#OH COME ON IT JUST TRAVELED TO THE OTHER SIDE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bratbarzal · 2 days ago

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Let It Happen (LH43) 3/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

>PART ONE< / >PART TWO<

I'll spare you from everything, if you would still have me, I'll be waiting all my life

General Warnings: pining and longing and fluff galore!!! I think maybe sexual references but who remembers atp. angst (slut shaming, mentions of past relationships and I can't think of a better way to say daddy issues we've all been there)

A/N: we did it, Joe!!!! desktop tumblr really didn't want this to happen!!! I can't believe I finished this!! thank you guys so much for reading, and liking, and messaging me and reblogging and all the commentary, and all the love!!! I appreciate it so much!!

if there is a crossover of readers of on your side and readers of this fic (first of all ily) there is a little oys easter egg in here!! did I think through the logistics of this being set in the same universe? no. did I have fun anyway? yes. I fell in love with writing Luke in that fic so it was only right for me to add it in here!!

Happy New Year to everyone, thank you for reading my work!! 2024 was the year I finally plucked up the courage to write all my random thoughts down and the fact that it spiralled into this blows my mind a bit, but I'm grateful to be here!!

You can distinctly remember the first time you had properly taken notice of Luke Hughes, and it wasn’t back in the restaurant at the club like he probably thinks.

It had been early November, in your freshman year.

Ellie had finally convinced you to join her at one of the games at Yost, and you were bundled up in a coat two sizes too big, the only thing you had remotely close to team colours, and the only thing likely to keep you warm enough to tolerate a whole game and warm-ups.

You were watching the boys skate around, and he had caught your eye in an instant.

“Who’s that one?” You had asked, pointing down to where number 43 was reaching out awkwardly to sweep up pucks with his stick. You could see the soft brown curls peaking out the back of his helmet from all the way in the stands, and his height made it unmistakable to realise that you recognised him.

He had come up to you at a Halloween party the week before, and if you hadn’t been so preoccupied by the fact that your only-just-ex boyfriend at the time was in the same room, his tongue down another girl’s throat, you might have been endeared by the boy in the dog costume.

Friendly smile, boyishly handsome features and warm eyes that under any other circumstances might have made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t the first time you had seen him - you vaguely remembered the gift basket, and you knew he was in a couple of your classes, but you had never really spared him more than a fleeting glance before that party.

As soon as he had noticed your teary eyes upon approach, his demeanour had changed in an instant, and where anyone else might have backed off, might have been uncomfortable or deterred, done a u-turn and given up on his mission to approach, his expression had softened - worried and caring in a way that made your throat go dry, and you had to dash off to the nearest bathroom to splash your tears away.

“That’s Luke,” Ellie had told you, “Luke Hughes, Jack’s brother.”

“Oh,” You had pouted, disappointed. Jack had made it painfully obvious that he wasn’t your biggest fan the first time you had met him, and if you’re honest, you were hardly a great admirer of his, either.

Ellie had noticed your expression, had nudged you with her elbow until you took your eyes off of the figure on the ice, and had narrowed her eyes right at you. “Why?”

“He’s in a couple of my classes, is all,” you shrugged, eyes travelling back and finding him in an instant.

“Luke’s cool. You’d eat him alive, though, probably get bored within a week.”

“I wasn’t thinking about him like that,” you frowned, watching him skate around the ice with the grace and enthusiasm of a clumsy puppy dog. Cute. “Just curious.”

“He’s waaaay too nice for you,” she scoffed, and you had tried to swallow down the pang of offence you had felt, knowing she had very little of your past to compare him to. The two of you had only been roommates for a couple of months at that point, and she had only ever seen you interested in your ex. “He’s also kind of a like a little brother to me. Dorky and annoying, but I’m very protective of him.”

You had bit your tongue at how patronising that had sounded, knowing Ellie was one of the youngest people of your freshman class - a July baby - and Luke might even have been older than her.

“Like I said, just curious.”

You had noticed Luke a lot more after that, though.

A quiet, recurring presence.

A seat behind you in business comms, a figure against the wall in the corner of the room at different parties, on posters that lined the walls and the perimeter of Yost Arena, in articles you edited for extra credit in the Michigan Daily.

You had even made small efforts to get him to talk to you - never being the type to make the first move, yourself - started talking to his friends, some of the guys on the hockey team, had made sure his name was on the list for your sorority parties, you’d even dropped your pen once in class, and he’d just handed it back over with a soft smile, never uttering a word.

You wouldn’t call it a crush, but it was somewhere around the borderline of that - especially looking back after the summer you shared with him.

And you think, in retrospect, that if he’d have ever made a move, would have spoken to you even just once after the incident at the Halloween party, you probably would have developed one.

You hate to admit it, now, but he had been right all those weeks ago in the restaurant.

He’s kind of inevitable like that.

By the time he disappeared in your sophomore year that little spark of something had mostly fizzled out, but it didn’t entirely stop you unintentionally keeping tabs. Stats that cropped up on the sports channels, articles in the paper, posts on your instagram feed.

And you don’t know what you would call it, the way he kind of stuck with you, but when you’d seen him in that booth in the beginning of summer - when he’d spoken to you in full sentences, had met your eye and held contact in a way that sucked you in like a vacuum - you kind of felt that spark reignite.

The boy you almost, kind of, could have known, once upon a time, finally making the effort to get to know you.

And Luke Hughes is persistent. You have a detached admiration for just how much. He pushes, and he presses, and he perseveres until all your resolve is gone - resolve you’ve spent years mastering, with quick wit and snark protecting your heart from anyone who dares to take aim for it.

But that detachment is waining.

Especially as you lay on your front on your childhood bed, the NHL awards playing on the TV in your room back at your mom’s house, and you try to busy your hands with the crotchet kit you had picked up from the mall before you came home for a couple of days.

Your admiration is blooming and blossoming in the depths of your stomach into something intricate and uncontrollable.

And it has nothing to do with his name, his career, the award he is nominated for.

It’s just him.

Larger than life on your TV screen, but it still doesn’t capture him in his entirety, and you think for the first time that you miss him. You miss movies in his bed, you miss watching him from the passenger seat of his BMW, the sun shining from the window beside him, illuminating his profile until you burn from the glare. You miss his stupid jokes and his teasing smiles, and you miss the warmth in your cheeks when he looks your way.

And it’s only been like 2 days.

You miss Luke Hughes.

You kind of think you missed him before he even left.

You might have even missed him before you knew him, but that would be crazy, right?

Maybe he makes you crazy.

Maybe you need this week to recuperate, to attempt to build those walls back up before they’re damaged beyond repair.

Luke hadn’t given much thought to missing you before he and his brothers left for Vegas. He’d been so caught up, internally, about his and Quinn’s nominations, that he had thought it would continue to distract him the whole time they had been out there, but boy was he wrong.

All he remembers about his trip is thinking of you, and when the boys got back, and you had been visiting your mom for the weekend, all he could do was think of you more.

He thought of you when they sat at the table for dinner, and your place across from his was empty. He thought of you when he watched movies alone, thought of texting you some sort of commentary as he worked his way through the list of rom-coms you had given him, but you hadn’t texted him yet, so he gave up quickly on that idea.

He thought of you in bed, thought of the last time the two of you had been in there, together, and if he’s honest, he thinks of that almost all the time. Of messy kisses, wandering hands, and connection so deep he doesn’t think it will ever fizzle out.

And when he finally sees you again, he thinks he might have to get Quinn to source some sort of defibrillator for the house, because he swears his heart stops beating.

You poke your head into his bedroom, a shy smile on your face, and your bag is still on your shoulder, which means he had been your first stop, before you’d even gone to drop your things in yours and Ellie’s room.

He sees you in the reflection of his mirror, and turns immediately, clumsy fingers releasing the tie he’s been struggling to get right for a couple minutes, and steps toward you before he can even begin to tell himself not to seem so eager.

��You’re back!” He grins, and when your face lights up in return, he can hardly find it in himself to care anymore how down bad he comes across.

“Yeah,” you breathe, stepping into the room, discarding your bag by the door and shuffling toward him. “You didn’t have get all dolled up for my return.”

You reach to take both sides of the tie into your hands, and he feels himself go warm all over at the mere proximity of you after so long apart.

“It’s my cousin’s wedding,” he tells you as you start to knot the tie, knuckles brushing slightly across his chest until he’s holding his breath, lungs expanding so that he feels your touch a little more. “They’re having their reception at the club, later, you should come down.”

“You’re asking me to your cousin’s wedding?”

“Not like that,” he chuckles nervously as he looks down at you, eyes focused on the task at hand. “Just, haven’t seen you in a week, wouldn’t want to leave you here alone, it could be fun.”

Not to mention the fact he’s been watching the door for the past two days while he’s been home, waiting for you to get back and hoping it would be before the event, and he could figure out some way to ask you.

“You can’t just invite a random person to your cousin’s wedding reception, Luke.”

“She said I could!” He reasons, frowning when you raise a brow at him. “Not a random person, she said I could bring a friend.” He grasps gently at your hands as they straighten the fabric, halting your movements. “We’re friends, right?”

“If you say so.”

That wasn’t a no, he thinks, courage building within him in such a way that he starts to buzz with it. That would definitely have been a flat out no, before.

“You’d be doing me a favour.” He bargains, still holding your hands against his chest. “Quinn and Jack are bringing Josh and Turcs, I’d be like a fifth wheel,”

“So what you’re telling me is that you have no other friends?”

“Sure, if that’s what tugs at your heartstrings.” He has plenty of friends he could ask. Eddy, Duker, Luca - they’re all in town. None of them would look as pretty in a dress as you would, though. He wants to say there’s no chance of any of them kissing him after a few cocktails, but that would probably be a lie. “C’mon, they’re not gonna be checking IDs at the bar,” he wiggles his eyebrows in an attempt to convince you, “The free bar.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a wedding,”

“What about that blue dress you wore to the formal last year?”

He remembers his throat going dry at just a picture - frosty baby blue silk against glowing skin, hair falling past your shoulders, the prettiest smile he’s ever seen in every photo.

And that is where misplaced courage gets him, he thinks. Letting slip that he has been creeping on your Instagram like some deranged stalker, because where else would he have seen you in that dress? He’d been in Jersey, by then. Scrolling down his timeline and swiping at every photo dump in what he didn’t even realise at the time was an obvious attempt to catch a glimpse of you.

Idiot.

“That was Ellie’s dress. I think she gave it to the Goodwill or something.” You frown, barely even picking up on his slip - unaware to the point that his heart rate can level back out to normalcy.

“You’ve got time to go shopping, you could get another,” he shrugs, reaching into the pocket of his pants. “Here, take my card.”

“Gee, thanks, Daddy Warbucks,” you push at his hand when he attempts to give it to you.

“I’m not adopting you. I’m more like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.”

“Are you implying I’m a prostitute?”

“No,” he scoffs, only because, unintentionally, he totally was, and now he can’t get the picture out of his head - you in thigh high boots, legs for days stood out of the blue skirt, and the white top with the cutouts, soft summer skin he’s been missing the touch of peaking through - and he starts to wonder if that would be too much too soon to ask of you; to dress up for him like that. Maybe for halloween, if the two of you have progressed past whatever this is, by then. Keep dreaming, Hughes, he can already hear you saying. “More like a sugar baby.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“I’m trying to do something nice for you.”

“You don’t have to buy me things for me to like you.” You pout, and his own lips curl up at your defensiveness - so eager to prove yourself to him over something he isn’t even actually pressing.

“Because you like me already?” He can’t help himself, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to push, push, push at your buttons until you practically malfunction - craving you in whatever disoriented state it was that he had seen you in last, pliant and willing and crumbling so nicely for him to scoop up and piece back together.

He shouldn’t want that - want to have to hold you in place, that is, not really - but he does. He wants to be the one that gets you like that. The only one.

“What time’s the reception?”

That should also have been a flat out no.

Interesting.

You give in so easily, then, to the point where Luke gets giddy, letting you know when and where he wants you - always and anywhere, if he’s honest - and you roll your eyes as you agree, but you stay right in front of him long after you’ve finished with his tie, and he’s so tempted to kiss you that he’s buzzing with excitement.

He sneaks a kiss to the corner of your mouth - quick enough that you don’t push him away, or make any sort of comment about it, and darts down the stairs at Quinn’s calls for him, leaving you to figure out whatever it is you need to do to be ready for later.

And he thanks his lucky stars that later comes before he has the chance to really dwell on it. His day passes in a blur, the ceremony over in a flash, family photos taken before he even realises he doesn’t need to force a cheesy smile, and only brief moments spared over the course of the early afternoon to think about the things he’s lacking.

As he sits in the church between his brothers, he realises that he wants to be sitting with an arm slung around you and a hand in your lap - your fingers swirling absentminded shapes into his palm as the two of you watch the ceremony side by side. Wants to look down at you staring up the aisle in bewilderment, a soft flush to your cheeks, a dopey grin on your face and a far-off look in your eyes. Wants to mutter stupid jokes in your ear and watch you twist your lips to bite back a giveaway smile.

As he rides over to the club in the back of Quinn’s car, sandwiched between Alex and Josh with his brothers up front, he thinks he’d kill to have you in his lap - as illegal as that may be, but it’s only 5 minutes, and he’d make sure you were safe with an arm curled around your waist.

And when he’s waiting in the reception hall at the club, the late afternoon ticking into early evening, hearing speeches about falling in love and finding your person, he wants you in the seat beside him. Wants to rest his arm on the back of your chair, play with loose strands of your hair or stroke soft fingertips against your warm skin, and press gentle kisses into your temple.

It’s alarming how quick these thoughts consume him - his college years spent pining, his summer spent basking in whatever attention you choose to give him - and he can’t help but let himself be carried away with the hope of it all, that maybe he is wearing you down enough to give in to such thoughts.

Especially when he sees you walking in, and he swears the world has started moving in slow motion like a scene fresh out of one of those rom-coms you keep trying to subject him to.

His legs stretch without any instruction from his brain, pushing himself up onto his feet until he can make his way over and meet you halfway.

Your eyes light up and your hand lifts in a nervous wave as you start heading straight for him, the action causing the thin spaghetti strap of your dress to fall down your shoulder.

“Hey,” he breathes out, in what feels like relief, mouth breaking out into a dreamy grin until you’re right in front of him.

“Sorry I’m a little late, it took me forever to find a dress, and then my hair wouldn’t go right, and then the Uber took every back road known to man despite me literally telling him,” Luke reaches to readjust the fallen strap as you talk, fingers trailing ever so slightly against the soft skin of your shoulder, “That I knew a quicker way, and then we ended up at those lights over on Palmer for like 10 minutes, I think I was in that car so long I’m all crinkly.”

His eyes drop slowly down your figure, the silky fabric clinging to your curves in all the right spots, the soft yellow a perfect match to the tie around his neck. “You’re beautiful,” he reassures you with ease, cheeks flushing ever so slightly when your eyes meet his - but he’s used to that, by now, the way his head goes hot when you look at him. “I was gonna get a drink, do you want one?”

He extends his hand out to you in invitation before you even nod in response, and when your fingers slide between his, the heat that is swirling around his head and face starts to spread down, past his neck, into his chest, settling there as the two of you make your way over to the bar.

This last week without you has been hell.

Sat in his hotel room in Vegas, checking his phone for any sort of update - a text, an instagram post, a story - and wondering if that night before he had left had been playing on your mind the same way it had on his.

Soft, slow kisses pressed into reciprocated lips, hands memorising every inch of each other’s bodies, desperate but intentional movements into one another. It was hardly his first time, but God, had it felt like it. It was definitely the first time he had ever felt anything that deep for another person - felt so connected, so attached.

And, despite the lingering insecurity that he thinks he might always feel when it comes to you, he knew you felt the same.

You had told him in the simplest terms - you wanted him - but you had shown him so much more. Eyes stuck on his as he moved against you, foreheads pressed together, lips seeking his at every given opportunity, nails scratching at the broad expanse of his shoulders when he had taken the lead and flipped the two of you over.

Gasps and moans, pleading and pining, begging and singing for him as you came undone for the first, second and third time.

He doesn’t know how you can possibly even try to carry on pretending you don’t feel even an ounce of the infatuation he does.

Not when you look at him the way you do, eyes sparkling and wanting. Not when he had spent the past week pressing his fingertips into the bruises you had kissed again into the lowest part his stomach like that had become your spot, hoping he could aggravate them enough to linger until you could make some more.

Not when, even though the two of you have been stood at the bar now for a good few minutes, you haven’t made any efforts to take your fingers from where his are playing with them between the two of you.

“You never answered my question, earlier,” he hums as the two of you wait for your drinks.

“You talk so much, Hughes, you’re gonna have to remind me which question that was.”

“Did you miss me?” His head tilts with curiosity as he watches the hesitation cross your features, lashes fluttering as you look up at him with your lips pressed together to keep them from spluttering out the truth. “I missed you.” He admits, in the hopes that expressing his candour might elicit the same in you.

“I’m surprised you found the time, you looked very occupied on your brothers’ stories.” Bingo.

“You been keeping tabs on me?” The smirk that accompanies the question is instinctual, and he manages to catch the slight shift in your demeanour before you can retreat, closing his fingers around your hand before you can pull it away.

“No,” you scoff, and when you pull insistently for him to release your hand, the strap of your dress falls loose down your arm again, Luke’s eyes following before he fixes it for you once more. “Just stumbled across some pictures, I guess,”

“Yeah, you just tripped and fell into stalking me?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t doing the same, I saw those little 3 dots come up so often I was starting to think you were typing up the entirety of War and Peace.”

Which means you’d been lingering in your message thread with him, too. Gotcha.

“You know, the world won’t end if you just admit you missed me.”

“Fine.” It slips out before you know what you’re saying, eyes widening like a deer in the headlights as you realise you’ve already given in. “I missed you.”

He smiles, but doesn’t press, and it’s a smile that lingers as the two of you just look at each other, his eyes drifting down to watch your lips twist and press together, biting back whatever insult or chirp you’re just dying to throw his way to cover up. He waits for it to come, but loves that it doesn’t, and loves even more that you’re holding onto the moment as much as he is.

“Do you wanna dance?” Luke asks a while later, once the two of you have gulped down a couple of drinks, have sat with the others for a little, and he’s watched you watch the dance floor with a yearning gaze.

Your eyes meet his after he poses the question, a confidence in his demeanour that has you crumbling immediately.

You nod, allowing him to guide you over to where a few other couples are swaying on the dance floor, and you let him guide you into his arms, one hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder.

It should be awkward, you think, remembering back on all the times you’ve tried this before. School dances and proms, clumsily shuffling and trying to avoid being stomped on by your partner’s feet - but the two of you move with ease, and you’d like to think it’s because his body knows yours by now.

“This is so weird,” you mutter, eyes cast down to watch his feet move in his fancy Oxford shoes, a soft flush to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” He asks, nerves heightening as he stiffens like he’s waiting for you to let him go - to step away and cut this short like it doesn’t make you feel the same way.

“Slow dancing is for old folk like war veterans and millennials.” Your lips twist as your eyes meet his, and his lips turn up into a slow smile, a deep, melodic chuckle following closely behind.

“If you’d rather bump’n'grind on me, I get it,” he smirks.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scoff back, twitching to shake the hair from your shoulder, assuming that’s what is causing the shivers currently shooting down your spine, and not the large, possessive hand resting in the dip of your waist.

“Y’know, I’ve realised something about you lately,” he starts, voice low as he leans in, angling into your exposed neck and stopping his lips within mere inches of your ear, “You have a tell.”

“A tell?” You turn, brow raised as your gaze meets his, faces close enough that you can feel the soft pants of his breath on your skin.

“For when you’re enjoying yourself more than you think you should be,” he hums, his eyes fluttering a little as they drop to watch your mouth, the swipe of your tongue wetting your lower lip. “You call me an idiot,” his hand on your waist squeezes ever so slightly, your back arching a little into his touch, “Or stupid,” he uses his other hand, the one clutching at yours, to pull you closer, “Or dumb, or a dork.”

You can feel your heart thudding at the call-out, beating in time to the music, in time to the way your bodies sway together, creating it’s own rhythm for the two of you to dance to.

“Maybe you’re just a stupid, dumb, dorky idiot.” You squeak out, immediately hating the way the words taste in your mouth, your face souring and eyes narrowing in deliberation. There’s no way that was at all convincing, and the smirk that tugs up his lips is all you need to know he sees right through you.

“Maybe,” he humours you, anyway. “And yet, you can’t get enough of me.”

“A smug dorky idiot.” You correct yourself, cutting out stupid and dumb, the sharpness of those words cutting at your tongue like a knife.

The pointlessness of such discussion almost waters down the exhilaration you feel at being this close to him, in public, nonetheless, where literally anyone else could call you out on your growing tolerance of Luke, could connect the dots regarding all the time the two of you have been spending together and wave the evidence of your growing affection like a chequered flag for all to see.

This definitely feels like you’re crossing the finish line.

And, of course, it’s Jack who does the honours, primed all night to find some way to get between you and Luke upon your arrival, stumbling up to the two of you at the end of the song you’re swaying to and laying a heavy palm on your shoulder.

“Isn’t this cosy?”

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke scowls before you get the chance, a pointed glare directed towards his brother, the palming grip at your waist growing faint as you try to wedge a little distance between the two of you, fighting a losing battle with your instinct to run and hide.

“I need to talk to your girlfriend.”

“I’m not his-,”

“She’s not my-,”

The two of you speak simultaneously, and despite the fact that you were saying the exact same thing, him saying it kind of dampens your mood, putting a good couple of steps between you and Luke with your arms crossing over your chest as you look toward his brother.

“Whatever. Can I borrow her for a couple minutes?”

“I’m not property, Jack, you can ask me directly.”

“Please can we talk? Alone?”

“Let’s go outside,” you huff, storming off before he has the chance to say anything else and making it all the way outside before he speaks again.

“Sorry for interrupting, you and Luke looked kind of cute-,”

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I said you were messing him around, and that you were toxic.”

You frown at him, watching as he diverts his gaze to the ground, nervously shuffling on his feet and fingers fidgeting with the cuffs on his shirt.

“I’m sorry for all the things I said and did at that party, I didn’t mean them, I was just drunk and upset. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

You chew nervously on the inside of your cheeks as he talks, arms wrapped around yourself to shield from the brisk night air, and you watch as Jack starts to unravel before your very eyes.

For as long as you’ve known Ellie, for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him as anything less than cool, calm and collected - it’s kind of the main thing that grinds your gears about him if your honest, the fact that he never seems real. Like he’s putting on some sort of persona to seem like he has all his shit together, when you know he doesn’t.

“I really like Ellie, you know,” he sighs, and you scoff, because of course you know that. “And I was blaming you for putting this wedge between us when it’s really me that’s been fucking up.” You know that, too. “I’ve been thinking about her this past week, and I really wanna pull myself together and finally do something about it. Stop being such an idiot.”

You bite your tongue from questioning the reality of that. He’ll always be an idiot, you think, but that’s best left unspoken. It’s not even personal to him, that’s just part of being a man.

“She likes you too,” You tell him instead, despite the fact that it goes against all sorts of girl code to do so. You’re doing them both a favour, and the universe should really just let you off, you feel. “I don’t know why either of you have wasted so much time when you’ve both felt the same way all along.”

“You really think she’d say yes if I asked her out?”

“I do,” you shrug, “And it doesn’t need to be done on some romantic boat trip or some crazy elaborate scheme, you should just ask her when she gets back next week. Like as soon as she comes through the door, it will save us all a headache.”

“You sound like Luke.”

“Yeah, well, he’s rubbing off on me, I guess.”

“I don’t need to hear what the two of you get up to when you’re alone, that’s my little brother.”

You reach over and shove at his arm, and for the first time ever, when your eyes meet his, neither of them are narrowed. He’s smiling, and you’re smiling too, and it feels a little like a weight has been lifted from your chest, fresh air filling your lungs.

“Let’s go back inside, Luke’s probably thinking we’ve killed each other.”

“I’m just gonna take a second, it’s kinda stuffy in there.”

Jack nods, before making his way back to the reception, and you make your way over to the fountain, heels working through the gravel until you take a seat on the side.

It’s a couple of minutes before you hear footsteps, and before you see the fancy oxfords come into your view, eyes roaming up the long, lean body of the boy who has your brain running marathons.

When your eyes meet, his gaze is warm, and it feels like he can see right through you. Like he’s looking into the depths of your mind, holding a big cheesy sign as he waits at the finish line for your thoughts to come to an end.

He sits wordlessly beside you, his knees knocking against yours, and waits for you to speak - although the silence doesn’t feel awkward, or forced. He waits, patiently and understandingly, and you feel like he’s giving you the time to figure out what you want to say.

It feels monumental, this moment, like you’re teetering on the edge of something real and honest for the first time in a while.

“The other week, when we,” your voice feels heavy, thick at the back of your throat, “You know,”

“I was strictly advised to forget about it, so no, I don’t know,” he teases, and you’re kind of thankful that he’s trying to ease the tension you’re building for yourself. “But if you wanna jog my memory.” You shove lightly at his shoulder. “I’m kidding. What about it?”

“I’ve never really done that before?”

“What, snuck a guy up to his room in the middle of a house party and rocked his world?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You scoff, smiling to yourself, despite the weight of all that you’re about to admit to him. “I’ve only ever slept with one other guy, and he wasn’t very nice about it after, so I just,” you frown, “Don’t really do it.”

“You don’t-,” he frowns too, you can see it from your peripheral, eyes till on the hands fidgeting in your lap, “But I thought-,” You look over and meet his eyes, brows furrowed and lips parted in confusion. “What?”

“The first guy, Jamie,” you start, twisting to face him, knees knocking once more. “We started talking in the summer before my freshman year, got to know each other ‘cause he lived one town over from me and he’d come into work all the time, and then when I started college he was a sophomore, and he was the first guy to ever take, like, a serious interest in me. And we had a lot in common, he was on the soccer team, we grew up in the same area, we got on really well, it was the first time I ever really felt connected to anyone like that. But I’d never done anything before, so I wanted to take things slow,”

Jamie Reeves. Captain of the University of Michigan Soccer Team until he tore his ACL at the end of his last year, ruining all dreams of playing in the MLS, like it was entirely achievable for a player of his caliber anyway. You had been infatuated by him, though. The kind of infatuation that a younger you might have doodled little hearts around his name in all your notebooks.

And then he turned out to be a complete leech.

“Please don’t tell me he rushed you into it.” Luke straightens his posture, reaching to place his hand over yours in your lap, the touch immediately comforting, and his concern even more so.

“No. Not exactly.” You sigh, hating how dramatic you feel about the whole thing. “We went on dates, and things were going really well, so I figured I trusted him enough to be my first, then after we had sex he just went really off. He wouldn’t take me out anymore, wasn’t putting any effort in. And then people started asking me all these questions about him, and what we did, and I realised he was going around telling everyone all the details, like I was just some conquest he could tick off to the boys on the team.” You remember how ashamed you had felt, eyes on you in every corridor, whispers about you in every class. You couldn’t leave your dorm without someone muttering some obscene comment about you, and you just felt awful. “Every time one of them saw me they’d make all these dumb comments, and I just felt dirty all the time, like I’d done something wrong. Then I went to a party at Pike, the one at Halloween,” The party that Luke had approached you for the first time since you met, and you had stormed off in tears - not due to him at all, but due to the fact you had just seen Jamie sticking his tongue down someone else’s throat, mere days after you had seen him last. “And he was all over one of the girls on the field hockey team, didn’t even look my way again after that, not that I really wanted him to.”

“You haven’t been with anyone since?”

You shake your head. “Doesn’t stop people saying I have, though. I tried dating a couple times, but it always ended up the same way, rumours being spread about me sleeping around and being easy. And it’s so dumb, ‘cause it’s like I trusted one guy, and somehow it keeps backfiring on me.” You pay no mind, for the first time in a long time, to the crack in your voice as you say it, no longer afraid of showing any hint of vulnerability. Not to Luke. You need to get this out - get it out of the way, once and for all, so you can move past it. Move on, even, with someone you hope won’t treat you the same.

“Does that mean you trusted me?”

You try not to think too hard about all the times the two of you have shared any level of intimacy - the physical touch mostly initiated by you, and it’s hardly ever on a whim. You think a lot about Luke, if you’re honest. About how he’s honest, and he sticks by his word when he promises not to tell anyone anything. How he always tries to make you laugh or smile, even if it’s something stupid. He isn’t afraid to embarrass himself with you, isn’t afraid to give you power, to let you take the lead. And even though sometimes he jokes otherwise, the times you hang out, he has no ulterior motives. He likes talking to you, likes watching movies with you, likes meeting your eye in a crowded room and giving you one of those smiles that have started to make your heart stutter with something unidentifiable.

“I guess so.” Your shoulder lifts in a nonchalant shrug, your words anything, but. “I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it since and I can’t explain why it happened but I feel like you and me are-,”

Connected? Compatible?

You know what he would say you are. You don’t know if you’re there, yet.There are so many things the two of you have become over the past few weeks, so many things you’ve wanted to be for longer than you even realised, so many things you’re afraid to say.

“I feel like out of everyone, you’d have no reason to lie to me. Or about me.”

“I wouldn’t. I didn’t know all that stuff,” he frowns, and it seems like his mind only just makes sense of all the times you threatened him after the fact, making sure he wouldn’t tell anyone that the two of you kissed, or hung out alone in an intimate space and maybe potentially enjoyed yourselves. He had thought you were ashamed of it - but all this time, you’ve been protective. Of yourself, of the trust you were building in him. “Why don’t you tell people, that those guys are all lying?”

“No one would believe me,” you shrug, eyes cast down to where his hand still rests on yours, and his touch prevents you from picking nervously at the skin around your nails.

“I do,” He assures you, “And I promise the next time I hear anyone say any of that stuff about you, I’ll beat their face in.”

“Yeah, you’d drop gloves for me?”

“Look at you with your hockey talk.” He coos, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, where you had barely noticed a tear trailing down until he wipes it away with his thumb, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I would. We’re partners, remember? I’ve got your back.” He extends his pinkie out to you, and you curl yours around it until he’s tugging it toward him, leaning down to press his lips to your knuckle, his kiss like a promise as his green eyes meet yours.

It doesn’t gross you out, this time. If you’re honest with yourself, it hadn’t the first time he did it, either. It was cute, in an entirely dorky and childish and almost nostalgic way.

And you’re compelled to do the same, leaning and touching your pouted lips to his pinky, eyes fluttering closed as you kiss his skin, the rush of blood to your head somehow louder than the steady stream of the fountain beside you.

“Listen,” he starts, lowering his hand but keeping your pinkies interlocked, resting them between you both on the stone. “If whatever this is that we’re doing makes you uncomfortable, or brings all that stuff back, I can back off a little.”

Something akin to disappointment floods through your system, your heart rate picking up in a panicked staccato, but you try to stay cool - still, for whatever reason, holding your cards close to your chest.

“I can make sure my brothers don’t make any more stupid comments about us, they’re doing it to annoy me, not you. And I can,” he takes a deep breath, eyes flickering between yours as if to gauge your desires before he has to reluctantly pander to them. “I can stop, too.”

You nod, because it’s all you can do to shake away the tears threatening to flood your lash line at just the thought of him giving up on you.

It’s the lump in your throat that blocks the words coming out to tell him as much, and your lips twist in discomfort as you take in the way he’s looking at you - gaze filled with dwindling patience and waining resilience. There’s only so far you can continue to push him, you can see that now, and if you’d have told the version of yourself that first sat down with him all those weeks ago - the version of yourself that refuted any chance of ever warming up to him, that saw him as nothing more than an annoyance, a disturbance to your tips for the day - that the thought of him stopping whatever you have would make you feel like this?

That cold-hearted bitch would have laughed in your face.

“Hey, lovebirds!” There’s a shout from across the courtyard, and Quinn appears in the distance with hands cupped around his mouth. The intrusion has you retracting your hand, and you can see the way Luke reacts in your peripheral, a resigned nod given instinctually before he looks over to his brother. “I’m driving home if you two want a ride!”

Luke doesn’t look back at you before pushing himself up, but he offers a hand to help you stand, and the two of you walk in silence to meet Quinn by the exit.

The car ride back to the house is silent, too, save for the soft hum of the radio that filters through the car. Josh sits up front with Quinn, head lulling against the window as he falls asleep worryingly quick, and you’re squished in the middle between Luke and Alex, Jack having stayed back with their parents. It’s hard not to press your legs against Luke’s - his are so gangly and long that they take up more than their fair share of room, and it’s much less awkward despite the circumstances to be touching him than touching Turcs. You feel a lot less tense when you’re touching, anyway.

And when Quinn pulls up, Luke still helps you out of the car - ever the gentleman, even in the face of apparent rejection.

Quinn and Alex work at lugging an overly inebriated Josh up to his room, leaving Luke to guide you through the house, and the silence starts to become unbearable as he whispers a quick and quiet goodnight, leaving you at the door to yours and Ellie’s room as he makes his way down the hall.

“Hey, Luke,” you call out in a whisper toward him as he retreats, his tall frame turning, a gleam of what you interpret as hope flashing across his green eyes.

“Yeah?” He hums back, voice low as not to disturb anyone else, gaze meeting yours, locking in place with an almost audible click.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

You’re worried for a second you’ll have to expand, that maybe his slightly intoxicated memory doesn’t stretch as far back as to remember the conversation the two of you had had out by the fountain.

Elaborating on it would be embarrassing to say the least - because what, exactly, are you supposed to say?

I don’t want you to stop flirting with me.

I don’t want you to stop kissing me when no one else is around.

I don’t want you to stop being the only person I can talk to.

I don’t want you to stop bulldozing into my very secure and sturdy walls, thank you very much. They’re starting to tumble down in what could be a very calamitous fashion.

Worried you might have to expose a little more of yourself than you had originally anticipated, you chew at the corner of your lip, waiting.

But then he smiles - in that easy way that makes your bones feel like jelly, your knees weakening to the point that you lean against the still-closed door of your room. In the way that has that loudmouth voice you’re trying too often to suppress within you screaming, God, he’s so cute!

“I know,” he smirks, the bastard, liquid courage running deep through his veins, “Inevitable, remember?”

You scoff, almost instinctively rolling your eyes despite the endeared warmth that floods your belly. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know,” he says again, “You coming?”

And all you can do is nod, biting back a fully-fledged smile before you’re rushing over and slotting yourself under his outstretched arm.

You definitely enjoy him more than you should.

Living with boys for the first time in your life has taught you a lot over the weeks you’ve been staying at the lake house.

The first is that they’re weirdly messy - in ways that shouldn’t bother you, but they do. It isn’t clothes left around, or dirty plates - but it’s hand soap crusted around the spout by the faucet, shoes kicked off and discarded at random points throughout the house, and they, for some bizarre reason, never put the lid back right on anything.

The second is that they’re loud - and that should have been anticipated. Guys are notoriously obnoxious. But it isn’t just their voices that carry. It’s footsteps up the stairs, stomping in the dead of the night when one of them needs a drink. It’s chewing their food, or slurping their coffee, or scraping the feet of their chairs against the floor when they’re sat at the dining table. It’s tapping their hands on their knees in haphazard rhythm whenever there might be an ounce of peace that they, without a doubt, misunderstand for awkward silence.

And the third is that they probably couldn’t organise a fire in a match factory. And that goes for a lot of things - the kitchen cupboards, their laundry loads, and, most importantly, one of the many parties they love to throw.

It wouldn’t bother you so much - they usually work out in the end - but this time, it��s Ellie’s birthday, and the way they leave everything until the last minute is about to give you an aneurysm or something.

There’s no food, no drinks, no cake, no decorations, and the party is tonight.

And Jack, who’s grand idea it had been to throw her a party in the first place, seems to have kidnapped her - disappearing and leaving you to try and figure out what’s going on.

Cole is the one who finds you in the kitchen, spiralling out, frantically trying to put together some kind of list so that one of the guys can go to the store and pick up the bare minimum to throw a party together - and he manages to calm you down - gathers the rest of the guys and helps come up with a plan, sharing out different categories. Quinn and Josh are down to get drinks, Cole and Alex are down to get food, and you and Luke are down for decorations.

And then within the next five minutes, you’re back up in your room, transferring things from one of your bags into a tote, so you can carry more stuff back to the car without having to bring back a load of plastic, and Luke is sat on your bed, leaning back onto his hands as he watches you, green eyes still tickling your skin with their tangible watch.

“I know we’re on a time crunch, but could we make another pit-stop at the mall? I still need to find a present for this baby shower.”

“Oh, actually, I made you something.”

“You made me something?” You can feel him watching you as you dig through the bag you’d brought back with you from being home.

“Yeah, I was bored, when you guys were gone, I forgot to give it to you when you got back, got kinda distracted by the whole wedding thing,” you tell him, reaching blindly to try and find the little figure. “I went by that art supply store and picked up one of those kits,” You finally find it, pulling out the little crotchet animal that may or may not have been your fourth attempt. The first had a stubby neck, the second had uneven legs, and you don’t think the third one’s face was anywhere near appropriate to be gifting to a child. This one isn’t perfect, but you’d honestly reached your limit with it. “Don’t make it a thing, it was like therapy while I was back home to be honest.”

“Oh that’s adorable.” He pouts, accepting it from you and immediately turning it back, bobbing it’s head as if to greet you. “Why a giraffe?”

“Long neck,” you smile, reaching out to pat it. “Reminded me of you.”

“Ha ha,” he rolls his eyes, but the laughter feels real enough. “She’ll love it.”

“She?” It slips out by instinct before you can check yourself, eyes widening as his meet yours again, his lips twitching in the corners. “Thought you said it was for your captain,”

“It is.” He smirks, “Men can’t carry babies last time I checked.”

You nod, because of course men can’t carry babies. Of course the shower is for the mother of the baby - who you vaguely remember Jack and Luke talking about - someone who works with them back in Jersey. Someone they’re both close to, clearly, if Luke’s stressing this much about a gift.

“Wait, are you jealous?”

“No.” You scoff, frowning purposefully, lips turning down in forced denial.

“You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You want to take this back now, huh?” He holds the giraffe in a way that it bends, adorably, like he’s trying to taunt you with it, and it’s wonky eyes do little to distract from the charm he gives it.

“Nope.” You shrug, “You can give it to whatever girl you want, doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Of course not,” he stands, stepping toward you slowly, “You couldn’t care less what I do away from this house, right?”

“Right.” You gulp, looking into soft green eyes, your legs starting to wobble at the knees, strength and integrity waining as the seconds pass. You really don’t know why you’re still keeping this game up. Ever since that night of the wedding, you’ve been sneaking off into Luke’s room as soon as Ellie falls asleep. You fall asleep by his side, and he wakes you when he gets up early, so you can sneak back without Ellie realising you’ve even gone.

You’ve kissed him every day, sometimes tender, sometimes torrid - over the centre console of his car when he drops you off at work, in his bed before you drift off to sleep, in the kitchen when you sneak off under the ruse of refilling your drink. He can tell the difference between the flavours of lip balms you wear, comments on it like he has a little ranking system filed away somewhere in the back of his mind. You both whisper your secrets in the dark of the night, and you had promised him that you would try to open yourself up more to him.

“I thought we were past this,” he hums, stepping closer, voice low in a way that buzzes through your bones. “Thought we were being honest with each other, now.”

“Honest?” You ask, voice weak, neck craning now to look up at him, eyes boring into your own as he advances on you.

His hand reaches to cup your jaw, to tilt your head just that bit further, and presses his lips straight to yours instead of elaborating any further.

He’s tentative, at first. Gentle, even. Fingertips ghosting along the side of your neck, pulling you closer, less with any physical force and more so with pure magnetic attraction, your skin humming - buzzing, even, to be touched by him in any which way.

Your chin tilts as your mouths slot together in a soft, slow kiss, and when his lips touch yours, everything else fits perfectly into place. The fingers of his left hand press firmly into the flesh of your hip, now, using a slight force to manoeuvre you how it suits him - as close as he can physically get you - and those on his right reach around enough to slightly curve towards the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure so that your chin angles upward to deepen the kiss, his tongue pressing a pleading invitation into your bottom lip.

An invitation you immediately grant him, your hands finding their place on his body with ease, one flat against the warm expanse of his chest and the other matching his, soft fingertips grazing the skin of his neck until they tangle in the slight overgrowth of curls at the nape.

Everything feels so fluid, so effortless, and yet, so new - like this is the first time you have kissed, an eruption of fresh feelings bursting through you. There’s still a familiarity that lingers - one of ease, where it’s like your bodies have each other mapped out, already. You know every cell of him and he of you, and it’s evident in the way the moment escalates.

Your bodies naturally gravitate towards the nearest surface, his fingers reaching out behind your hip to soften the blow of him pushing you into the dresser, your back arching, feet moving in sync as not to tangle and trip, or stumble and break the kiss.

But there’s nothing else clumsy about it.

He lifts you with ease, the cold surface only a slight shock to the system, and it brings you to the perfect height where he can seamlessly move his kisses from your lips, past your jaw, down your neck and into the crevice of your collarbones, leaving a trail of the sticky residue of your lip balm.

Strong hands cup your thighs, parting your legs until he can stand between them, and your fingers bury themselves into his curls, pushing into him however you can.

When his fingers graze the inside of your thigh, his lips part from the hot skin of your clavicle, and his head tilts slightly until his darkened green eyes meet yours.

“Please,” you breathe out before he can even ask, beyond caring for whatever particles of pride you’ve been desperately trying to cling to when you watch his lips curve slowly into the most panty-dropping smirk you think you’ve ever seen.

“Please what?”

Your lips part as if by instinct, a biting remark fizzling out on the tip of your tongue as your mind works for some kind of comeback, for some semblance of resistance to whatever this version of him is, but there’s nothing. Just a frantic plea for him to do anything to you. Whatever he wants.

Your hips shuffle forward as if led by a mind of their own, trying to force his hand up, only for him to follow the movement of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you find yourself pouting, spikes of heat flashing through you at the way you can see the thoughts crossing his mind, of all the ways in which he can torture you - putty in the palm of what you thought were safe hands.

“Tell me you were jealous,” he prompts, leaning forward to press a teasing kiss to your lips, “Tell me that the thought of me even talking to another girl makes your skin crawl.”

Don’t let him get cocky, a voice prevails in the back of your mind, despite the accuracy of his words. Tell him he’d have to have an ounce of game for you to be remotely worried, tell him the only thing that makes your skin crawl is his incessant need to mouth off all the time. Tell him, tell him, tell him!

“I was jealous,” you breathe out instead, chasing the victorious smirk that stretches across his lips in the hopes you can kiss it away.

Jealous of a girl you’ve never met, in a relationship with another man, pregnant with his child, not remotely interested in Luke.

A girl who gets to see him all the time, who knows him probably in ways you might never, who he cares enough about to want to gift her something meaningful. Who he casually texts and smiles at his phone as he’s doing so, who he and Jack talk affectionately about in ways they’ll never talk about you.

You’ve officially lost it.

“And if you don’t touch me in the next 3 seconds,” you carry on, scrambling to claw back one single iota of your dignity, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders, “I won’t let you touch me again.”

Luke laughs. Practically snorts at you, eyes crinkling in the corners in pure amusement. Your dignity is long gone.

“1,” you start, your voice shakier than you’d ever like it to be, and his hands move to either side of your hips, clutching at the edge of the dresser.

“2,” you didn’t think you could sound worse than before, definitely longer than a second ago, but you’re quickly proven wrong as you watch him leverage that grip to push himself upright, creating a distance between the two of you that drains all the heat from your body.

“3.” he finishes, taking a step back and watching you with unadulterated hunger in his eyes, daring you to follow through with your threat - and the smug idiot knows you won’t.

He knows it’s coming, even anticipates the way in which you pounce on him, arms ready to catch you when you throw yourself down onto the ground in front of him, landing with a quick thud that jolts you straight into him. Hands at either side of his face pull him down, and he does half of the work in bending his back so it isn’t as clumsy.

You tangle yourself up in him, legs twisting between each other until you’re stumbling toward the bed, and it’s as soon as you get your fingers back into his hair, as soon as his hands are pushing your top up, grazing at the warm skin of your back, that you hear a call of your name.

You falter back from him just as the door swings open, managing to create a reasonable amount of distance as Ellie swaggers in, voice still raised as she asks, “Have you seen my-,” It’s Luke that she sees first, eyes zeroing in on his flushed face with pin-point accuracy, her brows furrowing as she takes him in, heaving chest and messy hair and all. “Lip gloss?”

Lip gloss? Is she joking?

“You came all the way back up here for lip gloss?” You ask, still slightly breathless and brain fogged, and feeling very much like you’ve just put all your chips on the table and watched them get swept away in seconds.

You watch as Ellie’s eyes dart to Luke’s mouth, watch him grow conscious of the balmy coating smeared across his lips, and you feel your heart stop in it’s place, your chest squeezing in anticipation of a thump thump thump that doesn’t come.

“No,” she mutters, diverting her attention back to you with a sobering shake of her head. “Balm,” she corrects, “The kind with SPF, I think I’m burning, I didn’t realise me and Jack were gonna be gone all morning.”

“Uhm, yeah,” you breathe, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears in the hopes it helps cool your head down, some. “I have some in my bag.”

Your tote is on the dresser you had just been placed on yourself, and you use the opportunity to dig through it to will the burning sensation in your ears away, levelling out your breathing as you root around for a tube of lip balm you know is in there somewhere.

“Could you check for my car keys, too? I was thinking we could drop by the mall for lunch. Catch up” She adds, with a forced wiggle of her brows, clearly what she had actually come up here for, and you fish those out too, throwing them across to her. “Quinn’s looking for you before you go, Luke, something about a list.”

“I should go check what he wants,” Luke mumbles, putting another few steps of distance between you before he offers an awkward wave, and departs the room with heavy feet that you hear stomp all the way down the hall, the last thing you see of him being a skinny, lopsided crochet giraffe poking out of his back pocket.

Apparently Jack’s plans of keeping some element of surprise for the party had gone out of the window as soon as he had got her alone - and you’re kind of grateful for the fact.

Keeping secrets from Ellie is stressful - you of all people would know, you’ve somehow managed to keep a pretty big one from her all summer - and she usually has a way of figuring things out on her own.

You probably would have folded to her - just the two of you out together, sipping smoothies in the food court at the mall - if he hadn’t already filled her in one the plans for the night.

It makes up a little for his lack of effort, earlier - especially now that your hands are clear of it. You don’t know how much you trust the guys to put something together while you and Ellie are looking for an outfit for her, but you have no choice but to leave them to it. Jack had reassured you he had everything under control, and despite the absurdity of that statement, it’s nice for that panic you had been feeling earlier to have been flushed away.

“I think tonight’s the night,” Ellie sighs dreamily, elbow resting on the table and her chin in the palm of her hand, “We had this really deep conversation while we were out walking, and he pretty much told me he has feelings for me, he was really nervous, it was kind of cute.”

“I’ll take your word for the cute thing,” you chuckle, sipping at your smoothie and smiling at how happy she looks. It’s nice to hear, her having hope about the situation for once, instead of dread or fear.

“He said you two spoke at his cousin’s wedding,”

“It was nothing,” you shrug, “He didn’t need any interference from me to realise he likes you, El, he just needed a nudge.”

“I can hardly call you out on interfering,” her lips twist, nervously, “I’ve kind of been doing the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I’ve been hanging out with Cole so much all summer?”

“Cole?” You frown, leaning back into your chair, “You’ve lost me.”

When you’d last spoken to Ellie about Cole, she had told you they just got along, and there was nothing more to it - and you had no reason to believe otherwise. When you and Luke had been in the midst of your own interference, and you had been playing third wheel to their hangouts, they had been getting along. Almost like siblings. Cole never flashed her those flirty winks or toothy grins that he gave everyone else.

“He’s into you.” She says, finger swiping in the ring left behind from her smoothie cup on the table, “And I was kind of giving him advice on how to approach you. I figured you wouldn’t mind, ‘cause he’s like your normal type, and you seemed like you liked him-,”

“I’m sorry, you think I like Cole?”

You’re taken aback. You don’t remember giving any sort of indication you were ever into Cole Caufield.

Maybe you could have been, before this summer - would have probably fallen victim to his cheeky smiles or his teasing banter. He’s probably closer to your usual type, if you even have one. Confident, with a presence that sort of demands attention. But you realise, now, your attention should be earned - in more than just a flash of cute teeth and boyish features.

In dumb jokes told just to bring you out of a bad mood, and a car with the AC dialled up waiting for you after a shift on a hot day. In hands that offer you help before you ever have to ask, and eyes that see so far beyond what version of yourself you try to put out there.

You could have liked Cole, in another world, or another life, if another boy wasn’t around.

“I did until I walked in on you kissing Luke, earlier.”

You blink slowly at her, mouth agape as she stares blankly back.

What the fuck?

“I wasn’t kissing Luke,” you scoff, denial making your face twist in funny ways that you can even feel look deranged. “We were talking.”

“Into each other’s open mouths?” She snickers, “Unless he’s been digging around in our stuff when we’re not around, I can’t think of any other reason he’d have left the room with Summer Fridays Vanilla Beige smeared all over his lips.”

“It was Brown Sugar, actually.” You correct her, guiltily, hoping the words you mutter next through pouted lips don’t quite make it to her ears. “He says it’s sweeter.”

“Oh my God.” She guffaws, mouth agape and eyes wide in realisation. “How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” you deny, although you can feel heat creeping up your neck, already. “We just get along-,”

“We get along, and you don’t welcome me home with an open mouth.”

“Ellie-,”

“Listen, he’s not just some guy that you can mess around with, he’s way deeper into you than you probably realise, and-,”

“I like him, okay?” you blurt out, voice just loud enough to be heard over her rambling but not enough to carry anywhere else, and the silence that follows is almost deafening - prolonged in a way that you can’t even remember if you said anything, or not.

But the way Ellie is looking at you tells you enough.

Why is everyone so caught up on you breaking his heart?

As if you aren’t putting the entirety of yours on the line.

“Luke?” She asks, like the two of you haven’t just been talking about him. “You like Luke Hughes?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, leaning onto your elbows and pressing the palms of your hands to your face, eyes scrunching tight to try clear up some mind space to make sense of what it is you’re admitting to.

It makes sense already, to you. Verbalising it is the problem.

He’s charming, he’s funny, he makes you laugh, most times unintentionally but that doesn’t make your feelings dwindle in the slightest.

He’s weirdly passionate about that one horse movie and won’t shut up trying to get you to watch it with him, but it’s endearing in a way that you want to kiss him to shut him up. Or maybe even watch it, God forbid.

He literally never stops eating, but it’s like his body is in tune to yours now, and he always makes double if he feels like you might be hungry so you don’t ever have to ask, which is weirdly sweet.

When you lay beside him in the middle of the night, you don’t feel pressured to do anything other than talk.

And when you do, he listens to you - retains information and checks up in a way that makes you feel seen, makes you feel a way you haven’t in a really long time. He doesn’t talk over you, or dismiss your feelings, or try to change the topic when things go a little too deep or get a little heavy. He shares the load, asks questions that make you think and process things in a new way, and he isn’t patronising when he does so. He doesn’t say things that sound like they’re straight out of a Psych 101 textbook like your feelings are valid or what makes you think that?

And he compares your wildly different worlds in a way that doesn’t feel like a competition. His troubles aren’t worse than yours, his life isn’t harder.

You’re equals.

You’ve never felt like anyone’s equal, not even Ellie.

It’s like with all the other parts of your life that make you hurt, make you feel small and insignificant - they fade away when you’re with Luke.

His corner of your world is bright - despite the seemingly inexhaustible snark-meter constantly ticking between you two - it’s easy, doesn’t weigh down on you or make your chest feel tight, not in that way, at least.

You’ve been introduced to a whole new influx of feelings in your chest by Luke.

You can give in to the ugly side of yourself that wants to bite at him until there’s nothing left, to push whenever he gets a little too close, and you don’t have to worry that you’ll scare him off or push too far, ‘cause he’ll just pull you with him and bite back - only, it doesn’t hurt like when anyone else does it. Somehow, you think he savours the parts that other people might spit out - chews and swallows and rubs at his belly in satisfaction like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.

Despite all the other things that have shattered your heart, Luke Hughes makes it feel whole, again.

And it should make you feel sick - lovey-dovey stuff like that usually does, your walls shooting straight up at the first sign of affection from anybody, metaphorical sneakers on and carrying your legs as far and as fast as they can run - but this doesn’t.

You don’t want to run from Luke, not really.

“I thought you said he was dorky and annoying.”

You’re pretty sure she had been the one to say that, at some point, but you don’t remember arguing the fact, so you don’t bring it up.

“He is.” You pout. He’s also apparently inevitable. “He kinda crept up on me, I guess.”

Ellie is quiet for a minute as she watches you, eyes narrowing as she takes you in - shoulders slumped, lips pouted, defeated.

“Why not just tell him, then? Why hide it?” She asks, leaning onto the table too until your faces are level when you peak up at her, “You know he likes you back, right? He’s got the biggest crush on you, it’s borderline problematic.”

“I don’t know, I don’t really understand why he likes me.”

“Does it matter?”

It does. You don’t want to keep running, but you can’t really help it. There’s something ingrained deep within you that is trying to shelter yourself from all the ways in which succumbing to these feelings will inevitably hurt you.

“Luke’s way smarter than me, and he’s way more successful, he’s kind and he’s generous, he comes from a great family, has this great house, we have literally nothing in common, and he doesn’t see that now because he just thinks he’s attracted to me, and he likes that I don’t just fold to him because he’s some superstar, but the second that’s gone,” you sigh, trying to swallow down the hurt in your voice, blink away the onslaught of tears, “He’ll just get bored of me like everybody else does, and then he’ll be gone. And I’ll just be some girl he broke up with and left behind, and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

Ellie frowns, a strained mutter of your name called as her hand falls to yours in an attempt to comfort you. “You’ll never know if you don’t try, babe.”

“No, I know.”

It’s all you’ve ever known.

Men who start off treating you like some prized possession - cherishing you, making you feel valued and loved - and the second the shine wears off, the second something even newer, even brighter, even sparklier, crosses their path, they’re gone.

And you’re left behind wondering what it is about you that keeps driving them to leave.

It happened with your dad, with his new wife and their perfect kids - the boys he always wanted, who he never had to force himself to like. The dream family he abandoned you to pursue. It happened with Jamie, with all the girls he saw after you, with the way he never even looked your way again, even after all the secrets you shared, and the promises he made. With all those other boys who never saw you as anything more than a fabricated story to spread for a few brownie points with their buddies in the locker room.

It will happen again.

These feelings you have for Luke - the comfort he gives, the contentment, the ease in conversation, the warmth he bathes you in until your skin prunes and he seeps in through the cracks - they’re better kept to yourself. It’s easier that way, to keep this whole heart under lock and key, not giving anyone a chance to break parts off and keep it for themselves.

It’s almost perfect the way it is.

Safe, even from the clutches of the boy who pieced it back together, brick by laborious brick.

“There isn’t long left of the summer, anyway,” you go for a nonchalant shrug, but your shoulders feel heavy, and it turns out more like an arduous huff. “I doubt he’s shy of female attention back in Jersey, he’ll forget I ever existed before he even knows it.”

“You should talk to him,” Ellie suggests, “At least let him know where you stand, even if it’s to tell him things can’t go further.”

The thought of it is too daunting. Looking into those gleaming green eyes and laying your heart on the line.

You can pretend all you want to Ellie, to yourself, even, that you wouldn’t want more, but you don’t think you could keep up the show with him.

“He deserves at least that.”

And damn it, she’s right.

Maybe he even deserves a proper chance.

Luke never thought he’d regret kissing you for any reason, but he’s wishing he had practiced some restraint up in your room, earlier.

If he hadn’t advanced on you, had let you pack your bag and got you out of the house before Ellie and Jack got back, he could have followed through on his plan of action for the day.

A plan he’d been hyping himself up for, all week - getting you on your own, talking things out, maybe even asking you out. Properly. Not just dinner at the mall, but a real date. Planned, perfected. A fancy dinner, or a trip to the movies. A picnic blanket laid out somewhere with a nice view, and an abundance of your favourite snacks.

He wants to kiss you without having to hide it, anymore.

He wants to walk with you tucked under his arm. Wants to have you in his lap when there’s too many people over at the house, and the group are struggling for space on the couches in the den.

He also sort of wants peace of mind, but what’s that compared to not having to sneak around, anymore.

He’d made his mind up in the morning, waking up beside you at 5am, rousing you from your sleep with soft mutterings of your name, and lips pressed to your cheek until he could feel you smile.

“Hi,” your voice had been croaky, and your movements slow, shuffling against him as your skin became illuminated by the soft glow of the rising sun slipping through the gap in the curtains. Your legs had been tangled with his under the sheets, and you did little to untangle them, and he was tempted to lock his so that you couldn’t.

“Hey,” he mumbled, lips still moving against your skin, nipping at your cheek, your jaw, your throat, and your fingers rose until they clutched at the back of his hair, curls wrapping around them as you held him in place.

“What time is it?”

“Around five,” his own hands landed on your waist, slipping under the hem of your tank, and trying to savour the warmth of your skin, your body hot from being against his all night. “Figured you’d need to be a little earlier today with it being Ellie’s birthday and all.”

“Thank you,” you used your soft grip on his curls to tug, until his face left the crook of your neck, and you blinked softly, smiled sweetly, and he felt his heart beat at twice the normal speed. You leant up and kiss him, straight on the lips, and he smiled against you just as you pulled away.

He felt cold all over as soon as you detached yourself, and he rolled onto his side to watch as you stood, arms raised to stretch and lifting the bottom of your tank top to rise up your belly.

He felt robbed. Like he deserved longer with you, and it had been as you crawled back over your side of his bed, and had kissed him once more before leaving, that he had decided he needed to do something about it.

His original plan had been to steal you away at some point in the night, everyone else too distracted by the party to notice or care, but being teamed up with you to go get decorations seemed like it would work too.

Until Jack came back and fucked his plans up.

Jack said that he would go get the food with Turcs, that he had already paid for a cake, and he had to show his ID when he picked it up. He said Ellie shouldn’t have to do anything, and that you would be the best person for her to do nothing with, which left Luke picking up decorations with Cole.

It wasn’t that he minded Cole’s company, but Cole isn’t you.

He probably could have tucked Cole under his arm as they walked side by side through target and picked up a bunch of of banners and streamers, given the logistics of their height difference, but it wouldn’t have been as cute.

He has managed to get a lot of unexpected information though. And of course, his only thought is that he can’t wait to share it with you.

Cole tells Luke how he and Ellie have only been hanging out all summer to make Jack jealous.

He bites his tongue to refrain from telling him that sort of trick doesn’t work on his brother, but Cole seems too pleased with himself for Luke to rain on his parade, and he finds it kind of funny that everyone’s been working to get the two of them to wake up to their feelings, not just you and him.

Cole might have even ended up putting more effort into it than you and Luke did, acting as a go-between for Jack and Ellie, and raising the stakes for both of them to make a move.

“And what do you get out of any of that?” Luke chuckles as he works at taking the banners out of their plastic wrapping, Cole taking the plastic and putting it straight into the trash.

The smile drops as soon as Cole says your name, though, and Luke’s hands stop in place. “Ellie’s been giving me insider info. I’m primed and ready to make a move.”

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Luke frowns, “You like her? Since when?”

He tries not to let the panic stirring in his chest reflect on his features, but it’s hard.

Cole and Ellie had been hanging out for a long time, now. He can’t have been into you that whole time, right? Not without saying anything to anyone else - Cole is kind of mouthy, like that. Word would have got back around to Luke if Cole’s liked you for months.

“Since I met her. She’s a really cool girl, really funny.” Cole scoffs, hand reaching out for more trash. “And she’s, like, one of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen, you know?”

Of course Luke knows. He’s seen the most beautiful sides to you - soaked head to toe from a garden hose, eyes crinkled from laughter, or the aftermath, curled up on a couch with just-dry hair and heart opening up to him for the very first time. In an orange baseball cap and a Mets jersey, twirling as you exit one of the fitting rooms you had found in the mall, a big cute grin on your face as you allow yourself to dorky with Luke, and only with Luke. Sat out on the fountain at the club, skin bathed in the glistening moonlight and your heart thumping in the palm of his tender hands. Laid beside him in the early hours of the morning, soft snores falling from between your lips and hair splayed out against his pillow.

But he can’t exactly say that to Cole - who has apparently been working to pursue you this entire time without Luke ever catching on.

“Ellie says I’m her type, so I don’t know why I’m stressing about asking her out-,”

“Out like on a date? Like you want to date her?”

Luke knows he sounds like an idiot without Cole giving him the weirded-out look he gives, but he’s starting to lose out to the dread that is flooding the pit of his stomach. He stumbles to follow Cole out of the kitchen and into the living room, where they had set up a step ladder before to hang the decorations.

“You really think I’d be trying so hard if I didn’t?” Cole scoffs, “Catch up, Luke, I’m trying to end my summer with a girlfriend-,”

“She’s hardly girlfriend material.”

The words taste sour in the mouth that moves before his brain has time to think - sour enough that he has to try not to grimace, wishing he could suck them back in and swallow them back down like they never came out.

“What do you mean?” Cole asks, his features dropping into a frown. “I thought you two were getting along.”

“We are,” he agrees, despite it seeming like an understatement, but words are starting to pour out before he can filter them, and he can already feel himself getting carried away. “And she’s a nice enough person, don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t think it would work out with her like that.”

“You think she’d be hard work?”

He knows you are. But he likes you that way. He doesn’t want anyone else to worm their way into your good graces like he has.

“Yeah,” he huffs, “She’s always out, and always flirting with guys at the club, you’ve seen it.” He knows he’s pulled that out of his ass, but what else is he supposed to say?

“I think she’s just fishing for tips, Lukey,” Cole chuckles, and Luke’s cheeks flush with humiliation at the pet name. He feels small, like he’s just something that Caufield can steam roll straight over without much protest. “Can’t blame her, some of those guys have deep pockets.”

“I’ve just heard stuff, you know.”

“Like what?”

Jesus Christ, Cole, he thinks, wishing he’d just take his word for it and get over you, already. As if it would ever be that easy. He doesn’t particularly enjoy saying these things out loud - using the words you had so carefully confided in him against you - but there’s a panicked desperation creeping up within him, becoming possible to ignore, and it’s cancelling out all other rational thoughts in his brain.

The second you find out Cole Caufield is interested, you’ll no longer have any need for Luke.

Luke, who your every conversation with starts or ends with some sort of bickering argument, who annoys you to no end, who riles you up like it’s what he was put on this very Earth to do.

Cole is charming, he��s always had an ease when it comes to talking to girls that Luke never quite found in himself, and he’ll win you over in no time - and that’s if you aren’t interested, already.

But Luke is building up to that.

He’s been building up to it all summer.

Even before then, without entirely knowing it.

The two of you have something, even if you refuse to admit it. You wouldn’t have kissed him all those times, otherwise, wouldn’t have come to his bed in the middle of the storm those weeks ago, and almost every night since he came back from Vegas, wouldn’t have slept with him before he left, wouldn’t have begged him to give in to you - not if you weren’t interested in him.

You’ve shared parts of yourself he knows no one’s ever seen, and he can’t let that be for nothing.

But now the rug is being pulled out from under him, and all he can do to cling on to the edges with an idiotic possessiveness that curls his upper lip and brings his heart to a screeching stop.

“Like how she’s with a different guy every week at Michigan. Apparently she gets around.”

“Oh,” Cole frowns, and Luke watches as his face turns, his own fists clenching at the urge to take it all back, to defend her and call Cole out on his immediate shift despite it being his own fault.

He’s made his bed, now. He has to lie in it.

“Ellie didn’t mention all that stuff.”

“She’s hardly gonna call her friend easy.” Luke scoffs, and he thinks the way the words are spat out of his mouth is some sort of reflection of the way his lips don’t want to say them. Like they’re disgusted that his brain would even conceptualise them enough to be spoken. “Especially when you were doing her a favour with the whole Jack thing.”

“I don’t know man, I think you’ve got the wrong idea of her.”

Luke rolls his eyes as Cole makes his way back toward the step ladder, banner in hand, jaw tensing as he scrambles to think of something to stop this.

“She’s not the kind of girl you date,” he manages to call out, despite the tremor in his voice, every fibre of his being fighting the words from being spoken. “And there’s like a month left before we all leave for camp, so if you were to start anything, it would just be for the summer, anyway.”

“Jack and Ellie have started something with just a month left.”

“That’s not the same thing, they’ve been into each other for years, they text and call all the time, nothing’s really changing for them except for a label, you really think you’re gonna keep that up after just a couple months of knowing her?”

He reaches out for the other end of the banner and holds it as Cole positions his side, lip tugged between his teeth and a frown on his face as he mulls Luke’s words over.

“You’ll be in Montreal, and she’ll be here, and you’ll be focusing on hockey, and training, and you won’t have time to keep up something serious with a girl you barely know.”

He tries not to think about how it’s the same distance to Jersey - an almost 2 hour flight - and how he’d be doing the exact same thing, swept up into the season before he knows it and potentially doing nothing but letting you down.

“And you know what she’s like, she’d find something to argue about with a monk, for God’s sake,” he scoffs, brows furrowed so hard he can feel the tension in his forehead, “All you’d get from her is an earache. She’s not worth it.”

Cole turns to narrow his eyes at Luke, but something else over the top of his head catches his attention, instead, and the surprised muttering of your name turns Luke’s blood to ice.

Frozen in place, eyes wide, heart thudding in his ears, he waits with bated breath for something to happen - for Cole to break into a shit-eating grin, and tell him he’s just fucking around. For the ground to swallow him up. For anyone - literally anybody else - to respond.

But your voice carries straight over to him. Travels through his ears, ricochets around the cavern of his skull, shoots down his spine and makes his legs go numb.

“We uhm,” your tone is shaky, and Luke, for the first time, maybe, ever, hates the way you sound. “We were just checking if you needed a hand with the decorations.”

He turns slowly, and it’s Ellie’s eyes he meets first. Pointed, narrowed, betrayed, even, she glares at him like he’s just kicked a wounded animal right in front of her.

“You can’t decorate your own party,” Cole laughs from behind Luke, as Luke’s attention drifts slowly your way.

His eyes meet yours, and he can see the watery glaze over them from across the room. Can see your throat working to gulp down your hurt as your lips twist.

Ellie says something in response, and he vaguely hears Cole speak too, but all that he can focus on is the blood rushing around his head, a whooshing and whirring that makes him feel like his ears are about to pop, or his brain is about to explode. His lips part to speak, to say something, anything, to explain what you had clearly overheard, but your gaze drops to the floor, and he sees your walls build back up right before his eyes, brick by brick, cementing themselves back in place.

He’s such an idiot.

He’s such a monumental asshole.

The last time he had seen tears in your eyes had been sat by the fountain at the club - he had wiped them away, and had promised you he had your back, and you had just caught him having anything but with Cole. And all that after you had told him why you had ever been hesitant to let anyone in the first place.

He doesn’t think he’s ever messed up like this.

He steps forward, unsteady on his feet, and you step back, still not able to look him in the eye again, before turning on your heel and making your way upstairs.

Luke hears the stomp of your feet as you go, watches Ellie go after you, wishing it could be him, and stands, motionless, until he feels a firm pat on his back.

“Don’t worry, man,” Cole says, “She’s cool, she’ll be over it after a couple of drinks.”

Luke doesn’t even think he says anything coherent when he responds, a grunt or a grumble - it can’t have been words, because he can’t even form them in his brain.

“I’m gonna ask her out tonight, anyway,” Cole chuckles, “So what you said won’t even mean anything.”

Great.

He’s just fucked things up with one of the greatest people in his life, the girl of his dreams, and it doesn’t even mean anything.

Not the kind of girl you date.

Not worth it.

All that from the boy who supposedly had your back not that long ago. The first guy in a long time, maybe even ever, to make you feel secure, and safe, and like you could trust someone again.

Luke thinks you’re an earache.

He thinks you’re argumentative, and only worthy of a brief, summer fling - that keeping up anything with you when he goes home would be a waste of the time and energy he should be dedicating to hockey.

And he’s probably right, you think.

It’s only what you’ve been telling yourself in the back of your mind all summer. Self-deprecating thoughts about how he’s far too good for you, and you’re only interesting when he can’t have you, and he’ll get tired of you before you can even realise he’s already drifted off.

Ellie had told you all the way back in your freshman year that the two of you weren’t a good fit. Jack had been telling Luke the same all summer. And you had only just managed to convince yourself otherwise on the drive back to the lake house from the mall.

You can hardly blame him for being two steps ahead.

You think that’s why you can’t bring yourself to cry - the sting of tears prickling persistently but never pushing through, eyes watering so much you can’t even put on mascara without the fear of it trickling down your face and ruining the rest of your makeup.

You’d tried crying, before. Had ran up to your room and had sat on the other side of your bed, hidden from the door and knees pressed to your chest. Your breath had stuttered, and your lips had trembled, but the tears wouldn’t fall, try as you might to have made them.

And when Ellie had found you, had sat beside you with an arm stretched over your shoulders, you had tried, then, too.

And it would be your luck that as soon as you press the inky substance into your lashes that they would finally fall, so you’ve been sat trying to wish them away for the past ten minutes - the tube clutched in a death grip in your hands as you sit at the makeshift vanity you and Ellie had set up all those weeks ago when you had moved in, taking deep breaths and willing the hurt to go away.

It’s where Luke finds you after knocking with no response - you barely remember hearing it - shuffling wordlessly into the room and perching himself down behind you on the edge of the bed.

You see him in the mirror, your eyes darting away before his can meet them in the reflection, and you stiffen your shoulders, bracing yourself for the blow.

“I didn’t mean any of what you heard.”

You breathe out a humourless chuckle, bitterness settling into the pit of your stomach and your lips trembling with resistance.

“I mean it, I don’t think those things about you, I promise, I-,”

“It doesn’t even matter,” you cut him off with a roll your eyes, pushing the mascara tube toward the mirror and figuring you’re just gonna go without.

“I was panicking, and it just came out like word vomit, and I feel really sick about it, and really stupid, and I wish I could take it all back-,”

“I said it doesn’t matter.” You meet his eyes this time, trying not to fall for just how distraught he looks behind you in the mirror.

“Of course it matters,” he frowns, and you look away as soon as he pushes himself up, knowing he’s coming for you. “I need you to know that I would never have said those things-,”

“You said them, Luke,” you scoff, “What do you mean you would never have said them, you literally did.”

“I know-,”

“It doesn’t matter-,”

“Can you stop saying that!” He frowns, appearing at the side of you, hands gripping your shoulders to get you to face him. “I’m trying to explain this to you, I’m trying to fix things, and you’re-,”

“What, giving you an earache?”

All those weeks ago, the backs of your legs sticking to the bench in the booth in the restaurant, leaning over the table and sparring back and forth with him, you had convinced yourself that he liked it.

That the glint in his eye was indication of as much, the twitch at the corner of his lips, the way he would bite back without a second to think about it, and had matched your every effort to get one over on him.

You had thought the two of you had something real. Something you had never found with anyone else. Quick wit, and similar senses of humour, shared boundaries, a mutual level of respect.

You had thought his persistence had been something that would stick.

And clearly, you thought wrong.

He whispers out an utterance of your name that hurts like fingers wrapped around your throat - clenching and squeezing until you go hot in the head.

“I keep saying it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t, Luke. You were right, we wouldn’t have been able to keep this up past the summer, anyway.”

Luke’s brows furrow your way, eyes darting between yours as his lips part to speak, but nothing comes out.

“You’re going back to Jersey soon, I’m going back to school, it was fun while it lasted but things have run their course.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“We both do.” You shrug, wearing your feigned indifference like armour, just like you know so well to do. “You don’t say the things you said on a whim, Luke, some part of you has to believe that they’re true.”

“I don’t-,”

“I’m giving you a chance to cut things off with no hard feelings-,”

“No hard feelings?” His disbelief cuts through you a little, the hurt in his eyes and the scrunch of his features, too, but if you give in, now, you’re setting yourself up for a world of hurt.

You had barely just built up the courage to give your heart to him, in whatever shape he had scrunched and squeezed it into before, and he had already managed to bruise it. Giving in will only result in it breaking.

“I have feelings. I have feelings for you. And I know you have feelings for me, too, you can’t pretend you don’t-,”

“It doesn’t-,”

“It matters.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like this - so sure, so serious, so raw - and when he takes a hold of your face, hands cupping your jaw, tender but firm, and forces you to look at him, you see the same in his features. “Cole is into you. And he said he was gonna ask you out, and I panicked trying to convince him not to. I should have had faith that you would have turned him down. And I should have been honest, and I should have told him that I’m into you. More than into you, I think I-,”

“I wouldn’t have turned him down.”

You lie with such ease that it makes your heart ache more than the truth, but it’s the only thing you can do to protect it.

If you let Luke carry on, you’ll let him back in.

You can’t let him back in.

Not with the tears that now well his eyes, or the way his face drops like you’ve just struck him in the gut - pained and powerless.

“What?”

Your hands shake in your lap so much you have to clench them shut, knuckles turning white as Luke’s touch slips from your skin.

“If he asked me out, I would have said yes.”

Luke runs a hand through his hair, blinking repeatedly before he tears his gaze away from yours, and you feel like you can see his walls building - a sight that should flood you with relief, but doesn’t.

“So, what, everything we’ve been through together, all the things we’ve done, all the things we’ve said, you’re just gonna throw it all away like none of it matters?”

You can hear the hurt - can feel it even, clawing at your skin as if it’s trying to find a way to dig past the barriers you’ve put in place.

But you have to do this.

“I guess not.”

Luke was always going to hurt you. Was going to burrow himself through whatever cracks you left bare to him, weasel his way into your heart and tear it from the inside out. And maybe you were always going to do the same to him.

“Alright then,” he mutters, robotic and distant, with his eyes stuck on the floor.

He stands from where he had been crouched beside you, backing away before turning completely, and he walks away in long strides, the door to your bedroom closing with a soft click behind him.

The tear that falls when he’s gone does so slowly. You feel it trail all the way down your cheek from the corner of your eye, until it drops, almost audibly, from your jaw and onto your lap.

And then the rest follow, uncontrollable and unrelenting.

Inevitable, just like he had said.

A/N: so...... please don't hate me I wrote the ending first lmao!! I imagine this will cause riots in the streets tbh but please let me know what you think hahahah this whole story has become my baby!! she's problematic but she's mine!!!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #*writing #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes fanfiction

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bandgie · 2 days ago

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Kissing on New Years - SKZ OT8

Little drabbles of how I think skz would kiss reader during New Years! and yes MDNI18+ as always. no warnings idc to put any. happy New Years!!!! (divider from @/strangergraphics)

CHAN!

"Babe! Come on! You're going to miss it!" You looked to see your boyfriend with his headphones on, typing away at the computer. He didn't hear you, and though you know better than to disturb his work, this is an emergency. You run over to him, 10 seconds on the clock. You can hear the people from the television counting down. You and Chan didn't have the opportunity to travel for the New Year, but you don't mind missing out on New York. You're with Chris. That's what matters. Seven seconds. You rip the headphones off, not surprised to hear him let out a sound of surprise and turn to you. "What!" You tuck the headphones into your chest and grin, jumping excitedly on your feet. Chan stands and looks confused, but he soon hears the chanting on the TV. Five! Four!... "No way! I thought it was-" "Just kiss me!" One! It's rushed. The clank of teeth makes you wince, but you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him deeper. He smiles against your eager lips, wrapping his arms around your torso and lifting you off the ground. When you pull away, the sounds of firecrackers sound on the TV and you're sure can hear you neighbors shouting with joy. "Happy New Year, baby." "You almost missed it." "N-I didn't though!"

MINHO!

"Should I wake up the cats?" Minho stares at his sleeping, feline brothers. "I don't want them to miss it." You wrap your arms from behind, peeking from the side of his shoulder. "I dunno. They look kinda cute like that." Your lover hums in agreement, turning around so you're hugging him properly instead. "I think you're right." The two of you giggle before you hear clatter in the living room. "Kids! You're gonna miss it!" You can hear his mom. "We got only seconds left!" Seconds!? You and Minho share a look before rushing to the living room. His parents are already standing and holding each other with their gaze on the TV. They've got matching sweaters on and noise makers in their hands. You have a quick vision of how you and Minho will be when you're older. "Mom! I thought you said we had five minutes!" "No! Five seconds!" It's all so quick. The playful arguing from Minho and his mom to his dad trying to get his wife's attention. You can't even intervene before the clock strikes midnight and the television erupts in cheers. Happy New Years! It's like a switch in Minho. His banter stops and suddenly, you're the only person in the room. "Happy New Years." His voice is so quiet, like a secret only between the two of you. You whisper back and kiss him, but only quickly. It's still enough to feel the softness of his lips and to feel his smile. His parents laugh with joy, making you two pull away. "So when are you gonna get down on one knee, Jagiya?!"

CHANGBIN!

He's wearing those 2025 glasses. His big eyes peer right into yours, curls sticking to his forehead in a way that makes him a million times are sexy. You want to be mad, but you can't even pretend, "You ruined it!" Changbin's beautiful eyes widen. "You- I- How did you expect me to last that long!?" You have to keep from laughing. All of it was your idea anyway. You thought it would be funny to enter the New Year with Changbin shooting cum, but he couldn't last enough. Now you two are playfully arguing in the backyard with seconds left in 2024. "And-and it's cold! And we're outside!" "In the backyard!" You open your arms to display the scenery. "No one was gonna see me edge you!" Changbin shushes you. "S-stop being so loud!" You want to shout even louder just to see him panic, but you hear the booms of firecrackers. You're lucky that Changbin's place isn't too far from the Han River. You two watch as the stream of smoke bolts in the sky, and in just two seconds of delay, it explodes into colors with a loud boom! "Oh my god!" Changbin points in the sky. "Look! Look! Look!" You are looking, but at something so much brighter than any firecracker. More go off. They light up the dark sky beautifully, but the way the colors dance on Changbin's face is incomparable. You smile, "Happy New Years, Binnie." Changbin turns to you, already smiling and opening his strong arms. "Mhm. Another year with my love. Come here." And you do, and when you kiss, you think it's sweet. It's softer than usual, wetter almost. But you like the warmth you two create in the chilly night. Changbin pulls away, eyes wide. "Oh. I forgot I came in your mouth." Oh, that's why it feels like that. "You don't wanna kiss me?" "I never said that."

HYUNJIN!

There's so many people. Too many people. Times Square was always packed when you watched it on TV, but being here, you didn't really understand how bad it gets. Hyunjin's holding onto you tight. People are shoving, trying to get closer to the Ball that will drop in seconds. People are shouting, screaming, crying, and you're trying to wrap your arms around Hyunjin's neck. "This sucks." Hyunjin mumbles so they don't hear him, but you don't think they could even if he shouted it. You want him to have a good time despite you feeling the same, so you manage to smile up at him. "We're in New York, babe. Don't act too surprised." He grins at you, then looks up to the Ball. "Look." You turn and see the giant clock ticking down. 3...2...1 HAPPY NEW YEAR And despite the massive crowd and ear-bleeding screams, you're right you want to be. Hyunjin grips your chin, forcing you to look at his beautiful face. You've always though your lover was ethereal. His nose curved cutely at the tip and his jaw was so strong, but the juxtaposition made it work perfectly. And his lips sit lovely on his face, shiny from the way he was swiping his tongue over him. Neither of you speak a word, but the deep look into each other eye's says it all. He leans down gently, placing his lips on yours like there aren't a million other couples doing the same. And he's so warm. So endearing on your mouth that tears prick your eyes. You glide against his lips, easily slipping your tongue out so he can suck it into his mouth. He groans at your taste, hands digging deeper into your waist possessively. You lean back more, letting his own tongue invade your mouth and swipe gently against yours. Your hands travel to his buzzed hair, feeling the smoothness against your fingertips. Yeah. There's nowhere else you'd rather be.

HAN!

"Where's my baby! Where's my baby?!" He's screaming for you. Everyone at the party looks in his direction, confused and slightly worried. You rush to Han's side. You told him you were going to get a drink, but you underestimated how close midnight was and how drunk your lover is. "Oh my- I'm so sorry." You sheepishly look at the people trying to make room for you. "He's drunk and- Han! I'm right here!" His eyes are crossed and unfocused, but once he sees you, it's like he sobers for a second. Only a second. "Clock. 3-2-1." He points to a wall that does not have a clock. "Happy New Year?" You're stuck between laughing and crying. Chan told you he would keep an eye on Han while you refilled your cup, but once the girls starting rolling in, he had other plans in mind. "Yes, Han. Like, 10 more seconds." You're grabbing onto him for safety reasons. Your arm is looped with his, grabbing onto his jacket to act a leash in case he decides to stray away. Yet, it seems like all of that is unnecessary since he's putting all his weight on you. "Love you sooo much. You're my baby, you know that? Like forever." You're opening your mouth to tell him, yes you know, and that he should probably get some fresh air, but the party erupts in cheers and screams. No fucking way. Han's eyes widen. He's thinking the same thing. "We-we missed it!" You see his eyes get wet. "I-I can't kiss you until next year." Why did you have to fall for an idiot? "Yes you can. It's been like, two seconds." He's still pouting. "But...But I wanted-" You reach on your tippytoes and pull him down, cutting his words off with a kiss. Han muffles against you for a moment. As if it takes time for his brain to register that you're kissing. When it does, he swoons. His arms wrap around your neck and he leans further down, uncaring how his tongue messily licks onto your lips. The booze settles on your tastebuds immediately. You're not one for beer breath, but Han's taste and your own buzz makes it pleasant. He looses his balance quickly with his eyes closed. You have to plant your feet steady on the ground to keep the two of you up. You push him away by the shoulders and when you think you'll see confusion on his face, you see utter bliss instead. "Oh hell no." You know better than to fall for his sultry eyes and biting lip. "We're going home."

FELIX!

He's ready. Felix has been sat on the couch, staring at the TV for half an hour. He even set alarms to make sure neither of you miss when the clock strikes midnight. You're in the kitchen, cutting yourself a piece of his infamous brownie when another alarm rings. You try not to groan. "Felix, I really don't think you need-" "It's the last one! One minute, baby! Oh shit, I have to record this." You emerge from the kitchen to see him fumbling with the phone, shutting off the alarm and opening his camera app. He points the lens at you, dark hair peeking from above. "Any last words before the New Year?" You slow your steps, pursing your lips in thought. "Mmm... Fuck." Felix giggles. He puts the down a few inches to look at you directly. "I can't post that on TikTok." You laugh, finally making your way to the couch and setting the goodies on the center table. Felix follows right behind you, still clacking on his phone until you hear it shut off. Lithe arms wrap around your waist, turning you until you're faced to Felix. His dark hair falls over his eyes innocently with an adorable smile on his face. He looks unbelievably content celebrating New Years in your tiny apartment. Guilt twist in your heart. You want to apologize, but dozens of alarms go off before you can open your mouth. Felix's smile widens. "Happy New Year!" You laugh, both annoyed and amused at the alarms that play horribly in-sync. Felix chuckles only for a moment before tilting his head down, catching you off guard. His lips are gentle. You don't think you've felt him kiss you this softly in months, but you welcome it all. His lips barely contact yours and you eagerly push forward. He smiles against you, molding his mouth onto yours how you want. You pull away only to kiss at a different angle, holding his bottom lip longer than you're supposed to before letting it go and doing it again. Felix groans a little. His small hands bunch your shirt, pulling you closer. He looks devastated when you pull away. You shake your head, lips wet and tingling. "I can't stand these alarms. I think I'm going crazy."

SEUNGMIN!

It's really hard to keep your hands to yourself, and not in a sexual sense. He just looks so good. His hair is done up, pushed back to show his forehead with a white, puffy jacket over him. You can see every breath he exhales, every beautiful strand of hair under the moonlight, and how Seungmin wrinkles his nose every time he hears the loud chatter of people. "Sorry." He rubs his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers and finally letting you get a feel of his skin in this cold night. "This was the only spot I could find." Seungmin spent weeks looking for a secluded spot on the Han River. There's some passbyers, some children running with kites flying high in the sky, and the smell of baked goods not too far. The two of you sit on a blanket, a basket of fruits and drinks beside you. You lean on his shoulder, using your other hands to place it on his knee. "It's perfect. Thank you, baby." He turns to look at you, tilting his head and smiling like you're a million stars. You glance to his lips, already leaning forward and closing your eyes. You think you're going to feel his mouth, but you feel the palm of his hand instead. "Not yet." Not yet?? "But...but I want to kiss you now." Seungmin grins wider, teeth shinning and cutely scrunching his nose. "The new year is almost here. Just wait." You throw your head back dramatically, tugging on his fingers impatiently. "Noooo. Now." 10! You can hear the people nearby counting down in unison. 9! 8! 7! You straighten back up, looking wide-eyed at your boyfriend who's been looking at you the entire time. Seungmin leans in only to touch your nose with his. He's so infuriating. You try to sneak a peck in. Your pursed lips are met with air from Seungmin's quick reaction. He laughs and you don't understand how he can. The last few seconds feel tortuous. A whine is builds in your throat, but the screams and cheers make you stop. HAPPY NEW YEAR! You tackle Seungmin onto the grass. He goes down with a yelp and grabs your hips, bringing you with him. He can't even look confused before your lips are on him, kissing his lips repeatedly so the gentle smacks echo quietly between you two. And the sound is drowned out by the fireworks. You're sure they look pretty, bright and colorful dancing in the night sky, but Seungmin's lips are better than any gunpowder. He laughs in your mouth, mumbling about how he wants to see the firecrackers and that the grass is wet, but he holds onto you tighter and kisses you deeper. His head tilts, his mouth opens and you get a taste of how eager he had being wanting to kiss you too. Seungmin was just better at controlling himself. He has to be the one to pull away, lips plump and wet with spit. His face is flushed and you can see how hard he's breathing. "I love you. So much." Your hands plant on the grass besides him, and sure enough, it is wet. The muddy texture is hardly for concern when you lean down again, pecking his lips, nose and eyes. "I love you too. Happy New Years." "Happy New Years. Um..." His eyes look panicked when you look at his face. "I think there's a worm in my ear."

JEONGIN!

The drinks were supposed to loosen everyone up for the night. Han gets anxious in big crowds, Chan constantly feels the need to keep an eye on everyone, Felix just enjoys fruity drinks, and the rest are pretty much down to drink at any given time. But Jeongin? Jeongin gets hot. The clothes on his skin feels too tight and the dress on yours definitely is. He was already on you when you walked into Hyunjin's apartment, but the moment the jungle juice was half-way gone, he was asking to finger you in the corner of the room. Which brings you to now. The feel of his soft hair between your legs with his even softer tongue on your folds. The thudding of music and hollers vibrate through the wall, all the way to the second floor where Jeongin has you. You're not quiet, you never can be when his expert tongue runs over you. But with the loudness from the first-floor, you don't find any reason to lower your voice. You thought he wanted a quickie. A fast tug on the side of your underwear and the unbuckling of his belt, but Jeongin lead you to the bedroom rather than the bathroom and lifted your dress high. The material is bunched at your mid, breasts free and legs open. His long fingers peak at your nipples, twisting and pulling until your moans turn into squeals. And his tongue keeps digging into you. Thrusting itself in and out before swiping your arousal over your clit. Jeongin can feel your hips thrust every time he does it, so he stays sucking on your sensitive bud until you wrap your thighs around his neck. He groans, loving how your smell swallows him whole. Jeongin bruies his face deeper until his nose bumps your clit, swiping his tongue lower to collect your juices. You know you're cutting off his air circulation, but neither of you seem to care. Jeongin seemed perfectly happy with the possibility of his death being between your legs, and you seem okay burying him there. A harsh pinch to your nipple makes you cry. You lift your head and widen your legs just a bit, hearing him deeply inhale before sticking his tongue out again. " 'm so sensitive, Jeong. You're gonna make me cum again." Jeongin opens his eyes. You love the wild look in them. How they look stuck between desire and chaos. You've always loved the slenderness of them. Even now, wide, blown-out, and almost terrifying, it makes you drip onto the sheets. On a bed that isn't even yours. He moans, nodding and unable to say anything. He never speaks when he eats you out. Your taste is all too consuming. They're getting louder below, shouting and screaming so violently that you can barely make out what they're saying. Jeongin is the one the make it out first. He pops off your pussy quickly, a loud smack resonating in the room. You moan in loss, closing your legs in overstimulating and panting. The room quickly quiets from your lack of whining, but at least you can hear your friends below. Happy New Year! No way. No fucking way. How could you forget the whole reason you two went to Hyunjin's place? Jeongin runs a hand through his hair, face shinning in your wetness. "He's gonna be pissed." Hyunjin? "B-because we're on his bed? I'll wash the sheets and-" "No! Hyunjin asked me to be his New Years kiss and I said yes and- fuck! Why did I say that?!" You can't even laugh. Pleasure is still drumming in your veins and your half naked. "Wha-" "JEONGIN?? AYEN-AH?? JAGIYA?!" Now you laugh, but it's mixed with panic. Jeongin is lifting you off the bed and trying to make you look decent, but the drunken limbs are hardly any help. "Well, guess you're gonna have to tell Hyunjin your New Years kiss was to my pussy instead."

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tinyluvs · 2 days ago

Text

⁺‧₊˚ smoke and mirrors 𖤐 swiss&mountain˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; mountain is a little self conscious, swiss refuses to shut up about how perfect mountain really is, or mirror sex :3 ❥ warnings; anal sex, slight rimming, references to drugs, body worship (?), mirror sex, porn with feelings, idiots in love :) ❥ authors note; i don’t even know if like this anymore, enjoy !!!❥ wc; 5.4k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

smoke and steam collide in the air in front of mountain’s face as he exits the bathroom, steam pouring out from the humid room behind him while smoke billows from between swiss’ lips where he lays on his bed, his attention turning from his phone to mountain, half lidded eyes watching him in the mirror

“hey pretty boy,” swiss hums, his voice low and dangerous like it often is when he’s high, or at least getting there. his phone drops onto the mattress somewhere as he bustles, leaning slightly on his side to continue watching the earth ghoul as he ventures further into his room

mountain had forgotten to steal clothes from swiss’ dresser before his shower, leaving him without any other option than to come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around his bottom half. of course, swiss has seen everything that’s currently being hidden but those are different circumstances. regardless, swiss shamelessly stares at him, or rather more, his reflection, and mountain starts to heat up

a blush settles over his cheeks and he wonders if there’s any air left in the room at all. clean air, that isn’t milky with steam or smoke, that can filter into his lungs, which suddenly don’t seem to be filling up fast enough. holes burn into the back of his head as he reaches swiss’ dresser, tugging a drawer open in search of boxers, sweatpants, anything he can throw onto his body

“stop staring,” he murmurs as the red under his skin starts to travel down his neck, heating it’s path as it goes. he pulls out a pair of underwear and sweatpants, leaving them in a small pile on the top of the dresser while he searches for a shirt

swiss doesn’t stop staring, the holes in mountain’s head burning deeper and bigger by the second, “but how can i when you’re so handsome,” swiss teases, light and airy around a mouthful of smoke that coils up towards the ceiling

“i’m not,” mountain mumbles, pushing a drawer shut harder than he meant to, the entire piece of furniture tipping and bumping against the wall behind it. mountain whispers his reply, like he didn’t want swiss to hear it, though he does, he always does

a gasp escapes swiss before he can stop it, incredulous and over exaggerated, like he’s heard something terrible but in his opinion, he has, a sin slipped from mountain’s lips, “oh but you are,” he finally says, watching the way mountain’s tail bats around nervously under his towel

they’ve been through this thing, this game, this conversation, several times. swiss will make a positive comment about mountain, how he looks, his personality, anything and every single time mountain will disagree with him, completely unwilling to see himself as his pack mates see him

if you were to ask any of them they’d be quick to talk, beaming about how gentle and generous he is, how helpful and sweet or how handsome he is, desired by everyone that has had the pleasure of laying eyes on him and more often than not their compliments will be wrapped up with a gentle bow of love, all of them declaring just how much they love him

but, mountain will never accept any of these things, will brush them off, never once accepting a compliment that’s sent his way and that, in itself, no one would even consider to be one of his flaws because to them, he is without flaws, a perfect being in their eyes

“i’m not,” mountain argues back to swiss again, the blush fully blooming over his chest now. his search for a shirt goes forgotten about, his fingers busying themselves in a tray of rings on top of the dresser, swirling between cool metal while he attempts to distract himself from the conversation at hand

swiss sighs, not angry or with malice but slow and upset, something that settles deep in his chest with an ache, “mount-,”

mountain anticipates what is about to happen, what is about to be said and wants no part of it, “no,” he simply says, swiping the small pile of clothes from the dresser as he turns, refusing to even look in swiss’ direction before bundling himself back into the bathroom, the door clicking shut quietly behind him

it appears that there’s no air in the bathroom either as mountain leans against the door and wills his lungs to fill just enough for him to function normally. the clothes drop from under his arm, barely missing a puddle on the tiled floor as they fall into a heap next to his feet

condensation drips down the mirror, still fogged up and hiding his reflection from him, he prefers it this way though, not being forced to see the abundance of freckles that spread unevenly over his cheeks and chest or the way his antlers are slightly lopsided, one branching outwards while the other turns slightly upwards at the end instead

he’s not sure how long he stands staring at a blurred reflection of himself but if it wasn’t blurred it would be long enough that his brain would have completely distorted the image by now, twisting his reflection into something he wouldn’t even recognise but he would be convinced that it’s correct

gentle knocking on the door makes him jump, his body jerking as his head snaps away from the mirror, “mount, you okay in there?” swiss asks, his voice is gentle, steady and even but mountain flushes with the idea he’s made the multi ghoul worried, about him of all things

“u-uh yeah, i’ll be out in a minute,” he stumbles over his words as he turns, grabbing the pile of clothes from the floor as his towel takes their place. he hurries to dress himself, tugging boxers over his still damp thighs, the feeling makes him cringe but he refuses to make swiss wait any longer, let his concern build any further

when he finally opens the door he’s met with swiss, the multi ghoul leaning in the doorway with his head tilted and resting against the frame and a soft smile tugging at his lips, “hey,” he says, barely a whisper, his eyes never leaving mountains, though he doesn’t stare this time, his eyes fluttering shut in slow drawn out blinks

“hello,” mountain mumbles, his eyes tracking swiss’ hand as he pulls it out of his pocket and uncurls in the small space between them, palm open and facing upwards, an invitation. mountain flicks his gaze from swiss hand up to his face where the multi ghoul just nods, his hand making a slight grabbing motion in mountain’s peripheral

mountain drops his hand into swiss’, tension slipping away from his shoulders as swiss’ fingertips brush at his wrist. the feeling dances a line of being too ticklish but mountain likes it, his wrist getting heavier in swiss’ hold as he melts into the movement

silently swiss pulls on his wrist, not hard but enough to guide him out of the bathroom and towards his bed and mountain lets him, even as swiss turns them and walks him backwards until his calves are bumping the edge of the bed, prompting him to sit

he sits and looks up at swiss, who nudges his thighs apart to stand between them. smoke clouds around his head like a makeshift halo, which is ironic considering the tips of his horns are piercing through the thick air, creating clean lines in between the fog

swiss’ hands settle softly on the side of mountain’s neck, thumbs brushing the length of his jaw as he shuffles closer, close enough that the earth ghouls chin rests against the softness of his tummy, just under his navel, “so pretty,”

this time swiss doesn’t sound like he’s trying to prove a point, like he’s trying to convince mountain of it but instead like he’s thinking out loud, like his thoughts have grown legs and walked right out of his mouth before he could swallow them down and stop them

mountain chooses not to argue this time, so, he stays silent. his eyelashes kiss his cheeks and his fingers pick at a loose thread on the side seam of swiss’ sweatpants, content in his mates hold. swiss’ fingers drift from his jaw, sliding back to tangle into the hair at the base of his neck,

“you’re pretty,” mountain blurts awkwardly, one too many beats of silence between them that make his stomach knot but swiss smiles when he finally opens his eyes to look up at him and the knot unravels

“yeah? you think so?” swiss whispers, still smiling as he bends. the tip of his nose brushes against mountain’s before swiss tilts slightly to his left, lining their mouths up, hovering inches apart but he doesn’t act on it, not until mountain nods at his question and tilts his chin up

something swoops low in mountain’s belly when swiss kisses him, it always does but more often than not they’re caught up in a haze of lust, nipping and grabbing at each other so mountain has never had the time to fully process the swoop but while swiss holds his face so gently, like he’s terrified of breaking the bigger ghoul somehow, mountain feels it properly

he gasps softly, lips parted for less than a second before swiss is slotting between them to kiss at his bottom lip slowly. mountain’s back straightens, electric zapping up his spine while he pushes up into the kiss, his fingers pinching and pulling at the side of swiss’ pants

both ghouls' hands start to wander when swiss licks across mountain’s lip, tasting earthy in that way marijuana does and it’s all too enticing for mountain, a soft groan spills from his mouth. his fingers slide up the sides of swiss’ thighs until they reach his hips, squeezing lightly at the same time swiss squeezes at his shoulders

swiss isn’t sure if he pushes or mountain pulls but either way he ends up in the earth ghouls lap, his thighs pressing to mountains hips while mountain tugs him closer, arms looping around the multi ghouls back

“you’re,” swiss pauses, a little breathless as he breaks their kiss, “so fucking pretty,” he finishes, spoken like a mantra against a smattering of freckles just underneath mountain’s jaw. his lips trail further south, dancing along mountain’s neck and the top of his shoulder

mountain hums in a noncommittal way, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as his head tilts back to bare more of his neck to swiss. he starts to soften with swiss’ weight on top of him, slouching until he’s toppling back and dragging swiss with him, both of them bouncing lightly when mountain’s back hits the mattress

when swiss eventually pulls back from mountain’s neck, satisfied with the few purple marks he’s leaving behind, he looks blissed out. his lips are kiss swollen, shiny with spit and his eyes, which have started to redden around the edges, are somehow lit on fire with lust and twinkly with love, both at the same time

“look, how good you look right now,” swiss hums, sitting back on mountain’s thighs. the earth ghoul is splayed beneath him, antlers digging into the bed sheets, his hair a little tousled from swiss’ fingers, hazel green eyes blinking up at him in a question, swiss thinks he looks divine, “look,”

swiss takes hold on mountain’s jaw, turning and tilting his head until he’s looking back slightly over his shoulder and then, their eyes meet in the mirror. in the back of his mind mountain thinks the mirror has been moved, repositioned just for this, but he doesn’t have time to think as his cheeks start to heat up again

gently he tries to shake swiss off of him, allow himself to turn away from the mirror but swiss holds his jaw and his eye contact in their reflection. mountain lets his eyes wander a little, taking in swiss more than himself

swiss is painfully gorgeous, his horns aren’t lopsided, both of them curling back and then up towards the ceiling, identical twins, unlike the siblings mountain has on his head. little golden charms litter swiss’ hair, always managing to catch a light no matter where he is but as mountain’s eyes travel further down, away from his face, swiss starts to smirk

mountain takes in his shoulders, broad and muscly. his chest, the little bars that pierce his nipples and further south, past the softness of his tummy and then following the line of hair that disappears under swiss’ trouser line…

only then does mountain notice the tent forming in the front of swiss’ pants, the earth ghouls head turning away from their reflection, as if it’s lying to him, to look at the real thing and swiss lets him, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his hips lightly

as he rolls his cock bobs underneath his sweatpants, a small, miniscule even, damp patch starting to darken the light grey fabric and mountain’s mouth waters. his fingers move fast, sliding up swiss’ thick thighs and just as he’s about to get to where he wants to be, swiss wraps his fingers around his wrists

“wha-,” mountain whispers, blinking up at swiss and then back at where his wrists are being guided down to the mattress, either side of his head while swiss holds them there, “swiss,” he whines, bucking his hips up and nudging his own cock against swiss’ ass

swiss shakes his head, the charms in his hair tinkling quietly, “not about me,” swiss swallows, looking down at mountain while he does everything he can to not sit back on the earth ghouls, now, very hard cock, “just let me show you,”

before mountain can ask what he means, swiss turns his head again, bringing him back to looking in the mirror. he holds mountain’s jaw for only a second this time, satisfied he’s not going to bolt away from him, or at least he hopes he won’t because swiss is on a mission now

“let me,” he mumbles, pausing to swallow thickly, “show you,” he pauses again to kiss at the front of mountain’s neck, lips curling up when mountain groans right beneath his lips, “how pretty you are,” he finishes, eyes flickering up to make sure mountain’s still looking in the mirror

“okay,” mountain practically mouths the word, barely a whisper even passing his lips. he watches swiss shuffle back on his thighs, sucking in a breath between his teeth when the multi ghoul’s ass brushes directly over his cock

“good boy,” swiss praises, a low rumble that vibrates through mountain. the earth ghoul whines high, the desired effect swiss was going for as he lowers his mouth to mountain’s collarbone, immediately worrying the thin skin with his fangs. mountain whimpers when he starts to suck though, the swoop in his stomach returning as swiss works his way over his shoulders

a path of purple bruises mark out where swiss has been, starting on the earth ghouls neck, then travelling over his shoulders and collarbones and then swiss continues down, nipping teasingly at mountain’s nipples

mountain watches as he goes, see’s his own chest heaving, his stomach clenching when swiss sucks a bruise into his hip. watches his back arch as swiss drags his fangs across the lowest part of his belly, stopping briefly to nuzzle against the light hairs there and then unceremoniously, swiss gets off of mountain all together “lift up f’me,”

straight away his hips push up enough for swiss to tug his pants down. in the mirror he sees his cock spring free, hissing when the sticky tip slaps his belly, no doubt smearing precum over his skin, though at the angle he’s at, he can’t quite see

fortunately, swiss can see mountain’s cock, thick and fat where it lays against his stomach. the tip of his cock is flushed red, leaking pre into a little puddle and swiss can’t help himself. he swipes his finger through the mess, whistling low to himself as he does and then looks into the mirror to find mountain’s gaze already locked onto him

with a smile that’s all fang and cheekiness, swiss licks at his finger, cleaning it of mountain’s slick while the earth ghoul’s jaw drops, his eyes widening, “fuck swiss,” he whines, fingers twisting into the sheets

“uh huh,” swiss hums around his finger before pulling it from his mouth with a lewd pop. his tongue darts across his bottom lip, refusing to waste even a single drop of mountain, “you gonna keep watching for me?”

mountain nods, at a loss of what to say while he’s stuck, well, he’s not really. he could get up at any point but he doesn’t want to, especially not as swiss holds his gaze and slowly sinks to his knees between mountain’s thighs

“fuck, your thighs,” swiss groans, turning his head to lick a thick stripe from mountain’s knee, all the way up, his breath fanning against mountain’s heavy balls. the earth ghoul jerks a little, his own breath held in anticipation as he watches swiss’ head dip further down between his legs

the spade of swiss’ tail cuts through the air, catching mountain’s eyes and distracting him as swiss leans in and attaches his lips to the inside of mountain’s thigh, “shit,” mountain hisses, his hand shooting down to grab at swiss’ hair

swiss smirks against his skin, opening his mouth to lick and drag his fangs, red lines streaking up and down mountain’s thighs “pretty boy with the perfect fuckin’ thighs,” swiss sighs and mountain’s cock throbs, a little string of slick connecting the tip of his cock to the puddle just underneath it

in the mirror swiss reappears, his chin almost resting on mountain’s thigh, “pretty boy,” he moans, inching closer and closer to mountain, “with the perfect cock,”

mountain keens as swiss doesn’t give him a chance to process his words before he’s licking up the underside of his cock, from root to tip in one wet movement. his tongue swirls up and around mountain’s throbbing tip until he’s dragging his tongue against his slit

“swiss, f-fuck,” mountain pants, rolling his hips up to smear his cock against swiss lips, nudging them apart just enough for swiss to suck. a shudder wracks it’s way through mountain’s body, swiss watching in the mirror as it happens, the earth ghouls eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he’s looking directly into swiss’ eyes

the fucker winks at him, swiss actually winks at him before starting to bob his head, inching mountain’s cock into his hot mouth all too slowly, the tip of his tongue tracing a vein as he goes

it’s no secret that mountain is big, in all senses of the word. his cock is thick and long, something that most struggle with. some only being able to suck him down half way, their hands jerking off what they can’t fit. but swiss always takes him to the base, opening his throat and breathing through his nose as it presses to the soft hairs around the base of mountains cock

“oh my, fuck-ing hell, swiss,” mountain chokes on his words, his cock kicking in swiss’ mouth as the multi ghoul nods his head ever so slightly, grinding the tip of mountain’s cock against the inside of his throat

swiss’ eyes start to water, a fat tear running down his cheek just as mountain pulls on his hair, pulling swiss off of his cock with a pop. drool drips from the corners of swiss’ mouth as he sucks in a breath, “y-your cock,” he all but heaves, “fills me up so fucking well,”

mountain cries, his eyes leaving the mirror as his head tilts back and his hips buck up. swiss smirks to himself in the mirror, one of his hands pressing to his own cock which, admittedly, is starting to ache. he squeezes lightly at himself through his pants while he waits for mountains eyes to meet his again

“hey,” swiss says after a minute, tapping his fingers on the inside of mountain’s thigh. the earth ghoul looks down between his thighs but swiss shakes his and nods towards the mirror, “there we go,” he chirps when mountain turns his head

the angle they’re at hides where swiss’ fingers are dancing up the backs of mountain’s thighs, pressing into his skin, “hold them,” swiss tells mountain but the earth ghoul stares blankly at him, his brain moving far to slow for verbal instructions

so, swiss helps him out. he pushes moutain’s thighs back and watches their reflection, mountain gasps and jumps, his own hands curling around the backs of his thighs to keep himself spread and presented nicely

truth be told, mountain’s neck is really starting to hurt but if he moves, swiss will move and swiss is looking at him like he’s prey, his final meal, something but swiss? swiss is watching mountain’s perfect little hole, shiny and dripping with slick as it clenches around nothing

“damn it, you’re perfect,” swiss growls, his brain unable to come up with anything softer or sweeter as he dives in, pressing his tongue flat against mountain’s rim, “so,” he pauses to pull back, just enough to spit on the ring of muscle, “fucking perfect,”

and then he dives back in, leaving mountain to wail as swiss laps at him. the tip of his tongue teases, around and around, just soaking him and getting him dripping with spit and slick. his fingers inch closer, slipping between mountain’s hole and his mouth, “fuck, give it to me, please,” mountain whimpers

“yeah? you need it that bad?” swiss teases, cocking his head to the side in the mirror but, he’s not really teasing because he’s already pressing the tip of his finger into mountain and as the earth ghoul relaxes, just like he always does, swiss’ finger starts to sink into him

“o-oh, swiss,” mountain whines, though he’s not really sure what for but swiss hums and presses his lips to mountain’s thigh gently anyway, “move or, fuck, do something, “swiss,”

swiss kisses his thigh once more and then starts to slip his finger out, right to the tip before pushing back in, both ghouls groaning over the slick wet slide of it. mountain clenches down hard, his thighs tensing in his palms as swiss starts to finger him open, a second finger already teasing to slip in next to the first

slick drips down swiss’ finger and into the palm of his hand and he groans, his cock spitting pre that soaks into his pants, “oh shit,” swiss groans, tipping his head back to the ceiling, which mountain see’s in the mirror though he can’t see why swiss is doing it

“another, gim-give me another,” mountain huffs, doing his best to wiggle his hips and press his ass into the fingers teasing around his taut rim. he’s about to open his mouth again, to beg for it but swiss gets to him first, pulling his finger out and as he slides back in, a second joins alongside the first

mountain’s cock jerks against his tense stomach at the slight stretch, his back arching a little and though he may never admit it, being made to watch himself being taken apart is curling a dangerous heat through his stomach at an alarming rate

“so good, so fucking perfect,” swiss mumbles, entraced by the way mountain’s stretched perfectly around his fingers. he twists his wrist just right, crooks his fingers just so and drags his fingertips over mountain’s prostate

a gurgle leaves mountain’s throat, his eyes pinching shut while swiss watches his reflection, his own cock throbbing at the whole scene. in theory it’s filthy but somehow between them it doesn’t feel that way in the slightest, it’s just swiss and mountain, his mountain

“please, oh fuck, yeah there-,” mountain pants as swiss taps and rubs at his prostate before starting to scissor his fingers slowly, “fuck me swiss, need it s’bad,” mountain rambles, his thighs starting to tremble, vibrate almost, in his hands

normally swiss would at least try and work a third finger in, get mountain nice and loose but swiss isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out and he imagines mountain is starting to feel the same way, judging by the endless stream of pre leaking from his cock, which has flushed a gorgeous shade of purple

“y-yeah, okay,” swiss murmurs, slowly pulling his fingers from mountain’s body, growling at the slick wet sound that comes with it. on shaky legs and achy knees he stands between mountain’s thighs, “get on your knees,” swiss rushes to say as he folds over mountain to kiss him quickly, his free hand going south to palm at his own throbbing cock

mountain scrambles while swiss shoves his pants down, kicking them across the floor before joining mountain on the bed, “no c’mere,” swiss groans and grabs at mountain. the earth ghoul had been on his knees, just like swiss had asked but he wasn’t facing the right way

it’s not quite manhandling but swiss is moving mountain to exactly where he wants him, lined up in front of him, mountain’s sweaty back against his chest, directly in front of the mirror “fuck, look at you,” swiss swallows, looking over mountain’s shoulder at their reflection

he looks a sight for sore eyes, his hair is well and truly messed up now but still, somehow, it looks right. his torso is littered with bruises and little red lines and scratches left by swiss’ fangs. his cock hangs heavy, still dripping and if swiss looks real close, he’s sure he can see it pulsing

“perfect,” swiss sighs, turning to nuzzle his nose just behind mountain’s ear, he presses a quick kiss there and then slides his palm up mountain’s spine, pressing down until the earth ghoul bends forwards, planting his hands into the mattress to steady himself. swiss grinds his hips forwards, loudly hissing when his cock slips against mountain’s ass, warm and so, so, fucking wet

mountain is once again forced to watch in anticipation, thankfully this time without an ache building in his neck. swiss grinds back and forth, one of his hands on mountain’s shoulder while the other wraps around his own cock. he taps the sticky head of his cock to mountain’s puckered rim and then lines himself up

“fuck, ye-yes,” mountain’s jaw hangs slack as swiss pushes forward, an extra stretch from the slight lack of prep but it burns just on the right side of pain. mountain’s heat overwhelms swiss almost immediately, the multi ghoul having to still with just the head of his cock splitting mountain open, “please,” mountain whines, not quite realising why swiss is stopping

“i will, just give me a second,” swiss whispers through clenched teeth but, mountain doesn’t feel very much like waiting any longer. slowly but surely he presses back onto swiss, sliding himself down swiss’ length while the multi ghoul grunts and digs his fingers into mountain’s shoulders, “fuck mount,” he nearly shouts

the wrecked sound they both make when mountain fully sits himself back on swiss is loud, rattling off all four walls in the room, “oh fuckfuckfuck,” mountain’s head hangs, his chin touching his chest while his body adjusts, thankfully he doesn’t move otherwise swiss might have accidentally cut this whole thing tragically short

swiss’ tail wraps around mountain’s torso, pinning their bodies together, forcing mountain upright against swiss as the multi ghouls hand snakes up his body, wrapping gently around his neck, his thumb and finger at mountain’s jaw, “look,” swiss whispers against his ear

with a little whine, mountain looks, immediately moaning when he does. swiss is watching him over his shoulder, eyes burning into his again but mountain doesn’t look away this time, even as a blush spreads over his face, neck and chest, “swiss, it’s bad luck to have a mirror facing a bed,” mountain points out, a little high and whiny with an attempt to grind his ass back onto swiss

swiss chuckles against his shoulder, “well i’m feeling pretty fuckin’ lucky right now,” and then finally, he starts to move, slowly albeit, shallow thrusts that barely grind his cock into mountain but neither are particularly bothered, groaning and panting loudly at the slightest movements.

“fuck me, properly,” mountain asks after a minute, feeling maybe a little bit bold but the way his cheeks burn regardless isn’t lost on swiss. mountain wraps a loose fist around his own cock, humping his hips forwards and that jumpstarts swiss, the multi ghoul pulling back slightly before canting forwards to meet mountain’s thrusts in the middle

“you, are, so, fucking, perfect,” swiss chants, each word punctuated with a thrust that mountain feels in his chest, air being punched from his lungs every time their bodies meet with a clap of skin on skin, “perfect boy, my perfect boy,”

tears slip from mountain’s eyes, his free hand reaching back to slide around swiss’ thigh, squeezing tight and grounding himself, “yours,” he repeats with a cry, his hand practically flying over his sticky cock as he hurtles towards his orgasm

swiss tuts, shakes his head in the mirror, “my what?” he asks before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes flickering down to watch his cock slipping in and out of mountain’s tight clutch, “say it mountain,” he prompts and sinks his weight into his knees, tilts his hips up just right and on the next thrust he nails his cock right against mountain’s prostate, “say. it.”

mountain sobs, “i-i’m yo-, oh fuck,” he trails off into a whine, panting and shaking as his hand jerks over his cock with earnest. swiss presses his fangs to the top of mountain’s shoulders, eyes burning into him in the mirror, “fuck swiss, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fu-cking cum,”

“not until you say it,” swiss huffs, willing his own orgasm to hold off for just a minute even though it’s right there. swiss’ hand slides from mountain’s neck to his hair, pulling back enough for swiss to get his teeth dragging against his neck, “say you’re perfect, say you’re mine, then you can cum,”

“fuck!” mountain shouts, squeezing his eyes shut and letting fat tears drip down his cheeks, “i’m yours, i’m yours, your perfect boy,” he rambles through a heave and swiss growls, doubling down before he even finishes the sentence

swiss fucks into him hard and maybe a little too fast, causing mountain to hold on, his fingers digging into swiss’ thigh more than enough to leave dotted bruises, “fuck yeah you are,” swiss groans, listening to the little ruined sounds mountain’s making, “gonna cum f’me?”

mountain nods, as best he can with swiss’ hand wound tight into his hair but words are useless to him, just a myriad of garbled sounds tumbling past his lips. he clenches impossibly tight around swiss, a little close to shoving the multi ghoul out completely but swiss drives forwards, bumps the tip of his cock against where mountain needs him most and they both fall

“fucking, oh fuck, shi-t mountain,” swiss rambles when, in the mirror, mountain’s cock starts to squirt, thick ropes of cum splashing over the bed in front of them, soaking puddles into the fabric, “o-oh fuck,”

swiss’ cock twitches deep inside mountain and then the damn breaks, spilling hot and entirely too fast as he does his best to fuck mountain through it, “oh, oh fuck, oh,” mountain shudders with overstimulation, his body feeling like a live wire as swiss’ cum floods into him with each little thrust

eventually the little humped thrusts stop, both boys spent and panting as mountain sinks back against swiss, his head rolling back onto swiss’ shoulder. little puffs of air fan over swiss’ ear as mountain whimpers quietly. a stray tear runs down the earth ghouls cheek though it doesn’t get far before swiss reaches up to swipe it away

the tail holding their bodies together loosens and falls away, hanging limp behind swiss with little to no current purpose, “i love you,” swiss pants, his body bending as he rests his forehead between mountain’s shoulder blades, “perfect boy,”

mountain nods, doesn’t argue, doesn’t even want to as their bodies sway together, “i love you too,” he confesses what swiss already knows, quietly, while swiss maneuvers them into a sort of pile on the bed, their faces towards each other, no mirror in sight, “what?” mountain whispers when swiss smiles wide, all fang and teeth, his tongue peeking out between them

swiss takes in a deep breath and then peppers kisses all over mountain’s face, “perfect, perfect, mine, all mine, perfect,” he mumbles after every little kiss and then as swiss swoops in to kiss him properly,

“my perfect boy”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

𖤐 ghouls masterlist 𖤐 lemme know if there’s any mistakes 😅

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thesassypadawan · 3 days ago

Text

Santa Tell Me (A.J. x Button!Reader)

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and you except your boyfriend of year to pop the question…again. However, before he can…you surprise him with a special gift of your own.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the fluff with a bit of the smut. Fun from behind (giddy up), misuse of a jolly old elf’s hat, size diff, ho ho hoe lingerie, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Holidays, lovelies! Welcome to track seven of my special holiday mix, Santa Tell Me! ❤️💚

(Merry Christmas, @everydaydreamer! And thank you for making the perfect pic for this! 🎅)

- ‘Santa, tell me if you're really there… Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…’

- One big hand comes to settle on your hip, squeezing gently. The other taking your smaller one, lazily lacing and intertwining your fingers together. Swaying you both slowly back and forth to the familiar, festive music. Blue eyes locked with yours in the mirror’s reflection; gaze warm, affectionate…loving.

- “Look absolutely flawless, doll,” he mutters. Voice low and gravelly, rumbling deep in his chest…through your petite frame. Goosebumps forming on your skin…and not from the nonexistent chill in the air. “Gorgeous like always, ‘cept it’s missin’ one thing.”

- You knew all too well where the conversation was going. In the short year you two have been an item, you’ve heard it at least a dozen or so times. The same sweet, endearing request; accompanied by the same little, velvet box. That he seems to make appear out of nowhere, just like…

- “Oh, baby,” you sigh, hint of sadness in your words. Watching A.J. pull it out from his vest pocket, fiddle and roll it with his long digits. “I know you want to marry me bad, but…”

- Words fall short when he pops the lid open. Revealing not a ring. Instead what was easily the most beautiful, breathtaking opal necklace you’ve ever seen.

- “I know, I know…‘we’ll see’,” he chuckles. Repeating your usual response, while helping you put it on. Calloused fingertips brushing, lingering for an extra moment or two on the nape of your neck. “Someday though, it’s gonna be…‘yes’.”

- Slight smile pulling at the corners of your pink tinted lips. As you admire the way it sparkles in the twinkling light, the fact he remembered the significance of this stone. At the amount of faith, patience he has in and when it comes to you. Plus a few other things. “Yeah…we’ll see.”

- Shrugging, leaning down he places a tender kiss on your cheek…the top of your head. “Come on, we better get goin’.” Before straightening up once more, giving a quick tap to your perfect bottom. “Don’t wanna be too late to the party.”

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

- All evening long, you’re very much an inseparable pair. Never one without the other, practically glued together at the hip.

- With you holding onto, pressing into his side. Peppermint swirled nails occasionally trailing up his spine, gently scratching a certain spot between his shoulder blades. That has him grunting softly in appreciation…those lean muscles contorting, relaxing beneath your welcomed touch.

- As for him, well… Hardly a minute passes when he doesn't have an arm wrapped around your waist or a palm resting on the small of your back. Fingers rubbing, massaging. Sometimes traveling a bit lower, under the hem of your cocktail dress when he thinks no one is looking…drawing out a tiny, muffled squeak from you each time.

- But on the rare instance when you weren’t attached to your better half. You could be spotted with the rest of the ladies. Mingling, being asked, more like grilled, on whether you finally caved…finally gave him the answer he wants to hear and officially join their patchwork family.

- “We’ll see,” you would reply simply and politely. Smiling coyly over the rim of your glass, at his turned back from across the room. Watching as he folded another hand in the guys’ silly card game. Listening to him echo your own words, undoubtedly given the same question.

- All in all, he whole night went by in what feels like a blur. Of hearty laughs, variety of decadent treats, one too many cups of good cheer…a few stolen kisses below the mistletoe. And, soon enough, you find yourself tugging on A.J.’s hand. Bring him level, whispering in his ear for you to be whisked home. Where the real party could begin, the best part yet to come…his last gift.

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

- Crashing through the front door, nearly chipping the paint and knocking a picture off the wall. Tongues tangled, lips meshed together in perfect harmony. With your digits unabashedly pulling at his belt, fumbling for his fly. And his slipping beneath the folds of your skirt; seeking out that string of mysterious, elusive lace felt during his earlier escapades.

- “Don’t be stingy, sweetheart,” he murmurs between heated kisses. Hand inching ever higher, palm cupping and kneading a sweet cheek. “It’s already after midnight.” Thumb nonchalantly hooking, fiddling with the delicate fabric teasingly…letting it snap. “Wanna open my present.”

- Jumping slightly, a squeal mixed with an excited giggle bubble up from your throat. “Mmmh, all right.” All the while rubbing, massaging that delectable bulge; enticing it to grow, strain the front of his trousers. “Since you’ve been such a good boy this year.” Giving it one last gentle squeeze, earning one more grunt. Before…

- Gone for only a hot minute or two, you return to find him lounging naked on the couch. Arms draped over the back lazily, long legs spread casually. Santa hat perched perfectly, barely covering his candy cane and sack of goodies. “That’s certainly a look, J.”

- Smirking, rising to his feet. He keeps the jolly old elf’s cap securely in place as he saunters over, comes to meet you in front of the panoramic window. Fingertips tangling, playing with the ribbon wound and tied perfectly around… “Says the woman wearin’ paper like a dress.”

- Anticipating the inevitable sassy quip that would undoubtedly come, he acts quickly and smoothly. “Not that I’m complain’.” Bending, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Lavishing your sugar cookie scented skin in love bites and nips. “Or grateful.”

-As he tears away, takes his time. Savoring, slowly and carefully unwrapping. “Musta been real good.” Revealing the sexy, little ho-ho-hoe number that lay beneath. “To deserve somethin’ this sweet…”

- Skillfully and in a single, fluid motion. A.J. whirls, twirls you to the music that plays softly in the background. “…exquisite…” Pushing you against the cool glass. Pinning and holding, encompassing you completely with his larger frame. Stocking hat left forgotten on the floor, laying amongst the shreds of discarded paper. “…wonderful like ya.”

- Eyes hungrily sweep and take in your red, tulle clad form. Meeting, locking with yours in the reflective surface. “Now, on them tip-toes, baby doll…” Palm smoothing down your semi- clothed back, following the intricate details and patterns of the bustier. Settling on your hip, tugging on it a bit too roughly. “…lemme try out my new toy.”

- Eagerly you ease, precariously balance on them. Sparks of anticipation bursting, bemused smile crossing your face. Watching him still have to slouch, crouch slightly. To align himself with your aching entrance. “Sure you’re not too big for this one?”

- Laying tender, adoring kisses along your spine. His free hand finds, gropes a pert breast. “Nah, not too big.” Thumb swirls, fingertips rolls and pinches your pebbled bud. Fat tip prods, teases at your soaked folds core. “Always liked my playthings to be a little on the small…” Surging forward, steadily stretching. Forcing your tight cunny to open with his thick cock. “Fuck…side.”

- Moaning, whimpering…nails scramble, scratch lightly. Palms flatten, brace against the steamed-up glass. While he thrusts, pounds into you unbridled and wild. Toned chest pressed to, resting his full weight onto you. A.J. looms above, grunting and groaning in your ear each time he bottoms out. Increasing his pace with every powerful drive.

- “So…shit…” Bullying and hitting, bruising your cervix over and over. “Lemme get…” The heat rises, pools in the pit of your stomach. “Lemme get this straight…” Peak approaching swiftly, gummy walls fluttering and burning. “You’ll become the Clause Man’s wife before m-mine?”

- Body tenses, goes ridged. Starts to shake from all the overwhelming pleasure that courses through. “Who…who said that wasn’t you…” You can feel him twitching and throbbing. Shuddering as he draws closer to his own release, mind-numbing orgasm. “That you’re not San-San…”

- Slamming hard, you both cry out in bliss. You clamping and clenching, gushing all over him. While he paints your insides a sticky, snowy white; stuffing your little stocking nice and full.

- Panting, knees shaking. He helps you back down onto your feet. Immediately wrapping, swallowing up your unsteady form in his strong arms. Laughing happily and joyfully. Peppering the top of your crown in frantic, loving kisses. All because you finally agreed. Said the one thing he’s been waiting to hear since he first presented you with that little, velvet box. “Then I guess ya better call me Santa… Mrs. Clause.”

- Bursting out into a fit of giggles, sporting an elated grin. You tilt your head back, teasing playfully…finally getting in a smart remark. “So, Santa…tell me what else you want?”

- “Yeah, actually.” Mirroring your smile, he starts to lazily rock…buck and rut again. “I could think of one thing or two. Maybe even three.”

- Santa, tell me if he really cares… 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year…’

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @erosmutt, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove, @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj

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pathological-runaway · 2 days ago

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“Isle? But it’s so… empty.” You spend the next three hours wandering aimlessly across the sand dunes looking for anything that could make anyone prefer Isle to Prairie or Valley or even Wasteland. You get liking a place for its beauty or for its charm, and you almost understand enjoying it because of danger. But liking something that’s so empty, just sand and broken boats? It’s beyond your comprehension. The mystery of loving Isle of Dawn doesn’t leave your mind for days, yet, despite all your efforts, you don’t see what’s so special about the lifeless desert.

read the fic here or below the cut

“You alright?” they ask, sitting down on a bench. It’s nice to finally have a chance to talk to them.

“Yeah. Thanks for helping me.”

“You’re welcome!”

A pause. You should say something. You really should. But what?

“What’s your favourite realm?” you ask because you don't know any other way to keep a conversation going.

“Isle of Dawn.”

You’re confused.

“Isle? But it’s so… empty.”

They shrug.

“A little. But it’s nice.”

You spend the next three hours wandering aimlessly across the sand dunes looking for anything that could make anyone prefer Isle to Prairie or Valley or even Wasteland. You get liking a place for its beauty or for its charm, and you almost understand enjoying it because of danger. But liking something that’s so empty, just sand and broken boats? It’s beyond your comprehension.

Sure, the sunrise looks nice, but there’s not much to it, especially after you’ve seen it a couple of times.

You return to the village, confused.

***

The mystery of loving Isle of Dawn doesn’t leave your mind for days, yet, despite all your efforts, you don’t see what’s so special about the lifeless desert.

***

“What’s up, little one? You seem down. Is everything alright?”

You sip your juice sadly.

“Thanks, Candlemaker, I’m fine. I’m just thinking.”

The spirit sits down next to you, a radiant smile on their face. They’re kind and warm and it makes you a little sad for some reason. It would be nice to have someone this kind by your side all the time. But they’re a spirit, they stay in Aviary and never travel anywhere other than the starry sky. They have a family there, you recall. A partner and a child.

Their child is lucky to have a parent like them.

“Anything I can help you with?” they ask.

“I don’t know. About a week ago, someone told me their favourite place was Isle, but I don’t understand why. There’s nothing there but sand.”

Pointing Candlemaker thinks for a while, tapping their fingers on the counter.

“Well, Isle hasn’t always been like this, you know.”

For some reason, you've never thought of this. It’s easy to picture Prairie with all the buildings intact, or Valley in its past glory. Even Wasteland keeps traces of what was there before the world ended.

But Isle?

“It wasn’t?” you ask incredulously.

Candlemaker shifts in their seat to get more comfortable.

“Oh, you would’ve loved what it looked like before…” they start, and it seems that they’re never going to stop.

You listen to them carefully for an entire hour until you fall asleep to the rhythm of their voice.

You dream of starry nights and flowers and lying in soft grass.

***

You visit Isle again the day after. It's still empty, but if you look closely, your imagination paints a picture over the empty hills.

You see grass, just like that growing near the Temple. You see flowers — they’re neither big nor very bright, but their soft hues are beautiful, and you never expected this beauty to be hidden right here. You feel a cool summer breeze coming from the endless sea and hear a tinkle of bells in the distance.

You still think Isle is empty, but it’s good to know there’s more to it than you previously thought.

***

You’re lying in the grass on the roof of the Nesting shop, trying to discern a constellation in the sky. It’s tricky.

“Looking at the stars?” you hear a voice and sit up.

“Yeah…” you reply shyly.

“Is it alright if I join?” they ask, their eyes shining.

“It is. But, uhm… I think I’m bad at this,” you confess, fidgeting with your hands, “I haven’t found a single constellation yet.”

“Oh, it’s OK! I could show you if you want! It took me a while to learn to notice them, too.”

The smile on their face is so big you start smiling as well.

“Thank you. It would be great.”

You both lie down and study the stars. After some time, you ask:

“Stargazer, can you tell me about Isle?”

And they do.

You listen attentively and when you return to your nest, you think of vast seas and shooting stars and sitting quietly at the shore.

***

You go to Isle again and sit down on a stone, contemplating the ocean. When you close your eyes, you can picture a landscape so pretty you wish you could stay there forever.

You see waves kissing the sand on the coast. You hear birds singing nearby and a child laughing by your side. You imagine them playing with small rocks and building a tower. You feel a chilly wind coming from behind you as the sun goes down.

When you open your eyes, Isle is so painfully empty you consider never returning.

***

“Wow, that looks heavy! Mind if I help?”

You nod, and the spirit takes half of the boxes.

“Thanks, Voyager,” you breathe out.

“No problems, mate. Where are you taking all this stuff?”

“Harmony Hall. Frantic Stagehand asked me to collect all the instruments from the Concert Hall to get them checked. I guess I overestimated my muscles,” you add as your whole body screams at you.

“No worries kid, it happens. Let’s get going before you get arthritis or something.”

You start arguing that it isn’t actually how you get arthritis and that you’re too young anyway, and they laugh.

“I know, I know. Just kidding. Don't take it too seriously. Come on, no dawdling!”

When all the boxes are in their place, you don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

“Voyager, do you have anything nice to tell me about Isle of Dawn?”

They do. You sit down on the bench in the hall and listen to them talk, while some younger kids practice music clumsily in the background.

As you teach a little mothling how to hold the guitar correctly, you ponder on flying boats and birds and believing in a brighter future.

***

You come to Isle once again when you have time. You fly all the way to the Temple and look down at the desert. If you look closely, you notice things you’ve never paid attention to.

You see flying boats, big and majestic, carrying people to where you’re standing. You see kids playing, adults chatting, happy and enthusiastic and looking forward to arriving wherever they’re going. You hear birds chirping happily and guiding the travellers. The wind is rising. You see mantas flying — funny how you didn’t even know there were mantas is Isle.

There are no more.

A tear runs down your face. Isle is so empty now. So, so empty.

***

You sit by the bonfire with Passage Guide, Tumbling Troublemaker and a few mothlings. The marshmallows are tasty and the stories everyone’s telling are fun.

Oddball Outcast accidentally throws their ball into the fire, and everyone’s laughing while Passage Guide is indignant. You know they’re not actually angry.

You’re laughing along as you realise Isle has never been empty. You just couldn’t see it.

***

“I always get lost in these dunes,” your mothling says, frustrated.

“Don’t worry, you’ll memorise the path one day,” you pat them on the shoulder.

Have kids always been so small?

“I hope so. Thanks for guiding me.”

You smile at them.

“Oh, no problem! I like helping people out! The next one’s on the ledge.”

You land near the light and wait for the mothling to collect it.

“Do we have to do this every time?”

“Yes. It gets easier after a few tries though.”

They don’t look encouraged.

“Hey,” you say, getting down on one knee to look them in the face, “everyone moves at their own pace. It’s alright to learn things slowly. Stars, you can’t even imagine how lost I was at the beginning. I refused to leave Forest because I’d seen a red shard behind the Temple and though it was what Valley was like!”

You laugh, and the kid smiles.

“That’s silly.”

“Yeah. But it’s more fun this way, isn’t it?”

They think for some time.

“I suppose it is.”

And then,

“What’s your favourite realm?”

You can’t help but laugh again. Oh, what a mothling thing to ask!

They remind you of yourself, in a way. Young, innocent, and having no idea how to keep a conversation going.

“Isle of Dawn,” you reply after a bit.

They frown.

“Isle? But it’s so… empty.”

You smile and close your eyes.

“A little. But it’s nice.”

___

if you enjoyed this one, don't hesitate to drop a kudos or a comment here or check out my other fics. thanks for reading and have an amazing day!

#1414 words of me being a fan of isle of dawn #and its spirits because they're cool #sky children of the light #sky cotl #runaway writes #isle of dawn #pointing candlemaker #ushering stargazer #rejecting voyager

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justagayperson-2024 · 9 hours ago

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Mirror Sex Jayce Talis x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1067

Enjoy!

As the dim lights of your bedroom cast a warm glow, you found yourself standing before a full-length mirror, your eyes locking with your own reflection. Your gaze shifted slightly to the side, looking over to the delicious Jayce Talis. His eyes, filled with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, met yours in the mirror. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead, framing his handsome face. He stood naked, his body on full display, waiting for your command. You admired his slender yet defined physique, the way his skin glistened under the soft lighting. You took a step closer to the mirror, your reflection now standing right behind his. Reaching out, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. "Relax, my love." you whispered seductively into his ear, your warm breath tickling his neck. “Be a good boy and touch yourself for me angel.” You whisper, kissing his back delicately. Obediently, he began to caress his own body, his fingers gliding down his chest, across his nipples, causing them to harden further. You watched in the mirror as his hands travelled lower, his fingers brushing against his flat stomach, inching closer to his throbbing cock. "That's it, my sweet boy," you encouraged, your voice growing huskier. “Remember though baby, no touching until I tell you.” He whimpered softly, his eyes closing briefly as he fought the urge to grasp his aching shaft. His hands paused at the top of his thighs, his fingers twitching, longing to wrap around his length. Your fingers danced down his side as you teased him. His soft whimpers were music to your ears. You tentatively wrapped your well manicured hand around his aching cock giving him a slow stroke. His eyes closed in pleasure as you continued your painfully slow pace. “Y/N, please..." he begged, his voice hoarse. "I need to feel you." You chuckled softly, a dominant laugh that sent shivers down his spine. "Not yet, my pet. We're not done playing." You abruptly stopped and began to walk in front of him. “Do try and stay a quiet pet.” You said playfully as you sank to your knees, instantly coming face to face with his angry red tip.

He moaned, his fingers trembling as he tried his best to keep them placed firmly on his thighs, palm down. You inched your face closer to his hard, throbbing cock before letting his tip slide past your lips. The groan that elicited from Jayce's lips was as sinful as they come. You moved to envelope him in your mouth, as much as you could, with the rest being stroked with your hand. The other hand was placed atop of Jayce's on his thigh to balance yourself. The pathetic whines and whimpers coming from Jayce's lips as you sucked his pretty dick off were going straight to your core. “Fuck Y/N…” He groaned as you played with his balls, his head falling back unable to comprehend how good he feels right now. “Shit..I'm so close..wanna cum in mommy.” Jayce babbled, not being able to completely understand what he's saying. You smirked as you popped him out of your mouth. Standing up you looked at how dishevelled Jayce looked, already so fucked out just from your mouth. “Mommy huh?” You teased, kissing along his chest. He moaned lustfully as he nodded pathetically. You guided him to the bed, flopping on your back as Jayce slots himself between your thighs. “You wanna cum in mommy baby boy?” You asked as you guided his leaking tip to your entrance. Jayce nodded as he buried his face in your neck, “Need it…please.” He begged pitifully. And who where you to deny such a polite request from such a pretty boy.

You wrapped your legs around his waist hinting for him to move and move he did, In on swift motion he nestled himself so deep inside your velvet walls. “Oh! Fuck momma.” Jayce cried as he bottomed out. Your cunt sucked him in so tightly, like it was meant for him, it took everything in him not to paint your insides then and there. “Gonna cum gods please!” Jayce mewled pitifully as he thrusted slowly in and out of you. “Wait for mommy baby, then we can cum together yeah? You wanna feel momma cum round your pretty cock?” You teased, grinding your hips down into his. He nodded frantically and started thrusting just the same. His hips met yours at such a brutal pace you knew that there would be bruises in the morning. Pulling his cock in and out of you with such precision, he was hitting your G-spot every time. At this rate, you weren’t lasting long. “Fuck angel, such a skilful cock. Jesus, you’re going to make Mommy cum so quick!” You cried out as he continued to nudge that special spot inside you. “Please mommy, it hurts..need to cum.” Jayce panted, his hot breath feeling heavy on your neck. “Cum for me baby boy, fill momma up.” You moan, feeling your release creep up on you. Jayce's pace slowed slightly before he slammed his hips into yours forcefully, burying himself deep inside your walls. “Fuck! mommy!” Jayce moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back into his head. His warm cum filled and coated your walls so intensely that it triggered your own release. “God Jayce!” You cried as you clamped down around Jayce's softening cock. The feeling of your walls clamping down around him, while not a new sensation, still caught him off guard every time. He buried himself deeper, if it were possible, inside you savouring the feeling of you cumming round his cock. “You did so good for me, Jayce; such a good boy for mommy.” You panted out as best you could, still coming down from your high. You gently patted his damp hair soothingly as Jayce slowly removed himself from you. A little nod and whine was all you got from Jacye as he cuddled up into your side. You both lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. “Shall we get a shower, my love?” You asked, kissing his still sweaty forehead. Jayce nodded, picking you up bridal style. “Round two?” He asked, kissing your ear softly. You blushed and nodded, knowing you were in for an eventful, sexual night.

#jayce talis #jayce arcane #jayce league of legends #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis x you #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane smut #arcane x you #arcane fanfic #smut #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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drenosa · 1 day ago

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This AU was spawned by @novankenn, with further additions from a few others.

After the Saga that was The Arc Horde: Expansion and before the Saga that was The Arc Horde: Date Night, there was:

The Arc Horde: A Son's Day Out

In the Kingdom of Vale, at the outskirts of it's capital city, a manor stood imperiously between the others in the district. It was grand, incredibly so, compared to it's nearest neighbours. The plot of land holding multiple buildings and distinct area's for a wide variety of uses.

Living quarters, lounging areas, recreational facilities, workshops and even a fully stocked and staffed medical ward were just part of the full range of what the Arc estate contained.

Today we find ourselves at one of the buildings holding living quarters. Here the regular pandemonium that comes with 38 children in one household was echoing through its hallways.

And it's in those hallways we seen the most peculiar sight. It is a boy. The only boy. The only non-blond brother amongst a sea of 37 very blonde sisters who can all call themselves children of one Jaune Arc.

This boy was currently running for his young life. Stuck in an objectively pretty dress and with fetching twin-tails in his brown, chin-length hair, he tried his best to ignore the sound of the pursuing party behind him.

"Aureus Gawain Autumn-Arc! Get your skirt-covered butt back here, right now!"

"We were still busy with your make-up! You're ruining the whole ensemble if you don't get back here!"

"Uncle Ren's tea leaves will not go to waste!"

The shrill voices behind him had the volume of airhorns, one the lanky 9-year old boy had no desire for to hear up close. Running through the hallways of the Arc Manor, he did his best to remember the layout of the stupidly large group of buildings he called home.

Turning the corner he spotted an open window. The collection of running sounds behind him gave him little reason to hesitate, scrambling over the windowsill and shutting it as he dropped down on the dirt beneath it.

Not even daring to breath, he listened on as his sisters stampeded past. When the noise was gone, he gave a quick glance through the window, dropping back down with a sigh of relief as he finally got a moment of peace. A moment well-suited to take stock of his own situation. Which, all-in-all, was a pretty stupid situation to be stuck in.

He, Aureus, only son of Jaune Arc, was once more "invited" for a tea party by some his sisters.

He, as always, respectfully declined said "invitation".

His sisters, as always, respectfully ignored his opposition and dragged him off by the ankles to "get dressed for the occassion".

He, as is often the case, managed to escape partway through his make-over. Leaving him him a "fetching spring dress" and twin-tails in his brown, chin-length hair.

His escape, which didn't succeed as often as he'd like, left him sitting outside a window, in the dirt of the inner courtyard of the Arc Manor.

The courtyard was actually the perfect place to be. The whole area was a massive garden with plenty of hedges, flowers, trees and most importantly, broken sightlines.

Aureus, his heart somewhat calmed, quickly made his way through the veritable maze that was the estate's central courtgarden, mentally keeping track of which direction he was travelling as he took a few extra turns to hopefully confuse any would be pursuers.

Popping back out the maze on the other side, he was greeted by the facade of another building, one that housed many of his home's lounging and recreational areas. Spotting yet another window left open thanks to whatever fortune he had left, he once again scrambled up and over the windowsill.

Dropping down on the floor with a huff Aureus finally took a real moment to enjoy an actual succesful escape from the clutches of his rabid sisters.

"Oh, well look at that, sisters. A surprise waiting below us."

Whatever warm relief the boy was feeling rapidly froze over with fear. Throwing his sight to-and-fro he desperately looked for his new tormentors, only to see no-one on either side of the long hallway.

"Aw... and he's looking everywhere but at the right place."

"Hihi, you'd think he'd know better by now."

Freezing again as the cogs in his brain tried to wrack and wrench together a coherent thought, Aureus looked up. Up near the ceiling he spotted three sets of triangular ears twitching with interest, three sets of amber and blue coloured eyes glinting with mirth, and three toothy grins smilling with delight.

Three of his sisters, the Belladonna children, lounged lazily together in the rafters, their composures as cat-like as can be.

"Hello, little brother." Said Yoru, the first Belladonna-Arc sister.

"Having some early exercise today?" Followed Raatri, the second.

"Not the best clothes for it, no?" Finished Nisha, the third.

Then again, Aureus might be wrong about the order. As much as he tried, and generally succeeded, in identifying which of his many same-faced sisters he was dealing with, the Belladonna triplets were among several who made it their life-goal to confuse anyone they could with an ongoing game of "who's who?".

With lazy stretches the three got up from their spots in the rafters, before hopping down almost 20 feet and landing with a grace and precision only a Faunus of the cat variety could perform.

Dressed in dark, baggy clothes, the three 11-year olds looked every bit the stereotype of the moody, pre-teen girls of generations past, wearing baggy trousers and baggier hoodies and with hands shoved deep in their roomy pockets.

The middle sister then traded looks with the sisters on her left and right, and with a simple arm motion the two nodded and sprinted off in opposite directions.

Thus Aureus was left with one Belladonna-Arc. Quietly, as if speaking any louder would alert his recently evaded peruers to his location, he hazarded a guess to which sister was before him.

"R-Raatri?"

"Nope." Was the curt, grinning reply.

"Yoru then?"

"Ooh, got it in two. Well done." Yoru's grin widened, just a little, as she regarded the dress wearing boy on the floor.

Said boy swallowed uncomfortably, knowing his future today was uncertain in the best case.

"What do you want?"

Yoru's grin became full and toothy as she held out two items in her arms. Aureus had failed to notice his sisters carrying anything before, so seeing a backpack in one hand and a small stack of Lien in the other was mildly surprising to say the least.

"We're going to get some ice-cream."

And with that strangely ominous declaration, Yoru tossed him the backpack, which he found to be filled with some baggy clothes fitted for him.

"Get dressed, you're being recruited."

Aureus sighed deeply as he pulled out the pants and hoodie. No matter what happened today, at least it beats being stuck in a dress drinking poorly made tea.

(A/N: A new little adventure, focused on the (not-so-)golden(haired) child of the expansive Arc family. What hi-jinks will Aureus be drawn into? What opposition will he face alongside his feline-inclined sisters? And will the ice-cream actually be any good, if they can get any? Guess we'll find out eventually. Thanks again for @novankenn for being the foundation of this bonkers AU, it's a good bit of fun all things considered)

#rwby #rwby shitpost #The Arc Horde #rwbybabies #RWBY oc kids

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schizononagesimus · 9 months ago

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"Hating your period is internalized misogyny worship your body divorce the pain from the period" I say to myself, endometriosis pains so bad they're radiating into my shoulder

#Literally Why #i would give my left leg to understand what the pattern of my endo is so i know when it's gonna be a bitch #like i was in so much pain during eclipse week #then when i got back i was Also in pain. and then my period finally came and she's like WOOOO LET'S BURN THE HOUSE DOWN #save me naproxen 3000mg save me!#i wish opiates worked for this #naproxen only takes the edge off and heating pads just keep it at bay #OH COME ON IT JUST TRAVELED TO THE OTHER SIDE #im literally limping with pain lol there's a reason i was in the ER eith this in college and they thought i had appendicitis #ANYWAY BYE IM OWIE #lessons of the hand and the mouth

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camgoloud · 7 months ago

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he still has his tonsils. by the way if you even care

#sorry this is fucking UNINTELLIGIBLE but unfortunately i’m still on my bullshit about dr. daddyissues. yeah it’s gonna be all month #i am rotating episode 2.8 ‘the mistake’ in my head at breakneck speed. i am gnawing on it i want to swallow it #oh he’s such a lying liar who lies. charming little bastard. would rather die/lose his license than express one wholly unaffected emotion #‘he thinks not giving a crap makes him like house. like it’s something to aspire to’ quick question HOW serious do the daddy issues have to #be before you start latching on to fucking GREGORY HOUSE as a paternal figure and role model. really #even cameron is not down this bad. even WILSON is not down this bad.#the daddy issues of it all are very understandable though because even setting aside whatever went down back in childhood that shit his #father did to him in seasons 1-2 is SO messed up. jesus #imagine traveling all the way across the world to the hospital your son works in for a consult which confirms what you already knew: you’re #going to die of cancer in like 2 months. making a whole point out of stopping by to visit your son. not telling him what’s going on.#letting him spend a whole episode’s worth of time gradually coming to terms with his complicated feelings towards you (complicated on #account of a whole childhood of objectively awful parenting). the kid finally is able to try reaching back out to you. after YOU initiated #the contact in the first place. how do you react? well obviously by telling him ‘oh sorry i actually have to get in a taxi right now’ and #fucking back off to the other side of the world without giving him a chance to actually talk to you at all and resolve any of the emotions #you just dredged up. oh by the way you still haven’t fucking told him you’re about to die and in fact actively mislead him into thinking #he’s going to have the chance to try meeting with you again next time he visits your home country.#especially fucked up given that the whole reason it DID take your son so long to come around THIS time is that he feels like every time #he’s tried reaching out to you in the past you’ve just disappointed him by refusing to put in the effort to meet him there.#And Now Here We Are Again.#rowan what the FUCK is wrong with you. i want to dig you up and kill you again #house md #robert chase #caseyposting

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icewindandboringhorror · 4 months ago

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Recent game related things .. hrmm...

#I do like the inconsistency of the first map. that is actually something older but that I re-found and added to my Game Reference stuff #so that when characters reference where they're from I can be accurate. I like that the whole map is kind of shifted up that way. Where the #actual south part doesnt even count as the south since its Too Far and Scary lol. and if you say you're from 'the north' thats basically #like.. one single continent. Though some people do make distinctions like 'north midlands' or etc. still. I like the ways that common #language isn't always precisely accurate like that. and thinking about why a culture would classify things a certain way or etc. etc.#The inventory page is so funny to me because it's literally just the BASe like.. sample layout just to make sure it works properly with 0 #actual design into it. just colored rectangles thrown together in MS paint. but what if I like... left it like that.. what if all the other #art in the game and UI is like stylized and fully matching BUT the inventory/journal/etc. screens I just left as plain colored blocks #with random misalignments and black spots and etc gjhbhjj... It looks unfinished in a Funny Contrast way to me.#the wordcounts are just like... my past few days of writing.. I am still not getting 2200 words a day done or whatever I needed. I'm lucky #if it's even half of that .... tee hee.. :3c I do also keep having appointments and other things going on but..grrr...#The full map of the area is probably not necessary but I thought it would be more realisitc if people were able to reference things. Like i #you have people all living in a city area probably at some point someone might mention a neighboring city or some landmark nearby #or etc. so I thought having at least the basic names of what's around for reference would be sensible. A side character mentioning #'oh yeah I don't live here full time I just travel from Marisene sometimes' or whatever makes it seem more like a Real #Fleshed Out Place than people just making vague references like 'the river' or 'i come from a city nearby' or 'i went to a place somewhere #around here' or 'the other city' or etc. lol.. Especially since global cities/global areas are weird as they operate almost like an #independent country within their walls. so it's like a micro country inside of another country usually. just plopped down in some agreed #upon plot of land that won't be too disruptive to the main country around it. That could get very complex depending on the cultural and #political backdrop of where they're placed (though obviously they try to choose the 'easiest' areas possible for it). Asen is a very mild #country without much history of conflict or anything so it's fine. But still interesting that Sifeh and the entire branched out global area #border three other districts of Asen. Which means like 3 times the local representitives you'l have to negotiate with for some major change #or anything. I think one of the 'random characters you can find around the world and have short discussions with just to make the area #feel more populated and real even though theyre not actual important npcs' is going to be a guy who actually serves on the council that #handles running the global areas and he's like.. some perpetually exhausted middle aged elf running around with a clipboard or whatever #ANYWAY...... hrgh... still trying to write when I can....#I WISH so badly that I had the scope for a simple character creation menu and all character interactions would allot for the background #of your player character. And also to have a simple day night cycle where places in the world you explore/people you talk to during the day #have new options or dialogue at night.. BUT alas... I already am so behind on everything as is lol.. aughhh... T o T #As the worlds number one Needless Detail And Complexity Enjoyer i must dilligently prevent myself from adding additional complexity

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yikesola · 3 months ago

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Just did a biiiiiiiiig ol tweak on my dating app profile, let’s try this again boys 🫡

#me talking #dan snags the hottest dyke in the world 15 years ago and they just happen to be bragging about her 13 inch cock today #but me? me I gotta be out in the trenches I gotta be knee deep in mud #oh dan just had to send a million stalky tweets?? I have to SWIPE #can dan even Concieve of the torture that is the swipe game?????#he wouldn’t last five minutes out here let alone five months #I have more sympathy for Phil tbh — out there dating every emo twink in the region or willing to travel hoping they’re the one #until they were :’)#no wait ! I’m not here to get soft !! I’m here to be indignant — dating apps are a nightmare but the only way out is through✨#(and hopefully I come through the other side with a girlfriend this time 🤞🤞🤞🤞)

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aroaessidhe · 2 years ago

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2023 reads // twitter thread

Song Of Silver Flame like Night

YA wuxia/xianxia inspired fantasy

a girl in a colonised country with a mysterious seal on her arm left by her mother before she was killed

when a state magician finds her, she escapes with a boy to his school of secret traditional magic practitioners, and discover the secrets her mother left her

powerful demon gods

#Song Of Silver Flame like Night #aroaessidhe 2023 reads #with the caveat that i am clearly not the audience. i kinda hated this lol #for a few very specific reasons #i think there’s interesting concepts & worldbuilding #but i am just so burnt out on girl-and-boy-with-no-friends-and-instant-attraction-travelling-together as the centre of a story yknow #this random girl dies and then after she’s referring to her as her best friend but like….i didn’t get that from their single conversation.#it almost feels like shoved in last minute because of feedback of no other female friendships #when there’s finally another woman it’s the stereotype of a mean girl. and they are just calling each other bitches and whores….like jesus…#she is so one dimensional but also in concept she is 20x cooler than the mc sorry i’m rooting for her now #from the end seems like they’ll be forced to work together and probably become reluctant allies/friends in book 2 or something but like….#if that was intended from the beginning you have to make the initial hatred make sense in the first place #also boys getting all embarrassed by periods……it’s 2023. come on. it's not cute and endearing.#if ur looking for dragons bc of the cover. there are barely dragons. the one shows up in like the last chapter #also the audiobook narration is one of those where the normal narration is a normal voice but the dialogue is so cartoony?#like the girls have such high pitched voices.the boys have the deeper voice. except for like random side boys who have comical ones.#idk none of them sound like real people #things i did like: the magic i guess. though to be quite honest the colonisers metal based magic seemed more original and interesting asdhgf #i thought there were some interesting elements to the dudes backstory #oh another thing i disliked is theres a side character with a cleft lip and the MC brings it up EVERY TIME like like.....what.#every time she sees him shes like. ppl used to discriminate #against this and call them (a bunch of slurs) and say they're cursed but actually maybe it's just a scar. people used to call them slurs btw #. i am going to bring this up every time i look at them.

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fandom-blahs · 5 months ago

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It’s funny how rarely people bat an eye but when someone tries doing the same with ~other cultures~

“Generically medieval” (inoffensive) and “Oriental setting ” (offensive)

There’s something kind of fun about trying to spot what parts of a culture a creator decides to create a weird concoction of

“Generically medieval”, by which we mean our peerage is French, our castles are German, our weapons are Italian, and everybody speaks English.

#it’s why idm Aladdin like people crying about how inaccurate it is but it’s ironically quite accurate to the spirit of how it was told #A Syrian man said in a land far away and meant China #Where the Chinese people have Arabic names and are interacting with Arab folkore #don’t question it bro #not to come of as…too much of a pick me but I find it funny like yes strange American show me what you think my side of the world look like #i have never seen a sari irl before but for some reason all the supposedly Arab women are wearing one #people mostly parrot Edward’s stuff without…giving it much thought #Oh it Bad and Dangerous because Westerners will think ok???#the only interesting thing is that we end up adopting the ideas Westerners have like oh Westerners think we’re uneducated and backwards so #that must be true #i cut off the last comment because it’s part of Westerners and Westernised people being incapabale of imaging Africans in any other setting #where they are not a minority #being incapable of creating a fantasy world inspired by our own cultures histories and heritages #with the millions of excuses that accompany it #ohhhh but merchants -> proceeds oto never actually portray them as a traveller they’re just some immigrant don’t be racist smh

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mbirnsings-71 · 5 months ago

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I know way too many things but not enough to where it feels like I can just randomly infodump on Tumblr unless it's something very specific like Fandom Stuff and even then I'm not infodumping fandom stuff unless it's to my friends who have never consumed the media before because there's pure Joy that comes with me getting to be the one that shares a new thing with them it's so fun!!

#Madi Rambles #again trying to get myself not in the mindset that I should only use Tumblr to post art and nothing else #it's hard man #but I stand by this that there truly is sm joy when explaining the weirdest shit that happens in something and providing no context until #asked like when I was on my John Constantine binge (Which I need to read more of him again he's so close to being in my top three most read #even if it would ruin the trinity trio I have there at the moment) I would just say the WILDEST shit that came from his runs because his ru #gets fucking INSANE at some points like him legit getting a demon blood transfusion and the whole Zed/Mary plot line or the even his Niece #going missing plot line OR THE TWO FUCKING CULTS THAT HE'S STUCK BETWEEN AND JUST GOD JOHN CONSTANTINE YOU ARE INSANE #I love him he's such an asshole BUT HE CARES THAT'S THE KICKER!! He puts so much effort into saving the world and he's never going to be #recognized for it because it's the occult side of DC and also John's not looking for the recognition he's doing this so he can get on with #his day and it's JUST SO #oh and don't even get me fucking started on Constantine's 2011 run that shit is fucking WILD there's time travel in it! There's the fucking #trinity war! There's a scavenger hunt and other dimensions! IT'S INSANE and it's where my edited home screen comes from #John Constantine I love you so much and I promise I'm trying to read more of your comics I just have no time to read comics right now #so yeah I guess that can be your ramble tumblr no one is really gonna read these but it'll be silly #OH AND FUCKING MERCURY I'M FINALLY ON HER FIRST ISSUE IN THE OG HELLBLAZER RUN I NEED TO READ THAT AAAAAAAAAAAA #OH AND THE SWAMP THING TAKING OVER HIS BODY STORYLINE LIKE THAT WAS WILD BECAUSE ABBY AND SWAMP THING AND AAAAA #I have so much to say about John Constantine but nothing to post for him unless I actually continue writing my essay about him my god #anyone that reads all of these like hi why would you do that go get some water or something pls hydrate

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harrysfolklore · 5 months ago

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little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO

word count: over 10k + social media posts

folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2023 SEASON

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 87,635 others

ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break

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username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY

username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother

lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂

↳ ynpiastri ilysm

username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up

mclaren That’s our boy 🧡

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍

username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭

landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please

↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING

↳ ynpiastri never 😤

oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM

↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.

You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.

"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."

"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.

"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."

"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.

This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."

He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.

"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"

"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."

"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"

"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"

You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.

For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.

And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.

"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."

You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.

"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."

"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."

"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."

"No promises."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)

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username1 SLAAAY

username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn

francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲

↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee

username3 she has the dream life

charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ ynpiastri never

↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me

lilyzneimer 🤍

oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”

↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.

You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.

“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk

“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.

After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.

Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”

Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”

“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.

"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.

As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.

Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.

You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.

When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.

"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.

“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.

Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”

"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”

“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.

“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”

“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."

“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”

“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”

“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”

“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”

“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.

Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”

“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.

When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.

"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.

“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.

"Don't bother, he's a bitch."

Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.

“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."

“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”

Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”

“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”

Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”

"She's insufferable."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynpiastri has added to their stories

carlossainz55 replied to your story

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ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭

lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE

username4 not her adding the radio message

landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative

↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??

↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭

charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?

↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..

↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.

However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.

"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.

"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.

"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"

"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"

"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."

"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.

Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."

Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.

"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."

He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.

"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.

"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."

Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."

Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.

The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.

Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri season over and out. super proud of you, rookie of the year @/oscarpiastri 🥹

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username1 i’m going to miss this season sm

username2 proud sisssss

mclaren One for the books 🧡

username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie

landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now

↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef

↳ username1 not for lando 😭

oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️

↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.

And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.

You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.

So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.

With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.

Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.

"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.

"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.

Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again

"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"

"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.

"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."

"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."

"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."

"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."

"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."

True

"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.

"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."

"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."

Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."

"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.

"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."

"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.

"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."

"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.

"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."

Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.

"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

What the hell was happening?

For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.

"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.

"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."

Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lando and yn

texts between carlos and lando

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2024 SEASON

Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.

You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.

In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.

"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.

"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.

"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."

Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.

You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.

With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.

Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.

Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.

"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.

"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"

"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"

"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."

You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.

"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."

Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."

"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."

"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.

"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"

"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.

"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."

You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."

The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.

Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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username1 ICON IS BACKKKK

username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz

mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡

↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee

username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her

charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?

↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood

↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES

lilyzneimer love youuu✨

oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis

↳ ynpiastri i’m just here for my babies 🫡

landonorris I know your reasons

↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.

You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.

Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.

Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.

As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.

He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.

Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.

However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.

Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"

Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."

Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.

"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."

"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."

"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."

"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."

Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."

There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.

It felt nice.

"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."

"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."

"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."

As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.

"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"

"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.

"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."

You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.

You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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username1 AUSSIE QUEEN

username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??

↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia

↳ username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶

↳ ynpiastri our real queen

lilyzneimer the third pic is my faveeee

username4 surprised that she didn’t blur carlos in the podium pic

landonorris Please don’t make me do a shoey ever again

↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT

↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate

↳ ynpiastri cry baby

carlossainz55 started following you

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"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."

"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."

"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."

"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."

"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."

You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.

Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.

But here you were, about to head out to meet him.

"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."

"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."

You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."

"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."

"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"

"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."

"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."

"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."

You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.

That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.

"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."

"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."

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ynpiastri just decent human being things

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username1 BESTIEEEE

username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE

alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

f1gossip 👀

username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???

↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other

↳ username2 he’s in the likes tho 😭

landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE

↳ username1 wtfffff

oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please

↳ username1 IM SCREAMING

↳ username2 OSCAR 😩

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After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.

The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.

"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.

"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.

"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"

"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."

You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.

"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."

"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."

"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."

"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.

You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.

Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"

"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"

"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"

"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."

"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"

You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.

"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'

Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.

"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.

"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"

"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."

"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"

"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.

"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."

You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.

"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.

"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.

"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."

"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.

"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.

"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.

Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.

You were fucked.

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A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.

He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.

This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.

"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.

"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.

Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.

"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."

"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.

"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.

"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."

Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."

You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.

You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.

Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.

"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."

"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."

"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."

"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."

You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.

It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.

"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."

"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."

"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."

You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"

"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."

"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."

"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."

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ynpiastri the rumors are true: lando norris keeps celebrating his miami win even tho it’s been a week

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username1 so iconic tbh

username2 EXCUSE ME MISS IS THAT CARLOS SAINZ IN THE LAST PIC ??

↳ username1 i thought they hated each other 😭

danielricciardo 🙌

alexandrasaintmleux 👀 I see you

↳ ynpiastri and i don’t see you over her which means your boyfriend sucks for not bringing you

↳ charles_leclerc …..

landonorris IM V DRVNK OMG

↳ username3 i love him 😭😭😭😩

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey

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You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.

Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.

No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.

"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.

After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.

Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."

"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."

Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.

You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.

"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.

"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.

"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.

You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.

"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."

"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.

You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.

The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.

At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."

When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."

His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.

Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."

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