I swear to God when I come home I'll hold you so close, I'll never let go"

Warnings: Hyunjin is an idol, reader lives in Korea with him (no nationality mentioned)

A/n: you have never seen hyunjin and James Arthur in the same place | join the 1k event!

Lately, Hyunjin has been smiling a lot whenever he's at the airport, just a few hours from home

And he swears he loves his job, he really does, but he also admits he doesn't like everything that comes with it

And one of the things he dislikes was being away from home for so long

Away from you

That's precisely the reason why paparazzi and fans always see him smiling after landing in Korea after a tour or outside promos

Because he's so close from seeing you again

He can barely contain all his excitement

He's always at the front, bodyguards and staff constantly reminding him of walking slowly

And then he enters the car and I almost feel bad for his designated driver

He's often asking how long it will take to reach the destination, what time it is, if the driver can go to some shortcuts, if it's really needed to stop at the gas station...

The driver might as well start speeding just to get rid of him already

Of course, he asked to stop by at your place

It honestly surprised the members how he was able to jump out of the car so fast without tripping like he did

And in less than 5 seconds he was already at your doorstep, knocking at the door unafraid of your neighbours who were already sleeping

And in less than 5 seconds you opened the door

You barely had the time to see him as he hugged you tighter than you thought it was possible

That's how you both spent the following minutes: tears falling from your eyes as you realised how much you missed his warmth and his face buried in the crook of your neck, wishing he could actually merge with you

Those are the moments where no one hears a word from Hyunjin for the next three days or so

The company, the fans and even his members wouldn't know anything about his whereabouts

When he finally comes home to you, the only thing he wants to do is to be around you to try and compensate for all the time he's been away

And if it was up to him, he would never let go

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Awaken Beauty

Thank you for reading <3 don't forget the feedback!

Taglist (open): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[imagines4thefandoms]

Family Reunion

word count: 6.5K

Summary: y/n reluctantly goes to a family reunion that may or may not be a disaster

TW: adoption hate, No y/n used

You were sitting in the living room reading a book when Alfred walked into the manor with the mail. He placed it on the table behind the couch and went into the kitchen to start dinner. Jason came running into the room and jumped on the couch next to you. 

“Hey, mom, whatcha doin’,” he asked, laying his head on your shoulder.

“Just reading,” you answered as you turned the page of your book. Jason snuggled closer to you and let out a sigh. You put your book down and looked over at your son. 

“What's the matter, J,” you asked, placing your book on the table behind you. 

Jason sat up straight and looked at you. He gave you a serious look, which made you worry a little. Jason was one of the least serious of your kids; well, they are all less serious than Damian. “Nothing, just bored,” he said, looking at you with a smile.

“Mom, did the mail come in yet?” Tim yelled, running up from the cave. 

“Yes, Alfred just brought it in,” you replied. 

Tim ran into the living room and searched through the mail. He was so excited that he dropped the rest of the mail on the floor. Your husband walked in and sat down on the couch between you and Jason. 

“Hey honey,” Bruce said, kissing your temple.

“Tim, make sure you pick up your mess,” you said, cuddling into Bruce.

It was moments like these, where Bruce and the boys stayed home that made all the drama of marrying Batman/ Bruce Wayne worth it. Just as Tim came and sat on the chair next to you, Dick and Damian walked in through the front door. Dick walked over to you and kissed your cheek while Damian stood in the living room with a grimace. 

“Grayson, just because I asked a question about your job didn’t mean I wanted to spend the day with you,” he exclaimed. 

Dick went to throw his keys on the table, but they landed on the floor. When we bent down to grab them, he noticed an envelope under the couch. 

“Hey, Mom, there’s mail for you,” he said, handing it over. 

Your name was handwritten on a baby blue envelope. Just from the writing, you knew what was in this piece of mail. Your mother was trying to get you to come to a family reunion, but we were not interested. You loved your family, but there were some people you just didn’t want to talk to anymore. “It's nothing.” You said, placing it on the table and opening your book back up to finish the chapter you were reading when Jason interrupted you. 

“Nothing, Mother, it looks important. It’s handwritten,” Damian said, opening it up. 

Before you could stop him, he started to read the invitation, which you had already gotten about seven times.  Bruce looked over at you and gave you a questioning look as your son finished reading the invitation. 

“Like I said, it's nothing,” you said, getting up from the couch and grabbing the invitation from Damian. 

“Family reunion. That sounds fun, Mom,” Jason said, grabbing the card from your hands. 

“Sure, but not when it’s my family that is reuniting,” you replied, grabbing the invite again. 

This time, before anyone can grab it from you again, you rip it up and throw it in the waste basket in the living room. You knew you probably should have burned it, but you had hope that your sons and husband knew to leave it alone.  You went to your office to do a couple of things for work when you got a call from your mother. 

Hey Sweetie

“Hey, mom. What’s up.”

 Nothing, I just wanted to talk to my daughter.

“I’m not going mom.”

We miss you

“I miss you too, Mom. You know you and Dad are welcome to come visit whenever you want. The kids miss you.”

Sweetheart, please

“Is she going to be there?”

Yes. She’s a part of this family.

“Then just let me know when you and Dad want to come visit.”

It’s not just me who misses you. It's in two weeks you still have time to change your mind.

“Ugh, Mom, if I say I'll think about it, will you stop sending the invitations?”

Yes, only if you consider it

“Ok, Mom, I will consider going to the reunion.”

Great, well, I’m going to let you go and let you get back to work Tell my grand-babies I love them and tell Bruce I said hi.

“Alright, mom. I love you bye.”

Love you too, baby. Bye

You hung up the phone and looked up when you heard a small knock at your office door. Bruce was standing in the doorway, waiting for you to finish your phone call. He walked over and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Mom says hi,” you said, placing your phone on your desk and walking to stand in front of your husband. 

Bruce gave you the face he makes when he wants you to tell him what’s wrong, but he won’t ask. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you told him, placing your head on his chest.

“I didn’t say anything,” he responded, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 

“I would love to see everyone, but every time I’m in the same room with HER, it doesn’t end well. You remember,” you opened up. 

The memory of the last time you had a run-in with your sister. It was before you and Bruce adopted Dick. It was also the last family reunion you went to. The night just went downhill as soon as she walked into the house. It ended with her calling you a gold-digging whore and Bruce having to hold you back from attacking her. 

“Oh, I remember. You were scary,” he said with a smile as he kissed your head. 

“Mom. Scary? Impossible,” Damian said, walking in to check up on you. 

You knew that going to the reunion was a terrible idea. No matter how much you would love to be around everyone again. Bruce looked at you, and you knew whatever you decided, he was going to support you no matter what. 

“Your mother can be very scary,” he responded to Damian but still looked at you. 

“Demon, ask her about the letter,” you heard Jason “whisper” from the hall. 

You laughed and shook your head as you stepped out of Bruce’s warm embrace. Damian tried to act like he had no idea what Jason was saying or that he couldn’t hear his brother from the hall, but you knew better. When you walked past him to go to the door, Damian avoided eye contact and acted innocent. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, Jay,” you said, poking your head out of your office and looking at Jay. 

He quickly stood up and caught your other boys off balance, making them either stumble back or fall on the ground. You motioned with your head to come in while you walked back to your office. 

“Grandma says hi,” you said, sitting on your desk. 

“You talked to grandma,” Dick asked excitingly. 

Just seeing Dick’s reaction, you knew that you had to go for your sons. You looked over to your husband, and he knew what you were going to do. 

“That letter was from Grandma about a family reunion in two weeks,” you explained. “I didn’t say anything about it sooner because last time I was at a family reunion, it didn’t end well.”

“Your mother almost got into a fight,” Bruce explained further as he took out his phone and rearranged his schedule so he could go with you. 

“Mom getting into a fight. I would love to see that,” Jay said, sitting in one of the chairs in front of your desk and putting his feet on your desk. 

“You might jay bird,” you whispered. 

“So, are we going,” Tim asked. 

After taking a deep breath to calm your already anxious mind, you told them yes. You grabbed your phone to call your mother to tell her that you will be attending, so Bruce and the boys left your office. Your mother was super happy that you would be going home. She told you how she wasn’t going to tell anyone, so it would be a big surprise. After you hung up, you were heading back to spend time with your family when you overheard Bruce and the kids talking. 

“I can’t imagine mom getting in a fight,” Dick stated.

“You haven’t seen your mother with her sister,” Bruce responded, taking a sip of his drink.

“Aunt Lilah?” Tim asked.

“No, Sophia.”

“She has another sister,” Jason exclaimed. 

You walked into the living room, and the boys stopped asking questions because they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or angry. You sat down next to your husband and Jason and put on a movie. 

The next two weeks consisted of your mother texting you how excited she was to have you, Bruce, and the kids back home. You also spent those two weeks learning some kind of calming technique Alfred knew in hopes it would help you not go crazy. The night before you left to head back to your hometown, the boys kept talking about how they were excited to see where you grew up and hopefully learn some embarrassing stories about you. 

In the morning, you woke up before Bruce and just watched the love of your life sleep. You trace your name over his chest when you hear a small laugh escape your husband’s throat. Your hands stopped as your eyes met his blue eyes. He grabbed your hand, brought it to his mouth, and placed a small is on the palm. 

“You don’t have to mark me. I'm already your’s,” Bruce said, pulling you onto him. 

“Shut it,” you smacked him. 

The two of you just lay there til Alfred knocked on the door and came in with two cups of coffee and the newspaper. He placed the try on Bruce’s nightstand and opened the curtains before leaving. Bruce handed you your cup, and you just wrapped your hands around the mug, absorbing its warmth. A light kiss on your right shoulder brought you back to reality. 

“Penny for your thought,” Bruce asked, leaving more kisses on your naked shoulders. 

“Wow, only a penny. When did you get so cheap,” you joked, placing your coffee on your nightstand and turning towards your husband. 

He let out a chuckle, pushing you on your back, and hovered over you. “When my wife got so expensive,” he joked, leaving love bites on your neck and collarbone. You slapped his chest at his comment. “I hate you,” you said, pulling him on top of you so you’re being crushed by his weight.

“Sure you do.” Bruce pried himself from your grasp to get ready for the flight. “As much as I would enjoy you staying like that for the trip, it might traumatize the kids,” he joked, staring at your naked form still lying in bed. 

“Or we can just forget the reunion and abandon our kids and just go on another honeymoon,” you suggested as you got out of bed and joined Bruce in the bathroom.

“They would find us,” he replied after giving your idea a moment's thought.

“And whose fault it is that they are great detectives,” you asked, getting into the shower. 

While you and Bruce were taking a shower, Alfred was in the room packing your bags for the trip. Since the boys haven’t seen your parents in a long time, you decided to spend a week at home. The boys were excited to get to spend so much time with their grandparents. 

“Your flight is scheduled to leave in an hour, so I suggest you two hurry up,” Alfred yelled as he left the room. 

“Last time I checked, it's my plane,” Bruce called back as he was helping you dry off. 

“The sooner you leave, the sooner I can find some actual peace,” Alfred replied, causing you to laugh. 

The boys were waiting in the living room with all their bags when you and Bruce finally got dressed. You saw how excited they were for the reunion, and you understood. You come from a giant and mainly loving family. They’ve heard a few stories from your childhood, and you noticed how there was a longing look in their eyes. So, you decided to push past all the drama and try your best to make this the best weekend for your kids. You want them to have a happy, normal family experience. 

“You guys ready to head out,” you asked, interrupting their conversations. 

They all jumped up, grabbed their bags, and ran to the car. You laughed at their antics as you followed them out. During the car ride to the airport, the boys were planning all the things they wanted to do during the week. Bruce pulled you against his side as you watched the kids.

“I brought some of the jokers laughing gas if you need it,” Bruce whispered into your ear.

“I'm gonna need it later, I’m fine now,” you laughed. 

“We can just drop the boys off and go do something just us,” he suggested, kissing the top of your head.

“No,” you exclaimed, jumping up and turning to him.

Bruce looked at you with concern and questioning. “What’s wrong,” he asked. 

“We are all going as a family,” you replied, ignoring his question. 

“Mom,” Dick asked.

“It's nothing, ok. I promise,” you replied, rubbing his back. 

As soon as you got on the plane, your outburst was forgotten by all except Bruce. As soon as the pilot said we were free to roam the plane, Bruce unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you into his lap.

“B, the kids are right there,” you lightly scorned as you tried to get out of his lap.

“As much as I would like to. I’d much rather talk about your outburst in the car.”

“I don’t want them alone around Sophia,” you told him. 

Before he could ask why, you pulled out your phone to show him the family bulletin email chain. You showed him the edition where Sophia announced the birth of her son, Aaron. And her reply to why the title was a new addition to the grandkids instead of the first grandchild. 

“She constantly refuses to acknowledge the boys as family. Because they are not blood, they don’t count,” you explained. 

“Sounds like Damien when he first came to us,” he joked, pulling you closer to him. 

“Yeah, but Damien matured and realized he was wrong. She never has. I’m worried she’s going to open her mouth and ruin their trip,” 

“They’ve heard all that before, especially when the world wants to know if/when we are going to have a baby. But they know the truth.”

“But that’s coming from strangers. This would be from family.”

“Does anyone else think that way?”

“No.”

“Then there should be nothing to worry about,” You relaxed in his arms and rested your head on his shoulder. “But if something does happen, I’ll release the laughing gas, and we can book it out of there.”

You let out a loud laugh, causing everyone to look at you. Bruce buried his face in your neck and just enjoyed the sound of your laughter. He only pulled away when Damien came over and glared at you. 

“Ummi, father, please, do not join the mile-high club while we are right here,” he said with a deadpan look on his face before going back to the video game he was playing with Jason. 

“Oh my god,” you said, trying not to laugh as you looked at your husband. 

“Damien, really,” he asked, turning to look at his youngest. 

“That’s your kid,” you said, getting back into your seat.

“Mine,” he laughed, quickly checking his phone. 

You nodded your head as you took a sip of your drink. The rest of the flight, Bruce did as much work as he could finish before the plane landed, and you read more of your book. When the plane landed, instead of a town car, your mother was standing by her minivan, jumping up and down. 

“She insisted on picking us up,” Bruce explained, helping you down the stairs. 

“Jida,” Damien yelled, jumping over the railing and running over to your mother. Your heart melted at the sight of Damien jumping into your mother’s arms. She spun him around and then put him back on the ground. As soon as she took a step back, Jason wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. 

“Oh my, baby, what are you feeding this one,” your mother laughed, hugging Jason back. 

“Jay, put Granny down before you hurt her,” Tim warned as he started putting the bags in the trunk of the minivan. 

Bruce helped Tim while you tried to greet your mother. Before you could get your hug, Dick stepped between you and stole your hug. “Oh my, look how tall you’ve gotten. Your being safe,” she asked, pushing him back slightly as she looked over him. 

“Yes, Granny, I'm being very careful at work,” he said, pulling her into another hug and kissing her cheek. 

Once he released her, you finally got your hug. “That one worries me all the time,” she whispered in your ear. 

“Me too, but I get texts after his shifts, so I know he is safe.”

“I need those too,” she said, looking at Dick and Jason as they smacked each other on the back of the head. 

“Oh, my favorite son-in-law,” your mother said as she pushed you aside to hug Bruce. 

“Hey, ma,” he said, kissing her cheeks. “You look amazing.”

“You’re already my favorite, no need to suck up,” she joked, slapping his arm. 

Your mother loved Bruce. As soon as you told her you were dating, she warned you to be careful cause of his reputation. But after she met him, she would always say, ‘Don’t do anything stupid to mess that up. I’ll choose him in the breakup.’ Sometimes, she’d just randomly call Bruce, and they would chat for a couple of hours. 

Once all the bags were in the car, Bruce insisted he drive so your mother could relax and catch up with the boys. You sat in the passenger seat so your mother could sit between Tim and Damien. 

While Bruce was driving, he kept one hand on the wheel and the other was holding your hand. You just watched him drive as you listened to the lively conversation in the back of the car. 

“Never thought I’d see THE Bruce Wayne drive a minivan,” you joked, drawing circles on his hand. “I should send Clark a pic so he has an exclusive.”

Bruce squeezed your hand in response. “Don’t make me tell Ma that you’re being mean to me.”

Even though he whispered it, your mother still heard, and she slapped your arm. “Leave my baby alone,” she scorned, gently shaking his shoulder, then she returned to Tim’s story. 

You quickly stuck your tongue out at Bruce, then quickly made sure your mother didn’t notice. When Tim finished his story, your mother leaned forward and told you how the rooms were made so you could stay with her.

“Mom, there is not enough room for all of us.”

“Please, unless you had planned on wasting money on five different hotel rooms, I have enough room. The boys will double up,” she said, playing with Damien’s hair. 

“What about everyone else.”

“I kicked them out. Told them they couldn’t stay the night. Besides, unlike you, everyone else lives close by.”

Deciding against arguing with your mother, you accepted that you were staying at home. When Bruce pulled into the driveway, your father was mowing the lawn. As soon as everyone got out of the car, Dick and Jason went over to your father to mow the lawn for him. 

“They don’t do that at home,” You commented, watching Dick push Jason to the ground and start up the lawn mower.

“Our lawn is too big for a normal lawn mower,” Tim said, getting the bags out of the car. 

“Ah yes, the plight of the rich,” you joked, ruffling Tim’s hair. 

Your mother carried in your small bag and carried it up to your room. Then, she showed Tim and Damien the guest room and Lilah’s room that she made up for them. Tim refused to share a room with Damien, so they went their separate ways. 

“You guys freshen up, and I’ll start dinner,” your mother said, leaving you in your room. 

“Absolutely not. You set everything up for tomorrow. I'm taking us all out for dinner. You just relax. And make sure to utilize the 12 hands you have to help with tomorrow,” Bruce said, holding her hands. 

“You’re too sweet,” she replied, gently patting his cheek. 

“He’s right, Mom. Why is no one here to help.”

“I didn’t ask Lilah 'cause she’s got her hands full with the kids and with Henry being deployed. I asked Sophia, but she said she couldn’t. But now I can put those boys to work. You baby them too much,” she replied, ignoring your look of disappointment. 

“Mom, you are the one that spoils them,” you joke. 

“They are my grandbabies it's my job. Now, why don’t you two hurry up and unpack? I'm ready to eat you out of house and home,” she joked, walking down the hall.

“If those boys couldn’t do that, I doubt you could,” Bruce joked back. 

After dinner and a lot of butt-kissing done by the kids, you and Bruce got ready for bed. You were doing your nighttime routine when Bruce came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.  Bruce took the moisturizer out of your hands and, just held you and stared at you in the mirror. 

“I can feel your tension,” he said, kissing your neck. 

“I'm worried about tomorrow,” you admit. 

“I’ll fake a work emergency if you want.”

“Won’t be as effective since we are staying here.”

He chuckled and placed another kiss on your neck before telling you to hurry up and come to bed. Your mother never changed a single thing in your room, so it looks exactly like it did when you left for college. Same embarrassing posters. Same stuffed animals. Same book. Same twin-sized bed you were supposed to share with your gigantic husband. 

There wasn’t a single inch of room for you to lay next to him. Not that it mattered at home you have a California king yet seem to still sleep on top of each other overnight. You were going to lay on top of Bruce, but he moved, so he was on top. His head was on your chest, and your legs were tangled together. Even though you knew his feet were hanging off the edge, he quickly fell asleep. You, on the other hand, stayed up longer, running your finger through his hair, praying to anything and everything that nothing terrible happens tomorrow.

“Let her sleep some more,” you heard someone whisper before the door closed. 

Since you didn’t feel the 200-pound man on top of you, you figured that Bruce already started his day. You knew you should get up and help, but unlike the rest of your family, you are not accustomed to minimal sleep. But your plan to get more sleep was thwarted by a tiny body getting into the bed and jumping on your stomach. 

“Tete, wake up,” your niece yelled, trying to force your eyes open. 

“Robin,” you heard your husband whisper and pick the little girl off you. 

“It's morning time. Tete needs to wake up Ruce,” she said with her adorable lisp. 

“Tete is very tired.”

“But it's morning.”

“I'll give you candy if you let her sleep more.”

“5 dowars AND candy,” she said with as stern of a voice as a four-year-old can have. 

“You’re just like your aunt,” Bruce said before carrying the little girl out. 

Another 5 minutes passed by before you heard the door open. Someone walked in and sat at the foot of the bed. “I know you're awake, dummy,” your sister Lilah said, slapping your feet. 

“First, your kid jumps on my stomach, then you slap me. Your violence is spreading,” you joke, sitting up to hug your sister. “I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Yeah, I figured mom was super busy and forgot to call me, but imagine my surprise when I find out the prodigal daughter returned.”

Lilah handed you a cup of coffee and climbed into bed next to you. It felt like the old days when you two would sit in your bed and talk about anything and everything. 

“You know I’m surprised you showed up,” she said, gently nudging your side. 

“Me too, but the kids missed Mom, and I can’t just keep hiding,” you admitted. 

“How’s Henry,” you asked, changing the subject before she was mentioned. 

“He’s good. Safe. And excited to hear what happens.” She laughs.

Robin opened the door and ran into the room laughing. Your husband came in after her and lifted her off the ground. 

“You promised,” he said, holding her upside down.

“It's been hours.”

“It's been 7 minutes,” he said, turning her rightsize up. “Oh, morning, sweetie.” He walked over to kiss you while holding a wiggly child. 

“Tete, you sleep forever,” she said, slipping from Bruce’s grasp and getting between you and Lilah. 

You handed your cup to Bruce and attacked Robin with tickles. Robin laughed and cried out for her mom to save her, but Lilah watched and said she should have listened and let Tete sleep. 

“Ruce, save me,” she laughed. 

“I got you, princess,” he said, pulling her from my grasp. “Come one, let's go help with breakfast.” 

Before he left, Bruce looked at you and blew you a kiss. You heard your sister laugh and gently kick you. Lilah caught you up on her life and what Robin has been doing and showed you pictures of baby James, who was snatched from her by your mother as soon as she stepped inside. 

You wanted to stay in bed longer, but the smell of cinnamon rolls filled the house. You and Lilah looked at each other before racing each other down to the kitchen. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” your father greeted, looking up from baby James. 

“Morning, Dad,” you said, kissing his cheek and then making faces at James. 

You took a seat at the dining table, and Robin came to bring you a cinnamon roll drenched in icing. “I made this one for you, Tete.”

The roll had so much icing that when you bit into it, you could’ve sworn that you got a cavity. Your mother came out of the kitchen and plopped down in the chair across from you. She looked exhausted. 

“All the food is prepped we just need to throw it in the oven,” she said, picking at a cinnamon roll.

“Mom, did you wake the kids to help you,” you asked, slightly scorning her. 

“They need their sleep they are growing boys,” she said. 

Before you could scorn her some more, she got up and said she was going to take a nap. Your father came over to you and handed you the baby, and dragged your husband outside to help set up the tables and chairs. 

After everything was set up and you put a couple of dishes in the oven, you brought James to the floor and played with his toys with him. Your kids sat on the couch watching TV while you got up with James every couple of minutes to switch out the dishes.

“How do you do that,” Dick asked, helping you put a dish in the oven.

“I’m a mom. It’s a mom superpower,” she said, closing the oven with her hip and starting the timer. 

“I can take him to make it easier,” he offered, holding his arms out. 

“Im fine, Dick. Besides, Im soaking up all the baby time I can get,” you said, blowing raspberries on James’ arm. 

At noon, people started showing up. First, it was your aunt and uncles, then your cousins. The next thing you knew, the house and backyard were filled with family members. 

“Im going to try and put him down for a quick nap,” Lilah said, taking James from your arms. 

“Okay. You can use my room. I think Damien and Jay are in your old room.”

You tried to find your husband but were suddenly being hugged by someone. “I can’t believe you’re here,” your favorite cousin said, hugging you. 

You turned to face them and gave them a proper hug. They dragged you outside and grabbed a drink. Just chatting with your cousin lifted your spirits, but then you heard Sophia’s voice and could have sworn there was the noise of a record scratch, then she stepped into the backyard. 

Aaron stepped from behind her, and his face lit up when he saw Dick entertaining the kids with his acrobatic skills. He ran to Dick, and luckily your son was done his flips when Aaron latched himself to his left leg. 

“Hey, nugget,” Dick said, picking Aaron up and tossing him up in the air. 

Just as Sophia came up to you, Bruce appeared by your side and kissed your temple. Sophia looked between the two of you and smiled. “Oh, you two are so cute. Im so glad it worked out so far,” she said, hugging you.  

Bruce wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to him. “She can’t get rid of me.” He gave you another kiss on the temple before hugging Sophia. 

“How have you been,” he asked since you couldn’t open your mouth without saying something mean. 

“Amazing, it’s hard with three kids under ten, but it’s so adorable watching them grow up,” she said with a condescending smile. 

“Sophia,” you heard her husband call as he came up behind her with a look of apology. “I was getting the kids out of the car, and you just disappeared.”

“I heard my sister was here I just had to come see her. I haven’t seen her in years,” she pouted. “How are the kids,” she asked, glancing over your shoulder. 

“My kids are great. They are over there with all the other kids,” you said, turning to wave at Damien. 

“Oh right, that’s Bruce’s son. I read about that in the news. So glad you two worked through that issue.”

“Damien is my son, too. And that’s none of your business,” you said, flexing your hand.

“Ummi, I'm hungry,” Damien said with a fake smile, trying to act like a normal 10-year-old. 

“Ummi,” your sister questioned. 

“It's Arabic for mother,” you said, grabbing Damien’s hand and bringing him inside to get him food. As soon as you got inside, you let his hand go and turned to him. “Which one put you up to that,” you asked, hugging him. 

“Father, he gave us signals so we could be a buffer. But I don’t understand why I had to act like an idiotic fool,” he scowled as he crossed his arms. 

“I love you,” you said, ruffling his hair. 

“I love you too, Ummi,” he said, grabbing a plate and grabbing his food. 

With that freedom, you decided to walk around and converse with anyone else. You were talking with weird Uncle Bert when Sophia found you again. Everyone in the room got quiet and just watched the two of you. 

“I’m so proud of you, little sis,” she said, rubbing my arm.

“Whatever for Soph,” you asked, slowly turning to her. 

“For putting on a brave face with Bruce’s affair and accepting the consequence with open arms,” she said with a genuine smile like nothing she just said was wrong. 

“Excuse me,” you exclaimed.  “First off, that consequence is my son, and I’ve already told you to mind your own business in the matter.”

“Sorry, I guess you’re still sensitive about it. I thought you and Bruce were in a good place.”

“We are,” you replied, confused about where she was taking this. 

“Oh good, so when are you finally going to have a kid,” she asked giddily. 

“I have four kids. But I’m not sure when we are going to have a baby,” you replied through your teeth. 

“Yes, of course you have ‘kids,�� but like an actual kid. You're the only one without one,’ she said, playing with a string on her sweater like she didn’t just insult you. 

“Why the air quotes, Sophia,” you asked, clenching your fist. 

“Cause they're not your kids. You didn’t give birth to them. They are not your blood. So they don’t count. 

Outside, Bruce was looking around for you when he saw Sophia’s husband looking around, too. “Scott, where’s your wife,” he asked with a small bit of panic in his voice.

“Hopefully not by your wife saying something very stupid.”

“Excuse me,” they heard you yell. 

“I think I found them,” Scott groaned, rubbing his face in annoyance. 

“Boys code red,” Bruce shouted before going inside. 

When he got to where you were, your face was red and cracking your knuckles. He could tell you were pissed. 

“What the hell do you mean they don’t count,” you asked, fuming. 

“Look, if it means that much to you, I'll let them get into the family photo,” Sophia said, holding her hands up.

“Oh, thank you so much for letting my kids join my family photo,” you said sarcastically. 

“You know how much mom loves her grandkids I just hope she gets some from you.”

“She has 4. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien.”

“Real grandchildren.”

“Ok, that’s it. Just because they are not my blood and I didn’t give birth to those boys doesn’t mean they are not my kids. I love them with every ounce of my being. I came to this for them cause they missed Mom, but you came and opened your mouth, spouting ignorant shit once again. And if Bruce and I have a baby, I'm not going to love those boys any less. Cause I chose to love those boys, and they chose to have me as their mother, and nothing could top the feeling of hearing them call me mom for the first time. Now, please, for once, keep those thoughts to yourself. No one cares about your Etsy shop or how you're trying to start a media business.”

“I was being nice before, but since you want to be a bitch I can too. That little one is a freaking psychopath, and I don’t want him around my kids. The oldest is a terrible influence cause now Aaron wants to join a circus. The other one, Jason, is even worse. What kind of kid fakes his death at 13 years old? Guess you're not that great of a “mother.” I mean, look at his scars, and he’s probably on drugs. The only one I feel sorry for is Tim. He looks so sleep-deprived I'm not sure what you’re doing to that poor kid, but CPS needs to take him and the psycho away from you,”

Before you could attack her for threatening to take your kids away, you heard Damien yell out in pain. You pushed through the crowd that formed and went to him. 

“What’s wrong, dami,” you asked him. 

“I hurt myself outside,” he said with a tear falling down his cheek. 

You saw your mom staying in the kitchen and told her you were taking Dami to the hospital and weren’t coming back til Sophia was gone. When you stepped outside, you watched as Damien popped his shoulder back in place. 

“Damn, mom. I'm a bit scared of you now,” Jason said, scratching his head.

“Good. Not stop using Damien and a buffer, and don’t dislocate his shoulder again to do it.” You said, making sure Damien was okay. 

“Yeah, I could have faked it.”

“Are you okay,” Bruce asked, hugging you. 

“No, I hate her so much,” you said before turning to your boys. “I'm sorry about that. I hope you don’t take what she said to heart.”

“I mean, the demon is a psychopath,” Jason joked, earning him a kick in the shins from Dick. “No, mom. We’ve heard that kind of stuff before it doesn’t bother us cause you are our mom.”

You were hugging all your kids when the front door opened, and Sophia stormed out angry, and Henry followed with their three kids. Sophia sat in the passenger seat while Henry put the kids in the car. 

“I'm so sorry,” Henry said, coming over to say goodbye. “It was nice seeing you two again, and nice meeting your kids.”

“His wife is nuts, but he seems like a cool guy,” Tim said as the car pulled out of the driveway. 

Your mom came out of the house and saw that you guys were still here. “Is he okay,” she asked, looking over Damien. 

“Yeah, he just dislocated his shoulder. We popped it back in. Is Jen still in there so she can give him a quick look over,” you asked.

Your mother nodded and went to grab your cousin, the pediatric doctor. “Mother, I'm fine. I’ve done that hundreds of times,”

“I know, but I would still like a medical professional to check it out since your brother actually hurt you,” you said, glaring at Jason. 

“I was trying to stop a fight.”

Jenny came out and checked Damien’s arm. She said it seemed perfectly fine, but she would prefer to have it x-rayed to double-check, but for now, an ice compress at the joint will do. 

“Come on, boys, I’ve got to show you your mother's baby pictures. Have I ever told you about the time she went missing from home and we found her 3 hours later in the fireplace,” she called from the entryway. 

“Oh no,” you groaned, covering your face.

“No,” Jason laughed as he ran inside to gather some leverage for the next time he was in trouble.

“Fireplace,” Bruce asked, laughing. 

“You might as well go listen to see what you're getting yourself into if we have a baby,” you said, pulling him inside. 

“Why does a mini-you terrify me more than my night job.”

“Cause I was terrible growing up.”

“Was,” he asked, pulling your back towards him. 

“Listen here, Mr. Wayne,” you started to scorn before he pressed his lips to yours. 

“Oh my god Mom you started a fire at 3,” Dick laughed.

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, I'm terrified for our future children.”

“Of baby. You should be terrified of our future children,” you said right before Damien yelled about how you told a police officer your mother kidnapped you cause she wouldn’t get you a toy.  

Bruce laughed and shook his head as the two of you walked into the house. 

[circlebuttons]

Rafe on Love Island

- this is a throw away rant because of how obsessed i am w love island us rn. I feel like Rafe would be a mix of leah and rob with a bit of caine for rule breaking.

-

You get coupled with Rafe in love island on the very first night. When all the guys walked in your eyes were on him immediately, he's taller and broader than everyone else in his sharp grey suit with his white button down being unbuttoned just a tad. The closer he gets you notice that his eyes are already locked on you. His eye contact makes your heart race and the cherry on top is the sly smirk that creeps up on his face when you lean over to the two girls you already befriended in such a short time and quietly inform them that, "Buzzcut is mine." He scoffs out a silent laugh on account of you never look away from him once or block your lips from being able to be read. You're the first person he introduces himself too, holding your hand firmly and probably for a bit too long.

He sits on the couch facing you and during the icebreaker questions you learn that Rafe Cameron is a man who's lived a lot of lives but is now a certified businessman, looking to find his first ever stable relationship. The most important thing you learn is that your feelings of attraction are mutual when he pulls a card that reads "Kiss the islander who you think is a gold digger"

His eyes immediately land you and he clarifies to everyone that he's picking you not because he thinks your a gold digger, but because he'd rather have you be his sugar baby, it's all about perspective at the end of the day.

"You can take all my money" he mumbles before kissing you gently at first with a coy hand on your neck, but you're the one to deepen it and he follows your lead immediately before you break apart, softly saying, "Nice to meet you" while using your finger to wipe the rouge lip combo that you both are now wearing.

There's no doubt in your mind when picking Rafe to couple up with. After the coupling Rafe is on your heels following you like a puppy to an area of couches where you're meant to get to know each other a bit better before sharing a bed. There he asks a lot more questions about yourself, hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth. You eventually leave to go get ready for bed and he reluctantly separates from you, being the first one under the covers laying awake with bright eyes when you climb in on the other side of him. "Courtesy pillow?" he asks looking at you cautiously. "Not unless you need it, I'll behave for the first night" you smirk at him before turning to your side and getting comfortable and little do you know how long he stares at the ceiling replaying every event from today, avoiding reminiscing on the kiss to avoid becoming to worked up, but worked up nonetheless because he feels insane for falling for a girl this fast into the game.

That morning Rafe wakes up with a smile on his face for the first time in ages and he wakes up like that everyday in the villa because no matter what it's always you. He's nothing short of obsessed with you, just as much as you are him, but the two of you being head over heels doesn't make for good tv until Rafe starts playing more defensively. The first male bombshells that get added to the villa get nothing but glares from him as they get way to comfortable with you in the games and attempt to pull you for chats while you're literally right next to him. Production had made it clear that it was off limits to physically fight, so Rafe had to settle for pulling in other guys for secret "chats" instead where he'd just loom over them and make sure it was understood you were happy being coupled with him.

Production would have to step in again to remind rafe that it was also against the rules to hinder filming in anyway meaning saying blunt no's when another girl tries to pull him or turning his head when the objective of a game is to kiss. It unexpectedly makes better tv when Rafe starts his malicious compliance as he sits either blank or stank faced and awkwardly silent in one on one chats with girls who insist on talking with him and in challenges the cameras capture the disgusted tight lipped faces he makes when he's forced to kiss someone else. You feel the same way he does, you're a bit more complacent with production and don't mind participating. It bothers Rafe sure, but at the end of the day it fuels him seeing you kiss another islander and knowing that he's ten times better than any of these guys will ever be. You and Rafe discussed that you have to do what you have to do for tv, but outside of mini games there was to be exclusivity. Exclusive is a word you use a lot, waiting until the outside to be a real couple.

Although what you don't wait for is having sex in the villa after finding out all the guys left for casa amor. Hearing that Rafe was the only guy to refuse not only made you proud, but surprisingly horny too. Making out at night or even grinding on each other wasn't foreign to either one of you, it's when your hand drifts into Rafe's waistband that he shoots up to flip you under him, eager to finally have all of you. After that night the two of you sneak around fucking like absolute bunnies. You protest weakly every time he starts kissing on your neck, knowing what's about to to happen, mumbling "Fuck me, my moms watching" before you the two of you duck under covers and have the best sex of your lives.