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bratbarzal · 3 months ago

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The Secret of Us (LH43) 1/3

aka the sequel to let it happen

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 21k (oops)

I felt it, you held it, do you miss us? wonder if you regret the secret of us.

General Warnings: angst (lol), a severe lack of proofreading, mentions of injuries, a couple of angsty flashbacks with avoidant behaviour and fade to black type smut

A/N: just want to say thank you guys for liking this so much 💖 seeing all the comments and the messages and people recommending this to others and the sweet things you're all saying (even if I betrayed you lol) made me so unbelievably happy!!! I could never let these two go out like that, I enjoy writing this dynamic way too much, and I also have way too much discussing this fic with people!! shoutout to the let it happen film club lmao!!! I hope you guys enjoy this sequel, and I hope it lives up to LIH, they really are my babies!!

and I know what you're thinking, maggie how could we ever trust you again after let it happen??? you can't!! and you shouldn't!!! but I wouldn't do that to you twice.

or would I???

I wouldn't 😌

OR WOULD I?!?!?!?! 😏

You need to start getting more comfortable saying no to people.

It’s something you tell yourself all the time, that being a people pleaser is going to lead to your downfall - it’s something you’ve always known.

So why you would ever possibly agree to attend a football game with your sorority sisters after weeks of hiding away in the safety of your childhood bedroom, you have no idea. You’ve spent the last 4 weeks alone convincing yourself to grow a backbone, and you’ve only been back in town a week. 7 whole days and your resolve has crumbled to pieces.

And now you’re squeezing yourself through a crowd of sweaty, yelling men to find your seat in the cramped spaces of Michigan Stadium, after already being packed like a clown into the back of your friend Molly’s car, and your head is throbbing, already.

A football game.

You at a football game.

It’s absurd.

Dressed in team colours with a ridiculous yellow M painted on your cheek like you’re some sort of local.

It’s your own version of a living hell, and you can’t wait for it to be over.

“Are you guys always sat this low?” You yell out to Molly as the rest of your friends amble in, surrounded now on all sides with no way out.

“Aren’t the seats, great?!” She yells back, louder than you, causing you to wince a little at the shrill sound in your ear.

The seats are not great, but you wouldn’t be happy anywhere in here.

You can barely even see the field, the sidelines packed with God-knows-who, and your back hurts already, and all you want is to go back to the version of you that was first asked if she wanted to come with. A version of you that should have told Molly straight up that you’d have rather sat at home plucking at any remaining body hair with a pair of pointed tweezers than to come to a Michigan Football game.

“Oh, look!” Molly jumps, and you’re assuming she’s just going to point to her boyfriend, following her finger with a bored gaze. You’ve seen him, before. You don’t need to see him again.

Only Molly’s finger doesn’t point to her boyfriend.

It points to the sidelines - to a group of guys stood with a shorter girl with curly blonde hair.

Ellie’s down there, dressed in team colours, too. She’s stood next to Jack, who’s stood next to Quinn.

And you don’t even need to look past Quinn to know who’s gonna be stood beside him.

It’s way too late to go home, now, you fear.

Not when Molly is digging her phone out and pressing immediately on Ellie’s contact, and you can see the whole situation unfold in front of you.

Ellie never has her phone on silent, and when it rings, it rings loud - a high-pitched, horrific tone that honestly sets off your fight or flight, and you can see the immediate reaction the boys have to it chiming in her hand.

She answers, instantly, and you can hear Molly’s side of the conversation, guiding Ellie to where your group are up in the stands, waving like a lunatic until Ellie finds you all - and, as if your life isn’t bad enough, she then starts gesturing at you.

“Look who I managed to convince to come with!” She yells, still pointing like you’re some circus attraction, and, if you could remember what the ground felt like, too long in the stands, now, that you miss it, you would honestly want it to swallow you up.

Because obviously Ellie isn’t the only one looking.

Jack is looking.

And Quinn is looking.

And you know, once again without looking yourself, that the person beside Quinn now has his eyes on you, too.

The weight of them takes you back in a dizzying flash, and all of a sudden, you’re back in the lake house, sobbing into your hands until you were pulled into the soft embrace of your best friend.

“Hey, you’re crying, what’s wrong?” Ellie cooed as she came over, throwing her arm around your shaking frame and rubbing a hand up and down your back. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you tried through shaky breaths, attempting and entirely unconvincing smile, like it would at all mask the flood pouring down your cheeks, “Go back to your party, I’m just being dumb.”

“I’m not gonna leave you like this,” she told you, “What's going on, is it Luke?”

The mere mention of his name brought back the onslaught of tears, your face scrunching as you tried to hold them back, but it was no use. Every single part of you ached with regret, your throat, your chest, your limbs - and all you wanted to do was curl up and cry it out. “I fucked it all up, El.”

“No,” she reassured you, “He fucked things up, he should never have spoken about you like that, it wasn’t fair. Not if the two of you are into each other, he shouldn’t be saying things like that.”

“He was right, though,” you sobbed, “I’m a mess, I just ruin everything good, I don’t even know why.”

“Aw, babe, no-,”

“I told him I’d go out with Cole. I don’t even know why, I just wanted him to stop trying to make things work, he kept trying to tell me that he didn’t mean any of it, but I know he did.”

“Do you?” She asked, “Want to go out with Cole?”

“No, of course I don’t.” You shook your head, although you didn’t know how obvious it was, especially to everybody else, how little you wanted to be with anybody that wasn’t Luke. “I just want to go back to this morning, before I heard him say any of that stuff.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs, huh? We can find him, and the two of you can try to talk again-,”

“I can’t,” you refused, the thought of trying to communicate your feelings while you looked the way you did - eyes red raw and face all swollen - filling you with anxiety. “Can you just tell people I’m sick if they ask? I know it’s your birthday but I can’t go down there, Ellie.”

“Okay,” she had agreed, although the worry in her eyes made you feel even worse - missing your best friend’s birthday party because you were too chicken to face your feelings?

What sort of friend does that?

“I’ll come check on you, though. And tomorrow, you’re gonna have a serious conversation with Luke, alright? You can’t keep pushing people away, it isn’t good for you.”

“I know,” you sniffled, “I promise, I’ll try tomorrow.”

But trying had been futile. Luke wanted nothing to do with you - he could barely even look your way. He didn’t come downstairs for breakfast the next day, and when he finally did, he turned straight back around. Every time you tried to talk to him, he would shut you down, and by the tenth day of trying, you’d given up, entirely - booking yourself a ticket home, packing your things up one night and leaving the morning after.

The following weeks were spent wallowing back home with your mom - texting Ellie, waiting for him to reach out, even though you knew he wouldn’t. Watching sad movies, staying inside, spending your days alone, while your mom was at work, and trying not to miss him so much.

And coming back to Michigan had only been made easy by the fact that he would be gone - due to go back to training in Jersey, and the two of you wouldn’t cross paths.

It won’t hurt as much, you had thought, if you didn’t have to see him.

But now here Luke is, following Ellie’s gaze as she waves up to you in the stands, stood on the sidelines of the football game you’d only attended to finally get yourself out of the house - still in Michigan, stood at the end of the path you thought no longer led to him.

This might be the first time he’s met your eye in a while, and there’s a visceral feeling that shoots straight through you - your heart falling into an alarming, irregular thump that reverberates through your entire body, and it’s a strange sensation, like the slowing of time, the blurring of everything around you but him.

His arm is held to his front with a sling, and you try to ignore the way your stomach turns at the sight of it. It’s nothing to do with you, he doesn’t want you to care. He doesn’t even want to talk to you, and you don’t want to talk to him, either - not anymore. Not after almost 6 weeks of silence - of forcing yourself to think about anything but him, like you even could.

You offer a tight lipped smile and a wave to Ellie, and try to ignore his presence for as long as you can, try to watch the game, to focus on your friends in the stands beside you - only, he keeps looking back. Craning his neck, surveying the crowd as it fills up just to find you, and your heart starts to hammer in your chest every time you catch his eye.

What happened to him avoiding you at all costs? What happened to ignoring your attempts to talk, the knocks at his door, the pleading, persuasive looks you’d try to give him when it all got a little too much in the end.

Why can’t he just let you slip away into nothingness, like it would be so much easier to do?

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket as you’re trying to focus on the game, the desire to flee growing by the second - cramped and claustrophobic in your seat, dying for a drink and a minute of reprieve away from the crowd, away from Luke and whatever weird telekinetic powers he has on your heart.

Luke: can we talk?

Luke: I’ll be at the closest concessions in 5

You slip your phone back into your pocket without responding, and by the time you look back down to where he had been stood, he’s gone.

You should be relieved.

Maybe if you ignore his message, he’ll stop looking at you.

Maybe this is where it ends, and you can finally let each other go - too far gone to fix, nothing left to say.

Only your legs are now moving, side stepping Molly and the other girls, along with the rest of the people in your row, and your mouth is apologising to those you bump into, and your feet are carrying you down the stairs to where you know he’ll be, sneakers squeaking against the sticky floor as you search for him in the small concessions queue.

He stands taller than most, waiting by the counter, facing the other way, and you take the second that his back is turned to you to reconsider.

Stuck in place, staring at broad shoulders you’d once spent tracing the freckles between while he slept, and wondering which might hurt more - walking away or hearing him out.

He turns before you get the chance to choose, his eyes meeting yours , widening in surprise, as much as they can, considering his current predicament, and he immediately heads your way.

“Didn’t think you’d come,” Luke just about says as he precariously holds onto a plastic cup between his teeth, offering you the one in his free hand - what you assume is diet coke with ice sloshing a little over the rim and onto the already sticky floor.

“Can hardly leave a one-armed man to navigate the concession stand on his own. Not one with your appetite, at least.” Your brows furrow when you notice the distinct lack of snacks in his hold, but you figure he prioritised using what little carrying capacity he had to get your drink. “Do you want me to hang around while you get something to eat? I can hold your drink,”

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” he says, clearer now that he can hold his cup in his hand instead of his mouth. “I’m on some pretty strong painkillers, can’t eat without feeling sick.”

“Oh,” you frown, eyeing the sling that holds his other arm. He had been fine when you left the lake house - and even last week, in Ellie’s story on instagram, he hadn’t seemed injured then. It must be a recent development, and so close to the season, for him to be out in public wearing a brace, it can’t be good. “What happened?”

“Took a pretty bad hit on the ice,” he shrugs with his other shoulder, lips turning down like he’s trying to play it off, “Been telling myself it’s karma.” The way he chuckles is distant and noncommittal, and not at all like all the ways you’re used to seeing him smile or laugh. His eyes don’t squint, his mouth barely turns up, barely pushes those tell-tale folds into his cheeks that you used to press at when he was close enough to do so. Back when being in such close proximity made your heart thump in a different way.

But maybe that’s for the best.

Maybe one of Luke Hughes’ signature crooked grins might have made you do something stupid, like touch him again. You’ve worked too hard to push away the feeling of wanting to for the past month.

“Karma for what?” You ask instead, head tilting to survey the damage, like you’d even be able to see anything through the thick yellow hoodie he has on. It’s better than looking him in the eye, you think.

“For what I said to Cole,” he tells you, the shame that lines his words doing little to alleviate the way they so quickly jab at you, all the memories of that day and that conversation rushing back at you full-force. Memories you’ve worked really hard to suppress. “For hurting you. I probably deserved to get hurt, too.”

“I’d never want you to be hurt, Luke.” You say before you can think better of it, narrowed eyes meeting his finally, watching as they soften slightly, let your words sink in and melt like warm butter, seeping into his every pore and breaking down his hardened exterior.

“Me neither,” he almost-whispers, “For you, I mean. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”

You nod, momentarily pressing your lips together, your focus dropping to a patch of lint on his hoody, clenching your free hand into a fist behind your back to save yourself from reaching out to pluck it off.

“Is that all you wanted to see me for?”

You don’t want to be rude to him, but it’s hard, especially when every instinct in your body is telling you to push him away - to keep him at arms length where he can’t pull you back in.

“No,” he utters quickly, his feet shuffling as if he wants to step forward, reduced the metaphorical distance you’re trying to force between the two of you. “I was hoping we could talk.”

You just about save yourself from having your jaw drop wide open.

You’d tried to talk to him last month, before you left, and he had wanted nothing more to do with you.

“In the middle of a football game?” You frown, daring to glance up - taking notice of the panic in his eyes when he reads you like a book, can recognise your retreating form from a mile off, by now.

“No,” he blurts out, “No, I mean later, if you’re free. Somewhere else.”

“I don’t know-,”

“We’re having a barbecue back at the house,” he interrupts, a look on his face like he couldn’t possibly accept no for an answer. “Like an end of summer send-off thing, you should come over, I know the guys would want to say goodbye properly.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you finish your earlier thought, “Besides, your family probably all hate me.”

“Why would they hate you?”

“Because of what happened with us,”

“Oh,” He frowns, “No, they don’t hate you, I promise, not even Jack.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you scoff - when he had helped Ellie move rooms back in the sorority house last week, he could barely even muster a smile to send your way. He hadn’t been his usual stand-offish self, but he had hardly been friendly, either. You didn’t expect laughs and hugs and welcome-backs, but after the two of you had kind of made up back at his cousin’s wedding, and things were finally solid between him and your best friend, you thought some kind of bridge had been built.

Apparently not.

“I didn’t tell them.”

“Oh,” you don’t know whether you feel relieved or disappointed. He can’t have been that heartbroken about the whole thing if he never told a soul, right? Even you told your mom when you got home - granted, she was a whole bottle of rosé deep into the night and seconds from falling into a wine coma, but you still at least acknowledged your feelings to somebody.

What did he do, just bottle all whatever feelings remained up and send them off down the lake? Enjoy the rest of his summer like you never happened?

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” he continues, “You never really liked me talking about us with other people, so I didn’t.”

“Right,” you nod, biting your tongue to save from throwing out a bitter, thanks. You spent the last month watching heart-wrenching sad movies in your bed all day and he just went about his life like the two of you were nothing That’s fine. That’s cool.

“Ellie’ll be there,” he tries again, like she won’t be attached to Jack’s hip all night and you’ll be left on your own. “And a few of the Michigan guys, if you need a ride back to campus. I’d offer to drive you, but,” he nods down to his arm, “Or you can stay, your room is still free.”

Yourroom. Like you have any claim on any part of his world, still.

“I’ll think about it,” you tell him, because you can’t fully bring yourself to say no to his face. It’ll be easier when you’re back home, later, and can just ignore his texts, if he even cares enough to send any. “I should get back.”

“I can walk you back,”

“You shouldn’t be in a crowd with your arm,” your head shakes and you step back, your body language saying more than your lips even dare. “It’s fine. Thanks for the drink.”

“No problem.” He chews at the corner of his lip as he watches you retreat, like he has more to say.

Despite spending the last month doing everything in your power to wipe your thoughts clean of Luke Hughes, you want nothing more than to hear it - but where you’ve been suffering and relating every pathetic, sad song you hear back to him and fighting every urge to reach out through fear of rejection, he’s been ignoring your entire existence. Repressing whatever feelings he may have had and neglecting any instinct he might have had to reach out, too.

“Promise me you will?” He calls out when you’re a little ways down the tunnel, causing you to turn back to see him in the same spot, “Think about it, I mean. I’d really like to talk to you.”

Your fingers tense at the mere mention of a promise tumbling from his lips, your pinky sending signals to your feet to run straight back to him, practically itching to reach out and link with his. Instead, you nod, eyes darting to the big M that stretches across his chest, easier to look at that and lie than into his hopeful gaze.

“Sure,” you tell him, because you can hardly make a promise you can’t keep.

Not to Luke.

You’re not coming.

Luke realistically knew as much when Ellie arrived on her own - immediately going over to Jack and sparing Luke a glance out of the corner of her eye as she whispered to his brother.

But it’s taken him almost 2 hours to really come to terms with the fact - to stop keeping an eye on the door and whipping his head around any time a newcomer enters the house.

He should have known when you refused to make a promise to him - not like you owed him anything in the first place. Should have known when the few attempts you made at joking around with him like old times, you’d barely mustered a smile - that familiar glint in your eye that shone only for him watered down into a dull gaze you refused to hold.

God, he’s an idiot, he thinks.

He should have spoken to you when he had the chance - those few times you had tried to offer an olive branch, pushing a pre-poured glass of juice his way at breakfast or making space for him on the couch he’s now conveniently slumped on, all alone.

It feels a little like a lost cause now, trying to reignite some sort of spark between the two of you - not when you won’t even hear him out.

He’d felt a bit of hope when you’d met him at the stadium, thinking his text might have been left on read - and even though he’d made the effort to buy you a drink, he hadn’t entirely expected you to turn up.

He thinks maybe that had been the first thing to throw him for a loop - arranging a meeting on a whim and you actually making an appearance. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t form a coherent sentence, or relay any sort of confidence in himself or what he was trying to sell you on.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t convince you to come.

He can’t blame you - your last 10 days here at the house had been miserable, on his account, and if he was in your shoes, he wouldn’t come back, either. He wouldn’t hear himself out, wouldn’t forgive himself.

The night of Ellie’s party should have been where he drew the line at avoiding you - the initial aftermath of your fight still sizzling, too hot to touch while the both of you were still reeling.

The morning after, he had been hungover - throwing back drinks like nobody’s business just to drown you out - and there was no chance of having a serious conversation, then, even though he had woke up alone in his bed wanting nothing more than for you to be there.

He’d gone downstairs sometime in the early afternoon, ignoring his growling stomach until he couldn’t do it any more , and had trudged into the kitchen only to find you there with Cole.

The bitterness within him fought violently with his need to puke, and he stormed back up to his room, no longer having any sort of appetite, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

The days that followed were no better - avoiding you at every given opportunity, ignoring your pleading eyes, leaving no chance for you to speak to him, despite all the times he could see that you wanted to. He’d leave every room you entered, turn away from every conversation you joined, and the final nail in the coffin was probably the time he ignored you knocking on his bedroom door one night, the soft call of his name feeling like a knife that twisted in his gut.

You were gone the next day - your bedroom door open and the room empty when he walked past, your seat at the table vacant when he came downstairs for breakfast, and he seemed to be the only one who didn’t know. Ellie seemed unbothered, already having moved into Jack’s room, Quinn was drinking the green tea you had bought, that no one else was supposed to touch, Alex probably wouldn’t have cared either way, and Cole was already talking about meeting up with some other girl.

“Wow,” Luke had scoffed, throwing himself into the chair beside Cole’s and sneaking a peak at his phone screen, suddenly feeling a burning need to call the guy out. He was to the entire reason you called things off with Luke, and now he was talking to someone else? “Her bed isn’t even cold and you’re already moving on, huh?”

Ellie had glared at him from across the table, and Jack had frowned too, no doubt wondering why after 10 days of complete silence about the whole thing, he was daring to bring you up now.

“What are you talking about?” Cole chuckled, leaning back in his chair and raising a brow at Luke, who just said your name in response, with a pointed stare. “What about her?”

“Thought you were ending your summer with a girlfriend.”

“Dude, where the hell have you been?” Cole snorted, amused, if anything, “She couldn’t have turned me down quicker if she tried. Man to man, don’t ever follow instructions from that one,” he pointed over to Ellie, “She led me on a wild goose chase all summer just so that I’d help her get her guy.”

“Hey!” Ellie called from across the table, “It’s not my fault you have no game. And I would have gotten my guy just fine without your help.”

Before Cole could retort, spurred on by the way Jack was chucking by her side, Luke frowned, straightening in his chair. “She didn’t want to go out with you?”

“No, but before you say anything, it has nothing to do with my game, alright? She’s into someone else, I guess.”

“Someone else?” Luke’s eyes darted over to Ellie, who just rolled hers in response, turning her attention back to Jack before she excused herself from the table.

“That’s my guess,” Cole shrugged, “She said she wasn’t into me like that, but come on.”

Wasn’t into him?

That wasn’t what you had said to Luke.

“Sorry man,” Luke offered, absentmindedly, head craning to see which direction Ellie left in. “As you were.”

He jogged out of the kitchen and up the stairs, just about catching her before she disappeared into her and Jack’s room. “Hey, wait,” he had called, watching as she let out a heavy sigh and turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “She turned him down?”

“Did you not just have this exact conversation with Cole?”

“Ellie, c’mon,” he pleaded, desperation creeping up inside - feeling a little too much like guilt, and causing a serious discomfort in the pit of his stomach. “She said she wanted to date him.”

“You’re so unbelievably stupid.”

It didn’t quite hit the same as when you said it, shame washing over him at the way Ellie was glaring at him.

“She heard you tell him that she wasn’t girlfriend material, and that she would just be hard work, and not worth his time. Lucky for you, she didn’t hear the bullshit you said before that.” Regret formed like a heavy ball in his gut, the weight of it almost pushing him to keel over. “She said whatever she had to to get you off her back because it hurt her less to push you away.”

“I don’t-,”

“And you’re the dumbass who just let her do it.”

That’s not fair, he thought. What was he supposed to do, just watch you move on without a care in the world, cheering you on with a stupid grin on his face while his whole heart crumbled to pieces at the thought of you being with anybody else?

“I’m not a mind reader, Ellie,” he tried to defend himself, “I can’t keep pushing at a door that won’t open.”

“My God, do you have a peanut for a brain, Luke?” She had shoved at his chest, “She’s been holding the door open for the last ten days, and all you’ve done is walk past it. She wanted to talk to you, and you wouldn’t even look at her!”

“I wasn’t ready! I thought she-,”

He had thought you had taken Cole up on his offer of taking you out - had thought that’s the conversation he had stumbled into the day after the party - and he didn’t want to risk hearing anything about it, or seeing it in action.

“She said it didn’t matter.”

You had said that - he had asked you straight up, so there was no confusing it, but when he tried to remember, he can’t picture your eyes as you did. He must not have been looking, he thought, or maybe you weren’t looking at him. Either way, how’s he supposed to muster up a clear idea of your intentions if he can’t remember the look in your eyes as you spoke them.

You couldn’t lie to him - you never could, even in the beginning, pretending to be aloof, pretending you weren’t into him, he could always see through you, back then, so why didn’t he try harder when it was something he didn’t want to hear?

“She’s really gone home? Not just back to Ann Arbor?”

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, “Chase her down?”

“I don’t know, if I have to. We need to talk.”

“She’s probably back at her mom’s by now, she left pretty early. And I think it’s for the best if you leave her alone, Luke. She gave you a hundred chances to talk.”

“What am I supposed to do? I can’t just leave things like this, I made a mistake, I need her to know that, I need her to know I’m sorry.”

“It’s better if you both just cool off a little. She’s hurt that you’ve been ignoring her, it isn’t fair to keep playing hot and cold with her feelings.”

“That’s not what I-,”

“I know.” Ellie sighed, leaning against the wall and giving him a pitiful look as she finally took in just how panicked he had become, running hands through his hair and shifting between his feet. “Just give it time, that way you can both think about it, think about what you want to say without just saying things and not meaning them.”

And that’s all Luke has been doing since then.

Thinking about what he wants to say to you - thinking about how to fix things. All without knowing when it is that he would even see you again, or if you’d be willing to listen.

He’d distracted himself with it - his mind stuck on just how bad he had messed things up, and it had put him into a rut - so much so, that he ended up hurting himself in training, an injury that would have him out for a good couple of months. And he had meant it, when he told you he thought it was karma, because he deserved a reality check, he thinks. It had shifted things into perspective, at least - because now he could stay in town a little longer, could try and make amends before he had to go home and properly start his season.

And when he’d noticed Ellie scanning the crowd back at the game, had followed her beaming smile all the way to you in the crowd, he thought his heart had stopped.

It had been 4 weeks since he’d seen you last - almost 6 since he’d spoken to you. Since he’d touched you, or kissed you, or seen you smile, and when your eyes meet his from the stands, widened and hesitant, he could tell you were feeling the same.

An insurmountable longing for something the two of you should never have thrown away.

He saw the truth, then, even as you looked away and diverted your attention back to Ellie - the truth he was too hurt to notice all those weeks ago back in your room in the lake house.

That you felt the same way - you always had - you just weren’t used to it. Weren’t used to loving someone, or having them love you.

But he can’t quite tell if you still feel it.

He can’t expect you to, not with how reserved you’ve become.

He sighs, sinking into the cushions of the couch, legs stretched out and head thrown against the back as he squints against the light - the noise around him dwindling to a constant buzz.

He’s too caught up in his head to notice when Ellie sinks down beside him until she nudges at his side, and he slowly looks her way.

“If it helps at all, I could tell she wanted to come.”

Luke snorts out a humourless laugh, eyes rolling. “If she wanted to come, she’d be here.” He says, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“She doesn’t really open up to people,” Ellie sighs, and he can tell from the way she’s looking at him that’s only divulging this from a place of pity, although he guesses that’s better than her saying nothing at all. “It took us years to get to where we are, and even now I’m not sure she lets me all the way in, and we’re supposed to be best friends.”

“I feel like I don’t even know if she was ever into me in the first place,” he mutters, tracing at a scratch in the surface of the table. Even if he had thought different, back in the stadium, he can’t be so sure now that you haven’t shown. You’d have come if you still cared. “I’m still confused by the whole Cole thing-,”

“That was my fault,” Ellie interjects, “I thought I was doing the right thing, I didn’t realise that you two were-,” her teeth clash as she bites down, as if to stop saying the word, together. “Whatever you were. And she just got all in her head after she heard you saying all that stuff, it’s what she does, keeps her cards close to her chest until she loses them all.”

“That’s the problem, El,” Luke groans, “If she really liked me, she would have told you. If she was ever serious, you’d have known something was up. She wouldn’t have hidden it from her best friend and told me that she was gonna go out with Cole after all.”

“You know she turned him down, Luke, he said himself, she was into someone else.”

“Yeah, or so he assumed,” he grumbles, recalling the feeling he got when Cole had said as much, back on the day you left.

“And you know on my birthday when she overheard that conversation, she’d literally just told me that she liked you. That’s big for her, Luke. It might have taken her a while but she got there in the end. It’s your own fault for having such a big mouth and ruining it.”

“I told her I didn’t mean it,” he can’t help how whiney he sounds, lips pouting and a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I told her I was sorry.”

“And then you ignored her for almost two weeks until she had no choice but to leave. You don’t get to claim the moral high ground here, I’m sorry.”

“So what am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me.”

“You just have to give her time, don’t give up again.” Ellie nudges him a little too forcefully, the sharp jut of her elbow in his ribs causing him to wince. “Really think about if there’s a version of you that could be friends.”

“What if I don’t want to be friends, what if I don’t wanna keep taking one step forward and three back?”

“Then think about if you’d rather be nothing at all.”

“She hates me that much?”

“I don’t know, she stopped talking to me about it.” Ellie huffs, leaning back a little more into the couch. “But I’d take that as a no. If she hated you, neither of us would hear the end of it, trust me.”

He knows that’s true - all the odd comments you’d drop about Jack back in the beginning of summer. He knows you never hated Jack, but there was always a clear dislike, and you were never shy about voicing it to anyone willing to listen.

If you’re not talking about him at all, it means one of two things. You either give so little of a shit about him that you don’t see a use in bringing him up, or you don’t want to show vulnerability by admitting how much he hurt you.

He knows what he’d put his money on.

“Can’t you talk to her for me? Put a good word in?” He pleads, rounding his eyes in the hopes that Ellie’s pity extends to doing him a solid - he dedicated his entire summer to getting her and Jack together, after all.

“I think it’s best for the both of us if I stay out of her love life. My meddling is what got you guys into this mess in the first place.”

Luke sighs as he resumes his previous position, neck thrown against the back of the couch and eyes cast to the ceiling.

Your room is right above - the bed on which you’d kissed him that first time, away from your scheming at the mall, still made and empty. The bed where you two would lay atop the covers, watching movies on the old staticky TV, sharing snacks between you and spouting commentary into the night.

He wonders, then, if you’d watched anything since the last time - before you left - and it’s that thought that has him pushing himself up and making his way up the stairs.

Despite the amount of time since you were in here, it still kind of smells like you - like melon sunscreen and passionfruit perfume - and he casts a glance around for anything that might remain.

There’s nothing, though. No loose hair ties, forgotten jewellery, not even a book left behind.

And then he checks by the TV - the shelf below it housing a DVD player, and he powers it up just to press eject.

After a few seconds, a disc spins out.

Silver Linings Playbook, with Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.

He might have seen it once or twice, can vaguely remember some of the storyline, but it isn’t until everybody has left the house a good hour or two later that he thinks he should watch it - if it’s the last movie you watched before you left - just to get an idea of your headspace.

When he’s lounging on his own bed, the movie playing on his TV, Jennifer’s Tiffany saying to Bradley’s Pat, “I used to think that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, but now I think that you might maybe be the worst thing. And I'm sorry that I ever met you.” And it turns his stomach in a way he isn’t prepared for, tears pricking at his eyes at the thought of you watching this and thinking the same.

And then Pat responds, and Luke sits with the line for a good minute, pausing the movie as he ponders the response, "Good for you. Come on, let's go dance.”

He wonders if you smiled the same way - soft and small, hopeful that one day the punches you throw to defend yourself are met with the same resistance, with a hand that grabs at them, and instead of fighting back, just pulls you closer.

It’s almost by instinct that he pulls his phone out, loading up the same app he always does when he’s watching a movie, ready to fill in a review when it gets to a part that resonates with him.

And there you are, on his friends feed - the last movie you logged being an hour ago, La La Land, which you had unsurprisingly given 5 stars, and had reviewed with just a quote - It’s pretty strange that we keep bumping into each other. Maybe it means something.

And he grins, really and genuinely beams, for what feels like the first time in a while, a small chuckle rumbling up from his chest as he checks for your review on Silver Linings - the same quote he loved so much sitting there under your 5 star rating.

He doesn’t want to be nothing, he decides, then, like it was ever in question.

And he realises it’s up to him to do something about it.

Luke’s first thought when it comes to fixing thing is to text you.

It’s simple, and it should be easy, but he sits staring at your name in his phone for 30 minutes trying to think of what would be best to say.

A casual, hey, in the hopes that you’d just instinctively type it back.

A call out, like, Bummed you couldn’t come over the other night, thinking you might have been feeling guilty.

A question, or even an invite, along the lines of, Do you want to meet somewhere? Because leaving someone hanging on an invite is just plain cruel.

But then he feels like he doesn’t want to force your hand - weirdly inspired by that La La Land quote you loved so much, about bumping into each other.

Only orchestrating a chance encounter was hard when you weren’t going out. Ellie had mentioned everybody going for drinks at one of the bars on campus, and you never turned up.

She told him your favourite coffee shop, and despite him hanging around all day one time, like a total creep, he didn’t catch sight of you once.

You weren’t with Ellie when he bumped into her at the mall, or at the diner, when he had gone for burgers with the guys and seen a few of your sorority sisters on the other side of the restaurant.

And even when Ellie had told him to come over to the house, that she’d take him into town to pick up some suits, because he was still in his sling and couldn’t drive himself, he had been disheartened to find out you wouldn’t be there - that you had a morning class, and Ellie hadn’t even seen you.

He settles for looking at the cute photo of you and Ellie on the mantle, greek letters painted on your cheeks, beaming smiles as you looked straight into the camera, and he still gets that twinge in his chest even looking at a photo.

A twinge that only grows when he hears a gasp from behind him, and he swiftly turns to see you at the bottom of the staircase, looking back at him, alarmed and surprised.

Luke’s eyes trail slowly up your bare legs, his throat going dry as they land on the oversized shirt you’re wearing - his shirt, he’s pretty sure, although he knows it’s probably best not to comment on that - before cutting up to your face, wide eyes staring back at him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, stepping back toward the staircase where you rest your hand on the bannister, putting as much distance between the two of you as you can without completely retreating up the stairs.

“I uh-,” he stutters, losing his train of thought as he stands there with his mouth agape, taking you in.

He hadn’t been prepared to see you, that much is clear - and especially not like this, dressed in his shirt, which you’ve obviously slept in, hair a little messy, skin bare of any makeup. It reminds him of those mornings in his bed, waking up before the rest of the house, your body bathed in the soft glow from the rising sun, trading sleepy kisses until you would sneak back off to your room.

It makes him yearn for that, again, and feelings like that need some kind of forewarning, otherwise they serve nothing but to make him ache.

“I said I’d drive him to an appointment,” Ellie says as she emerges from the kitchen, car keys in hand, “I though everyone had class this morning, you’re not gonna hand me in for having a guy in the house, are you?”

“I’m not a snitch,” you frown, tugging at the ends of his shirt, “I slept in, I didn’t think anyone else was here either.”

He didn’t exactly need the confirmation, considering your current state, but knowing you slept in his shirt makes the heat creep up his neck, his chest puffing as he really takes in the meaning of it.

So many things about you are screaming that you want nothing to do with him, but you’re sleeping in his old Michigan shirt, one you’d borrowed when your shoulders were burning out on a wakeboarding trip one day, he’s pretty sure - one he never even realised you kept.

“Do you need a ride?” She offers, stepping beside Luke, close enough that in order to look at Ellie, you pretty much have to look his way too, and every time you glance at him, he catches you. “We were gonna go get a drink before, so we’re heading your way anyway. Or you could come with, if you’re skipping."

“Uh, no,” you decline, without even thinking about it, Luke’s chest feeling a little tighter at just how quick you are to avoid being near him. “I’m gonna go to the library.”

“I could still drive you. I doubt you’d mind a detour, would you, Lukey?”

“No,” he breathes out, almost immediately, eyes staying on you. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” you offer Ellie a tight lipped smile, “I’ll walk.”

And that’s that - your figure retreating back up the stairs before Luke has anything to say about it, his shoulders slumping as Ellie offers a friendly pat to his back.

“C’mon then, I need to stop for gas, you’re paying.”

He follows Ellie out to the back of the house, where the girls usually park their cars off the street, and just as he’s climbing into Ellie’s Mini, he glances up to the one of the windows, just in time to catch the quick shift of a curtain.

“Don’t worry,” Ellie says as he adjusts the passenger seat, folding his long legs into the limited space, an assured smile sent his way before she starts up the car. “I’ve got a plan.”

“What happened to no more meddling?” He huffs as he buckled himself in.

“I can’t sit back and watch my best friend become boring trying to avoid you, Luke,” she sighs, “It’s borderline painful.”

—

You don’t know when managing your social life became Ellie’s full time job - as if the two of you aren’t tumbling into the depths of your final year of school with very little direction or guidance - but you’re growing tired of it, quick.

First, it had been, you’re coming to the bar and I’m not taking no for an answer, except, she had taken no for an answer, she just relished in making you feel bad for it after.

Then it had been, I need your opinion on halloween costumes, and she had insisted you join her at the mall, but you had an appointment with the careers counsellor that you really couldn’t miss, and she had to settle with sending you photos, again adding incessant messages about how she wouldn’t let you turn down the next invitation out.

Never mind trying to avoid bumping into Luke during his extended stay, avoiding Ellie was becoming a real task - slipping out before she can corner you in the mornings and staying out most of the day.

She caught you off guard, the other day, though - inviting Luke around. Sure, you were supposed to be in class - would have been, if your alarm had gone off on time - but still, bringing him into your space was like crossing a line, breaking an unspoken rule.

She’s supposed to be on your side. She isn’t supposed to be bringing the guy who hurt you into your house and driving him around town like his personal assistant, all from the good of her heart.

She’s just trying to kiss up to Jack.

At least, you thought so, until she sent you a text later that day - a bunch of pictures of Luke in different suits, tailored perfectly to his lean figure, shirts that stretched taut across his broad shoulders and pants that clung perfectly to his hips, followed by the message, thoughts?

You had many, but none that you could possibly sent to her - only replying with a question mark until she apologised, claiming they were meant for Jack’s approval.

It became clear then, what she was doing - flaunting him in front of you until you burst at the seams, like one of those jackets looked like it was going to do in a few of the pictures from the back of Luke in the tailor shop. Sending you those had been no accident.

And that’s why you were sceptical when the weekend rolled around, and she was begging and pleading for you to go with her to a party at the hockey house - promising you that he was finally heading back to Jersey, and definitely wasn’t going to be around.

She’d buttered you up with groans of, I feel like I never see you anymore, and, school is stressing me out, already, I just want to let loose with my best friend!

And it was the promise that she’d let you wear a skirt you’ve been eyeing in her closet for the past two years that sealed the deal - a vintage Diesel mini that she had thrifted and guarded like her whole life depended on it.

You can’t help it, anyway - it’s been so long since you’ve been out like that - probably summer being the last time - and you need to let loose too.

And that’s how you end up walking hand in hand through the front door, Ellie having styled your hair, the two of you looking like a million dollars, and it’s the first time in months that you aren’t disturbed by the feeling of eyes on you.

You kind of feel like your old self - confident, self-assured, like there isn’t a soul on earth who could possibly make you doubt yourself.

You wish the universe gave you at least five minutes to sit with that feeling before you saw him.

Before you saw Luke, sling-free, bottle in hand, leaning against the wall, talking to Victoria Anderson, a girl you know he has history with - a girl you have history with, yourself.

You hate how quick the switch within you flips - the slight slump of your posture, the tension in your jaw, all your self-worth seeping from your pores like your body is actively trying to kill it.

Your hand slips from Ellie’s, immediately heading in the opposite direction to where Luke is - making a bee-line straight for the kitchen, straight for a drink.

Ellie is hot on your heels, grasping at your arm to keep up, “I’m sorry,” she calls after you.

“You said he wouldn’t be here,” you grumble, shoving through the swinging door and heading straight for the line of bottles on the counter.

“What am I, his keeper?” She scoffs, trying to play it off as a lighthearted joke, but you can see it in her eyes that she knew. “I don’t know where he’s gonna be at all hours of the day.”

“You said he was going back to Jersey.”

“Yeah, well, I must have got my days mixed up!”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, pouring out a shot from the first bottle you find without even reading the label, and throwing it back before you can think twice. You pour yourself a proper drink, after - a vodka with diet coke - and sip at it just to cool your nerves, trying to calm yourself down.

You don’t want to be mad at Ellie - whatever she’s doing, she’s doing it because she cares - but you’re so tired of overthinking this whole thing. All you want is a break from it all, and no one is willing to give you one.

“I’m gonna go find Ethan,” you tell her, figuring you can kill two birds with one stone - ask him about the class you missed the other morning, and avoid speaking to Luke, “If you want to make this up to me, I need you to tell Luke to steer clear, okay?”

“Fine,” she scowls, rolling her eyes as she has to pour her own drink.

You storm off back toward the door, and just as you get close, it swings open, the edge of it knocking straight into you - into the hand holding your freshly poured drink, which is now dripping down your front.

Your whole body tenses at the sensation of the liquid seeping through your shirt, only momentarily thankful that you hadn’t added ice before you remember the coke - remember the vintage skirt, with the light denim wash.

You hear Ellie groan from behind you, and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that you’ll magically gain some sort of time travelling superpower - a rewind button, like Click.

“Are you okay?”

Of course it had to be him, you think - because you’ve somehow unsettled the entire balance of the universe, and this is how it’s decided to repay you, your eyes opening to find those concerned, grey-green eyes peering back at you.

He takes the empty cup that’s being squished in your grip and tosses it into a trash can to the side before you feel a hesitant hand on your side, watching as he surveys the damage.

“And here I thought that skirt couldn’t get uglier.”

Victoria’s piercing blue eyes gleam back at you, a sinister smirk plastered on her lips, and you’re lunging before you even know it until a strong arm curls around your waist, the heat of his skin slipping straight into the gap between your skirt and t-shirt, and sending a shiver straight down the spine that’s now pressed to his front.

“Hey, c’mon,” he warns, pulling you back with enough force that there’s a good couple of feet between you and Victoria now, and her eyes narrow at all the points he’s touching you. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You think you only let him guide you away to piss her off - and it isn’t until he’s ushering you into the small downstairs bathroom and closing the door behind him that you realise how little consideration you put into that.

You watch as Luke retrieves a towel from the small cupboard by the door, forgetting he probably still knows this place like the back of his hand, and starts to work at the front of your t-shirt before you snatch it away.

“I’ve got it, thanks.” You snap, entirely frustrated with the whole situation than you think you are with him, a small swirling of guilt immediately bubbling up inside you.

You dab at the skirt, first, hoping there’s some way that it’s salvageable, or Ellie’s going to murder you. You lean against the counter by the sink, and glance down at the damage. It looks just like a water stain, for now, unfortunately placed, but you won’t know for sure until it dries, and dabbing at it with a towel isn’t really going to fix that.

“Did she hurt your hand?” Luke asks, low voice breaking the silence you were starting to cherish, and it’s only then that you realise where the door hit you. Your knuckles ache a little, but you can still flex your fingers, so you figure they’ll just be bruised tomorrow.

You do wish you could have bruised them another way - maybe with a fist to Victoria Anderson’s smug grin - but you’re supposed to be a pacifist, so maybe not. If anyone’s going to break that pattern, it would be her - your rival in every way ever since you came to Michigan. Academically, in all the same classes, socially, in opposing sororities, and even romantically, with her somehow always looking out for the same guys.

She’d even been at one of the parties back at the lake house, with her hands all over Luke - you remember hearing her shrill laugh and feeling like someone had just drug their nails down a chalkboard, all semblance of peace instantly lost.

You’re brought out of whatever fiery daydream even her name elicits with the touch of Luke’s fingers to yours, the soft brush of his thumb over your knuckles as he checks for any real damage.

“I’m fine,” you croak out, dazed a little by the feeling before you tear your hand away, “It was just a knock.”

“You want me to kick her ass?”

You blame the shot you took for the way you snort out a laugh - caught by surprise and unable to even consider the reaction, slipping straight back into your unguarded self around him - like the walls you’ve tried so hard to rebuild just dissolved. Not even a knock or a tumble of bricks, just them fading into nothing like magic.

Luke smiles back, soft and hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to fade away, too.

And then there’s that silence you thought you wanted - heavy and tense, and it’s too much for you to handle, so you slip past him, wordlessly, and head straight back to the door.

And just as your fingers grasp at the handle and you prepare yourself to pull, a large hand lays flat on the surface beside you, trapped by a warm chest closing in on your back.

It’s quiet for a minute, the dull thump of the bass from the music somewhere else in the house now distant and fading, and the room feels charged way beyond the atmosphere of the party you’ve been away from a little too long.

You see the bend in his elbow before you feel his breath on the back of your neck, and you can feel the distance closing - an inch or two now, so close that you have to stay vigilant not to take even the slightest step back.

“Luke,” you breathe, your throat stinging in preparation for some sort of hurt, and your lip trembling until you start to chew on it.

“Just one more minute.”

“You have to let me go.”

“Please, I just want to talk.”

You turn, slowly, and you don’t know why you do it to yourself, because it’s inevitable you’ll fall prey to the pleading look in his eyes. Your back falls against the door, and you’re craning your neck to look up at him, blinking slow as his eyes flicker between your own.

Every passing second feels like a minute, and just as you’re about to give in - to tell him to go ahead and talk, the door vibrates behind you, a fist banging into the other side.

“Please tell me the skirt is okay!”

You press a hand flat to his chest and push, wedging some much needed space between the two of you - enough that you can swing the door open and face Ellie, and save yourself from plunging into whatever rabbit hole that would have taken you down.

“I won’t know until it’s dry, but if it’s bad, we’ll take it to the cleaners, okay?”

“Ugh,” Ellie groans, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you back to the kitchen for another drink, “I’m so running her ass over the next time I see her on the street.”

You look back at Luke, still stood in the doorway, watching the whole way until you disappear around the corner, and it’s only when you can’t see him anymore that your heart rate returns to an acceptable speed.

You successfully manage to avoid Luke for a good couple of hours, almost forgetting him, miraculously, despite being in a house filled with his closest friends. There’s even a point where you think he might have left, until you stumble out into the backyard to a group setting up a small fire to keep warm.

You’re too buzzed to comment on the legality of it, so far gone that the thought of campus police coming around barely even crosses your mind, and you throw yourself down into one of the camp chairs with a drink in hand as the group discuss how to pass the time.

You can’t remember who suggests Never Have I Ever, too distracted by the figure settling down on the opposite side of the fire, long limps stretching almost comically out of the small chair, meeting your eyes for a moment before you look away at the arrival of Nick, who comes with cards in hand.

You’d usually make some sort of comment about how juvenile it is, but there’s this part of you that’s probably trying to cling a little to that, lately, so you let it pass, leaning almost sleepily back into your chair as it kicks off.

The game is pretty tame compared to other times you’ve played it, stuff like, never have I ever crashed a car, and, never have I ever broken a bone, coming from the top of the deck, and there’s only a few complaints about it needing more spice before it gets to Ellie’s turn to pick, a few people down from you.

“Never have I ever,” Ellie drags out before picking a card, flipping between her manicured fingers and smiling slowly as she reads the rest, “Been in love,” she coos, turning it to show the rest of the group with a love-struck grin.

A chorus of groans sing out from around the circle, Luca reaching to swipe the card from Ellie as she takes a big chug from her red cup. “That’s so lame,” he huffs, “Pick another, this isn’t the Ellie show. We get it, you're happy, doesn't mean the rest of us should suffer.”

You glance down at your empty cup as the two of them start to argue about the rules of the game, Ellie grumbling how she didn’t write the cards, and Luca retorting with how she could have at least gone off-script to make it a little more interesting.

If you had any semblance of your inhibitions, any control of your reactions, your gaze would have stayed on the last few drops swirling around the base of your drink. Your eyes wouldn’t have trailed up slowly, past the dancing flames of the makeshift-campfire, and fallen onto another cup at the opposite side of the circle.

It wouldn’t have watched intently as long, slender fingers raised to bring said cup up, pressing to parted lips, the contents gulped down as you stare at the movement of his throat around the liquid.

When you dare to look higher, you find him already staring back at you, piercing green eyes burning hotter than the fire between you, and your own throat goes dry as you watch.

And of course he makes a show of it, squaring his shoulders and swiping a thumb across his bottom lip to make sure there's no residue. No evidence of all that he had just admitted to. Nothing but the memory of it burned already into the back of your retinas, lingering like an ache all the way down your spine.

No one else seems to notice - but you suppose that’s just how things go between you and Luke. One more secret to add to the ever-growing pile.

Your hand trembles as if it wants to copy him, but you’re thankful for the last shred of dignity you have that tells you that even if you wanted to drink - even if you could play it off as assuming the question had been vetoed, and you were just quenching your thirst in the brief break in the game - there’s nothing left. Even if you wanted to drink - which you brain is so loudly telling you that you don’t - you can’t.

And when Luke’s gaze shifts, lowers painstakingly slow as everything else fades to background noise around the two of you, you don’t know why you find yourself tilting your cup when his eyes land on it, making a show of just how empty it is.

“You’re not gonna drink?” Ethan frowns from beside you, a nudge of his elbow knocking at yours and bringing you back down to earth with a painful splat.

Why would he assume that?

“What?” You ask, frowning as you meet his chocolate brown eyes, the reflection of the flames basking them in a warm, melting glow.

“He said never have I ever been kicked out of a bar,” he chuckles, quirking a brow as your face morphs from one of confusion to one of recollection. “I know for a fact you have.”

“Oh, right,” you laugh, nervously, the reaction coming out more like a stuttered breath as the panic swirling in your chest dissipates just the slightest. “I’m running on empty. I’m gonna go get a refill.”

Ethan nods as he shuffles a little to let you out of the circle, watching with narrowed eyes as you lift yourself from the chair and edge your way out of the group and back towards the house.

The kitchen is thankfully empty when you get back inside, sliding the door shut behind you to block out the noise, your thoughts overbearing enough without still being able to hear everyone yelling out in the yard.

You move almost on autopilot, heading for the row of bottles on the counter and reaching straight for the vodka you’ve been mixing with diet coke all night.

You pour out a measured shot first, swirl it in the cup before lifting the it straight to your lips, leaving little room to think much more about it, and throwing your head back.

The liquid burns the whole way down - all the way from the back of your mouth, past your aching chest, and into the pit of your stomach, pooling there in a nauseating bubble of heat and regret - and you don’t know entirely if the need to drink was just to quench your thirst, to alleviate the warmth spiking up your neck, to quell the rampant beating of your heart, or to play along with the game. With Luke’s game.

Maybe some mysteries are better left unsolved.

He wasn’t in love with you.

You think you’d know. He would have told you - he’s hardly shy about voicing his opinion, you learned that the hard way.

He’s just being cruel, now, you’ve convinced yourself - probably payback for earlier, for leaving him in the bathroom and telling him to let you go. One final act of defiance, because he has to have the last word.

God, why would you even play along?

You shouldn’t have even looked his way - should have kept your eyes down, then you wouldn’t still be feeling like your whole body is on fire.

Your eyes dart up at the sound of the screen door opening, and your heart thuds in your chest at the sight of who walks through.

You hold your breath as he slowly makes his way toward you - cautious steps carrying him toward the counter where you stand, and he places his empty cup on the surface beside yours,

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I don’t have to avoid you forever,” you shrug, circling around him and trying not to let him trap you again, “I just have to avoid you until you go home.”

“I don’t want to go home without us talking,” he grasps at your wrist before you can fully get past him, levelling you with a tired look, one that says he’s resigned to his fate, but he can’t rest until he tries one last time. “Please.”

“Luke,” you groan, the remnants of intoxication slowly fading into exhaustion.

“Just one conversation.” He begs, “Then you can be done with me, I’ll leave you alone.”

Your lips twist as you try not to give under the weight of his softened, pleading gaze. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that - and he’s technically surpassed the efforts you had made back before you left the house toward the end of summer, now almost 3 weeks since you had turned him down back at the football game.

And do you really want him to leave you alone? You’re not entirely sure. Maybe talking to him can help you finally figure that out.

“Fine.” You acquiesce. “One conversation.”

“You want me to walk you home?” He asks, his voice soft and low, a tilt to his head that makes his curls shuffle and a caring glint in his eye that makes your legs feel like jelly. It’s probably for the best if he does, you think, you’re at a serious fall-risk now. Tired and buzzed, a lethal combination.

You nod, wordlessly, watching as he seemingly tries to fight a small smile, straightening up to swipe your cup, stacking it with his own and throwing it in the trash.

“C’mon, I already gave Ellie a heads up, I’ll come back for her.”

You soften a little at the thought of him considering her - even if it isn’t about you. If it’s on Jack’s behalf, and he’s just being a good brother, him looking out for your best friend is still sweet.

You let him guide you out of the house, and it’s quiet in a way you can’t stand, walking side by side down the otherwise empty street.

“You’re out of your sling, then?” You don’t know why you feel better to make small talk - but waiting with bated breath for him to say what he’s been trying to for so long now makes your heart pound almost painfully against your ribcage.

“Yeah,” he flexes his arm a little, as if to prove a point. “I’m back in Jersey at the end of the week, will probably be doing no contact training for a while.”

“How long until you’re playing again?”

“They’re saying it’s looking like November,” he tells you, “Which sucks, but at least I don’t need surgery like Jack.”

“Do you miss it?” You ask, conscious of the way your steps are slowly turning toward his and trying to straighten yourself up. “Being back in New Jersey with your team, with Jack?”

“Jack doesn’t give anybody a chance to miss him, you should know that by now.” He grumbles, "In my texts 24/7 like it’s his second job.”

“Ellie’s too,” you tell him in a breathy chuckle, crossing your arms over your torso just to keep your hands busy with something as he shoves his back in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know where he finds the time,”

“He doesn’t need time, he’s annoying to his very core.” Luke scoffs, “I do miss the guys though, but there’s a couple group chats. And I’d probably miss the guys here if I was back there.”

“So either way you’re missing somebody?”

He gives an affirmative hum, kicking a rock down the side of the curb, figuring you don’t quite realise just how true that question rings to him. The sorority house is at the end of the path, now - closer than either of you really anticipated, and you almost start to panic, like the walls are closing in on you, like you’re running out of time.

“Listen-,”

“Look-,”

You both stop in the middle of the sidewalk, looking at each other wide eyed until you press your lips together, and gesture for him to carry on.

“I miss you,” he says, plain and simple, like it’s all he can muster up - and if you’re honest, it’s all you want to hear, an acknowledgement that without you in his life, there’s this gaping hole that no one else can fill. “I know that if I want to fix things between us, that I should give you this huge speech about how much I fucked things up, and that I should have trusted you, and listened to you when you tried to talk to me, and I do think all those things. I know those things, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to say them without it sounding like some bullshit excuse, and I figure I just need to be honest with you.

“I feel like the whole time we were together, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know, like I could never just be in the moment with you because I felt like it was gonna end. And I think maybe you were doing the same.”

It’s crazy, you think, how well he knows you.

“And neither of us were ever gonna be ready to be anything more, because we weren’t even acknowledging that this thing between us probably wasn’t healthy.”

You’re quite thankful for the sting in the back of your throat, because you don’t know what you’d say to that, if you could speak.

It hurts to hear it, but he’s right.

“I just wanted to believe it was a good thing for as long as you’d let me, and when you said you’d have dated Cole, and that you’d have thrown it all away, and I just left without a fight, I-,” he blinks, like he’s trying to rid himself of the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, like he doesn’t want to give in and let them shed. “I don’t know, I thought it was best to avoid you all together than watch you put that final nail in the coffin, or whatever.”

“You know I never went out with Cole, right?”

“I know. He told me before he left for training camp. The day you left. Almost considered running after you to apologise for being such a dick. Even thought about flagging you down in departures at Wayne County.”

You let that thought sit for a moment - Luke chasing you down like something out of one of the romantic comedies you would watch together - like the angsty movies you watched after you went home, laying on your bed and wishing the two of you could have had a happy ending.

“Probably for the best you didn’t chase me through the airport,” you tell him with a wistful smile, “declarations of love freak me out,”

“I thought they might.” He chuckles, breathily, his heart not entirely in it.

“I also took the greyhound.”

“You know serial killers get those things, right.”

“You watch too many movies.”

His eyes flicker to yours, then, knowing and amused - like a new inside joke has cemented itself into your dynamic.

“I don’t want to be nothing with you.”

It’s a weird statement, almost nonsensical, but you get it.

It’s what you’ve been trying for ever since you left Michigan, after all, and especially after you returned.

You let the thought settle for a moment, your lips twisting and your eyes tearing up as you watch him wait for a response.

“You really hurt me, Luke.” Your voice trembles as you say it, and you think you’re only part spurred on by liquid courage, the rest of it probably the incessant need to open up to somebody.

“I know,” he practically whispers back, choked up as much as you are.

“I don’t think I can do that again.”

He nods, pressing his tongue to the side of his cheek like he’s trying not to press you on it, stepping back ever so slightly and huffing out a deep breath.

You almost think he might retreat, entirely - accepting your reluctance this final time and letting you go, just like you’d asked, earlier.

“What about if it’s not,” he shakes his head, sighing as he tries to think of the best way to say it, “What if it’s not romantic, between us?”

“You really think we could be friends?”

“You don’t?” He asks, wincing a little like the thought of anything else is painful.

“We’re hardly gonna see each other,” you tell him, “Is there really any point in keeping it up?”

“I’d like to try.”

You don’t know what concept hurts you the most, the thought of trying and failing, or not trying at all. Either way, you lose him.

You wish, for a moment, you were in any way good at math - that you could work out the statistic for the other option, the one where it actually works.

The option where neither of you get hurt, and you get to keep him.

You imagine that it’s slim.

“I don’t know, Luke,” you sigh, unable to shake the heaviness of your doubt, “It feels like we’re just stretching out the inevitable, here.”

“I don’t think so,” he fights back, taking that step forward that he just took back, “Just friends, it doesn’t have to be anything more than that. Hell, if you want to build up to friends, I’ll take that, too. Just not nothing. I miss you too much to be nothing.”

You miss him, too. You missed him the past 3 weeks while he’s been in town, and the two of you have somehow managed to avoid seeing each other for the most part. You missed him for the month you were back at your mom’s house. You missed him those ten days over in the lake house, when he was still technically right in front of you the whole time.

“Can I think about it?”

“Yeah!” He nods, eagerly, the slight etching of a smile spreading across his lips. “Yes, you can think about it.”

You nod back, then, hesitant and before you can do something stupid, like wrap your arms around him as a goodbye, you step away.

You bid him goodnight, offering a thank you for walking you home, and you retreat into the safety of the house, watching through the window by the front door until he disappears back down the street.

The start of your semester passes in a chaotic blur, and you very quickly, and very frantically, find yourself panicking a little about the what’s-next of it all.

With the last few months of your headspace occupied entirely by a certain brunette, you realise quickly that you really need to knuckle down and figure out what you’re going to do with yourself once school is over.

And that’s what brings you to New York City in the middle of October - one of your very few prospects for the aftermath of your college career discussed over iced teas in Midtown, Manhattan, before you’re crossing state lines through the Holland Tunnel and scrambling to get ready in the hotel room you and Ellie had booked.

You don’t know how you managed to hide all of your efforts behind a veil of secrecy, but Ellie had been all too distracted by you agreeing to accompany her to Jack’s team halloween party in Jersey City, and so she had little brain power left to question where you disappeared off to, or why you’d possibly have any sort of appointment anywhere near here as soon as you told her she could pick up a costume for you.

You should have known it would be something ridiculous, evidenced by the poofy yellow dress and cartoonish crown she had left on your bed for you to change into.

When you emerge from the bathroom, fully dressed, she’s stood in her Princess Peach costume - the colour palette a lot more complementary to her than the yellow is to you, but you can hardly fight her on it now - especially knowing Jack is out there somewhere dressed as Mario.

You don’t know how it slips your mind that he and Luke play for the same team, or that they’re brothers, or that he could possibly at the same party, dressed as Luigi. Not until you and Ellie are walking into the party a little after it starts, and you meet his eye for the first time in a couple of weeks, your mouth falling agape as you realise just what Ellie has done.

You don’t even have a second to call her out before she’s prancing off to some far side of the room with Jack, all over him after their own extended time apart, and you literally have no option but to sidle up to Luke, tail between your legs, cringing at the entire situation as you stand beside him in a room full of his peers after you had only just shut him down not long ago.

Thankfully, it’s Luke - and he would rather choke than make you feel uncomfortable about it.

He offers an easy smile, amused, even, as he greets you from the tall table he’s occupying, handing you the beer he just opened for himself and reaching for another from the table behind him.

“I don’t even know why I agreed to come with them, I knew they’d just split and make out in the corner,” you roll your eyes, taking a swig from the bottle and grimacing a little at the taste. “I don’t even know anybody.”

“You know me,” he shrugs, “I don’t mind keeping you company.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff, “You literally just came back, the last thing you need is to be lumped in a corner with me all night when you’ve hardly seen your teammates for months. I’m just gonna duck out in a little bit, no one will care.”

“I’ll care,” he chuckles lightheartedly, the ease in which the statement slips out and the certainty in which you feel it sends a slight shiver down your spine. “I’ve been back in training for a week, trust me, I’ve already had enough.”

You sigh, trying to ignore the convincing look he’s giving you - head titled, a lopsided smile and eyes filled with hope.

It was only just under two weeks ago that you told him you didn’t want to be friends, so you can’t really understand why he’s so intent on you sticking around. He should be personally ordering you an Uber back to your hotel and pushing you out of the door, but he’s giving you this pleading pout now that’s making you think his night would fall to pieces if you left so soon.

The thing is, you’re not that great around people you don’t know, not lately, anyway - especially not when those people are all big, bulky high performance athletes (and Jack) and their drop dead gorgeous partners. You feel like an intruder, like you don’t belong, and you can’t imagine anything happening to change your mind.

“I still feel like such an outsider at these things,” Luke huffs, elbows resting on the tall table in front of you, his body leaning onto it in the absence of any stools nearby until he’s more around your height. “This is the first time Jack’s brought anybody with him so I can’t exactly stick to his side like normal.”

You frown.

Is he serious?

Luke has never been the type to stick to his brother’s side - not from what you’ve seen, anyway, and you’d pretty much spent your entire summer observing the guy - you’re way past the point of trying to deny that, now.

“Isn’t that Seamus over there?” You point to the opposite side of the room, where you’re pretty sure you recognise another of yours and Luke’s previous classmates. “Aren’t you two friends?”

“We got into a pretty heated discussion during Thursday Night Football the other night, we’re on a break.”

You almost forgot how quick Luke can be, the slight quiver in the corner of his mouth giving away his attempts at deception, but you’re hardly in any position to call him out on it.

He’s trying to do you a favour, after all.

“In fact, I need you to stay for my protection. He might be out for my neck, you can’t let me die in a Luigi costume, that would be cruel.”

You snort as you take him in in his entirety, from the ridiculous hat, to the stretched out one-piece outfit topped off with a pair of white sneakers.

“Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to have a moustache?”

“It’s in my pocket, didn’t want to make Jack feel bad, ‘cause he can’t grow one and all,” he mutters, reaching into the front of the outfit to retrieve the stick-on prop, the back still taped up and in-tact.

“Right,” you scoff, taking it from his hand and peeling the tape, “Jack can’t grow facial hair.”

You reach forward and press it to his upper lip, holding it in place until it sticks, careful not to actually touch his mouth in the process.

“I can grow it,” he rolls his eyes, “I just don’t suit it.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug as you pull back, admiring the results and trying not to laugh, “I’d say you suit it just fine.”

You reach into the pocket of your own dress to retrieve your phone, and snap a picture just to show him, pressing your lips together as you see his eyes widen in horror.

“Delete that,” he huffs, and you just about manage to stop him before he rips the thing off.

“No,” you whine, “Keep it on, it’s funny!”

“I don’t want to look funny, I want to look cool and hot.” He huffs, frowning when he seemingly realises how ridiculous that sounds.

“Halloween costumes aren’t supposed to be hot.”

“Easy for you to say, Princess,” he gestures down to your dress, and you once again have a visceral reaction to how natural it is for him to say things like that. You feel your ears going warm, and you break eye contact just so that he doesn’t see straight through you.

“I meant to say, sorry about this,” you gesture down, too, all of a sudden feeling every fibre of the costume that’s covering your skin, “I don’t know why I didn’t connect the dots sooner when Ellie said she and Jack were doing Mario and Peach. She just said she’d get me a costume, I didn’t think that we’d be-,”

“A couple?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s no big deal,” Luke shrugs, sipping at his drink with a nonchalant frown. “S’just a costume. Besides, what else could you have been? I don’t think they sell sexy Goomba outfits.”

“Please,” you scoff, swatting lightly at the blue overalls stretched across his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous, if anything, I’d be sexy Toad.”

“Hmm,” he considers, with a long glance down your figure. “That might have actually worked.”

You feel the heat creep back up your neck before you can regulate yourself, not concealed at all by the sweetheart neckline of your dress, or the way Luke’s eye linger on any exposed bit of skin.

You press your lips together and divert your attention to Jack and Ellie in the corner, feeling every extended inch of Luke’s presence beside you, your heart thumping at the mere proximity of him, and you start to chew on your bottom lip.

“Can’t believe we tried so hard to get them together,” you mumble, watching as they start to kiss, “They’re disgusting.”

“Absolutely revolting,” he agrees, “We were out of our minds all summer.”

You know he’s referring to the scheme you two kept up, you’re the one who even brought the topic into conversation, but you can’t help the instinctive way your chest starts to ache again at the mere mention of summer.

The two of you had talked about this, back in Ann Arbor, before he had come back to Jersey. You’re supposed to be over it, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. You swallow thickly before reaching for your drink and chugging down the contents, avoiding his gaze as he watches you.

The thought of leaving crosses your mind again, but there’s a larger part of you that has missed this - missed him, maybe - a little too much, and those weeks back in Michigan last month had only served to weaken your resolve.

Keeping your distance had been a giant failure from the second you started to attempt it, and Luke is persistent - that much has always been obvious - so denying him any sort of contact is just pointless, now.

You had thought, back when he had dropped you off at the house the other week, that turning down his offer of friendship had been the right thing to do. You’d told him you would think about it, but it was always going to end up in rejection.

He’s in Jersey, you’re in Michigan. He has a really hectic schedule and career, and you’re supposed to be putting your head down and studying for your final year.

He broke your heart, and you broke his right back.

But you realise that you were naive to think that your paths would hardly cross.

Your best friend is dating his brother. You have so many mutual friends that you can hardly avoid him when he’s back in town. And beyond all that, you miss the versions of the two of you that just got on - before it all got messy in the summer.

The banter, the inside jokes, the deep understanding of how each other worked.

And you had regretted it since - turning his offer down.

Bringing it back up again is daunting, though. Opening yourself up to him, to say that you’d been thinking about him this whole time, and feel a deep, ever growing pit in your stomach now at the thought of being nothing, just like he had said he felt.

“Listen,” you start, with all intentions of figuring it out as you go along, only now feeling a serious urge to fix things, somehow, before you go back home, tomorrow, “I-,”

“Hold on, I gotta introduce you to someone. Hey, Pesce,” he calls out to his ever so-slightly taller teammate as he passes nearby, waving him to stop by the table the two of you are at before he walks away. He introduces you both by name, and you don’t miss the silent interaction between the two of them as he does, wide eyes and wiggling brows, a telepathic taunt from Brett and a wordless warning from Luke. “She’s my friend from back in Michigan, and he’s been my rehab buddy.”

You allow yourself to be distracted by that - not Ellie’s friend. His. Not a plus one of a plus one, or an outsider hovering around the edges of a private party. Someone he wants his teammates to know.

You like it more than you ever thought you would.

You feel your lips turning up into a natural smile, and a weight lifting off your shoulders - 7 words erasing the need for an entire conversation, already.

You probably could have told him to go fuck himself and that you hated his guts back on the street outside your sorority, and he’d still be out here calling you his friend.

Persistent.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you tell Brett, reaching out to shake his hand, matching his firm grip and meeting his steely gaze.

“You too,” he smiles back, “I’ve heard-,”

“Lukey! Finally got a girl to notice you, huh?”

Another of Luke’s teammates approaches the table, and the absolute comedy of being introduced to a bunch of people in ridiculous costumes isn’t lost on you as he comes closer, a gigantic, teasing smirk almost overshadowed by a glaring red headpiece he wears.

“Nice to see ya, Curtis,” you watch as Luke embraces his other teammate, a wry, crooked grin on his face as he rolls his eyes fondly, and you try to ignore the weight of Brett’s discerning gaze on you. When he introduces you this time, Curtis shows no sign of recognition at your name, offering you a kind smile and extending his hand for you to shake.

“Not talking your head off, is he? We’ve tried to train it out of him, but he’s a stubborn thing,” he chuckles, ruffling Luke’s hair like he’s petting an excitable puppy.

“I’m used to it by now,” you shrug back, smiling when Luke scoffs, returning to your side.

“Nice costume,” Curtis looks Luke up and down, and it’s like you can see him trying to formulate a joke in his head, your lips twisting as you notice Luke anticipating the same, watching with a raised brow and a bored roll of his eyes. “That might be the closest we ever come to seeing you with facial hair.”

“Big talk coming from a dude dressed as shrimp.”

“I’m obviously a lobster, Luke.”

“Obviously,” Luke mimics back like a child, his face sour and his lips pouted as his older teammate just laughs in his face.

“C’mon, man,” Brett claps a hand on Curtis’ back, “Enough bruising the kid’s ego, you owe me a drink, remember?”

He knocks his free fist against Luke’s as he passes, offering you a wink and a nice to meet you before he’s guiding Curtis over to the bar and leaving the two of you alone, once more.

“Sorry about them,” Luke mutters, “I could save them both from a burning building and they’d still treat me like their annoying baby brother.”

“It’s cute,” you shrug, sipping at your drink and catching his eye as they narrow toward you, clearly taking further offence at your choice of adjective. “They do it ‘cause they love you, Luke, it’s sweet.”

You try not to react to what you’ve just said - try not to think of that sentiment in the context of your own interactions with Luke, lightheartedly poking fun at him just to get a reaction because he can be so gut-wrenchingly adorable.

It’s not the same.

But you can tell he’s thinking it too, looking at you with eyes that see straight through you, and a tilt to his head that’s almost mocking.

“I uhm,” he sighs, stepping back a little closer to you and leaning down on the table so that he has to look up to meet your eye, “I told Pesch about you. About us.”

You blink back at him, waiting for him to say more - not really knowing how to respond, because you kind of had a feeling anyway. Brett has the worst poker face you’ve ever seen in your life.

“It’s just been me and him training together, and we were getting to know each other, and you know how it is, he asked me about how I spent my summer, and about girls, and there’s just you for both, so it sorta just came out. Plus, I kinda felt like I had to talk about it with someone or I was gonna go crazy.”

You look down, giving a slight nod of understanding - because you do get it.

Also, the confirmation of something you’ve been wondering is kind of a relief. He hadn’t started anything with anyone else after you left, or back in Michigan, when you were making everything so hard on him.

There’s just him for you, too.

And it’s really hard, having one person consume your thoughts in such a way when you have no outlet to properly talk it through with anyone.

You never felt like you could talk to Ellie about any of it, and having all these feelings fizzing up inside you for so long is starting to make you feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption.

Luke had done the sensible thing, finding an unaffiliated third party and seeking advice from someone with no bias. No scathing comments from his brothers, judgement from any of the guys back in Michigan or pitiful looks from your best friend.

“I didn’t say anything bad,” he assures you, “Not that there is anything bad, I promise I don’t think poorly of you or anything, and I wouldn’t go around telling random people if I did, especially not my teammates, I don’t want you to think-,”

“Luke, it’s fine,” you place a hand on his forearm, his eyes snapping up to meet yours at the slightest touch, wide and alarmed, like he feels like he’s digging himself into a hole. “I get it. Sometimes I feel like I’m gonna go crazy, too.”

“You do?” He frowns, like that was the last thing he expected you to say.

You had told him you were hurt, so it can’t come as that much of a surprise that you feel some type of way about everything that went down between the two of you.

You’re not that heartless.

“What did you say to him?” You ask, hoping to engage with his incessant need to talk, rather than any attempt to eke information out of you. “About us?”

“Just that I didn’t like how we left things,” he tells you as you lean beside him, “It’s hard, not knowing where we stand, or what it’s gonna be like when I see you again. I still get the urge all the time to text you, even about stupid things. Someone was telling me about this Matthew McConaughey movie the other day, and I thought of you. Wanted to ask if you’d seen it.”

“It’s probably safe to assume I’ve seen all the Matthew McConaughey films. Even the bad ones.”

“It wasn’t on your Letterboxd.”

You swat at his bicep, your lips turning slowly into a grin as you can’t help but laugh at how little he cares about hiding his intentions.

You’d caught onto him monitoring your account somewhere between him coincidentally watching Notting Hill a couple days after you did while he was back in Michigan, the five star rating he gave to Call Me By Your Name, and him somehow knowing all the most obscure but gut-wrenching quotes from all the movies that really tore your heart out - writing them in his reviews like he was talking to you in some secret language that only the two of you spoke.

I think I’d miss you even if we never met, from The Wedding Date.

I’ll do anything to make you happy. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it, from Past Lives.

There will be a piece of you in me always, from Her.

All movies you had listed after going home from the lake house - had laid in bed with teary eyes and trembling lips for the most part, and associated all those same quotes with him, too. And even without you putting them in your own reviews, he just knew every time which part of the movie made you think of your relationship.

You’d even tried baiting him out with Barbie, the other week, snorting to yourself despite your heartache when you imagined him seriously typing out, I only exist within the warmth of your gaze, without it, I'm just a little blonde guy who can't do flips, and hoping you would see it.

If anyone else had done it, it would probably have been corny. You’d have blocked them, the level of perception and lowkey invasion of privacy making your skin crawl - but Luke seeing you was different. Him being on the same wavelength - feeling the same feelings, thinking the same thoughts - was something you couldn’t ignore.

“You’re not supposed to admit to cyber stalking me, you idiot.”

“What?” He chuckles, rubbing at his arm, “I missed watching movies with you.”

He shrugs at that like it’s nothing, but you can feel your cheeks go warm even if his don’t. You missed watching movies with him too - missed the long stretch of his legs far surpassing yours on top of the sheets, and the way he’d hold out candy for you to get some every few minutes.

“Plus, you were stalking me, too. Why else would you be watching The Mighty Ducks on a Saturday night?”

“I thought it might teach me about hockey.” You frown, although you’d been all too caught up with just how cute those movies were. You still know very little about the sport, but you can still appreciate the charm of a young Joshua Jackson.

Luke smiles, lopsided and gentle, but you know by now that’s his version of cocky - the kind of smile that shows you that something you’ve said has scratched at his ego, and he’s banking it somewhere in the back of his head.

“I can teach you,” he says, his voice an octave lower as he leans in - and you know he isn’t doing it on purpose, but it makes the hairs on the back of your arms raise, how he almost purrs over to you. “Can give you a crash course if you want?”

“Now?”

“Nah,” he sips at his drink, “Another time. Need an excuse to text you remember?”

“You can text me whenever,” you tell him, chewing at the corner of your bottom lip as he smirks at you, “Just so you know.”

You don’t tell him that you’ve been waiting for him to do it, anyway.

That for those first few days after he finally left Michigan, every buzz of your phone had your heart rate doubling.

The first instant you had started to regret your decision, you had been hoping he would still try to change your mind.

You don’t tell him you started following a random team update account for news on how he was getting on with his injury, because he wasn’t letting you know, himself, or that you once spent an hour reporting people trolling him or talking smack in the comments just for something to do.

“What about FaceTime?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

To say you were planning on leaving as soon as you had arrived, you enjoyed yourself way more than you thought you would with Luke and his teammates - in fact, you’d probably go as far as to say it’s one of the best nights you’ve had since the summer.

Luke had introduced you to pretty much everybody, flitting around the room and making the rounds, and it had been nice to see how normal and nice everybody was - instantly making you felt like you belonged, to the point where you figured out that Luke had only said all that stuff about feeling like an outsider because he knew that was how you felt, knew it would tug at your heartstrings and make you stay.

You know from how close he is with the guys back in Michigan that Luke loves his teammates, but seeing it in action for the first time had been sweet. Seeing the other guys ruffling at his hair, play fighting, throwing their arms around him and indulging him in his corny jokes kind of made you feel less tense about the way you’re so instinctively affectionate with him.

Even after what had happened toward the end of summer, and swearing off any sort of romantic connection since, you still want to touch him, still want to be near him, and while you don’t think his teammates exactly have those same thoughts, it makes you feel a little more normal, how much they all love him. Makes you feel less like you should be wedging all this distance between the two of you - because if they all love him like this, then why can’t you?

You don’t even realise that Ellie and Jack have long snuck off until you get a text to say not to come back to the hotel, and that Jack’s bed is freshly clean for you to sleep in. The thought of it is gross, but you figure that two athletes will have a comfy couch, so you’re not all that bothered in the end.

Plus, it gives you more time with Luke - to have a proper conversation, to figure things out. So, when it’s time to leave, and he ushers you out of the bar with a hand on the small of your back, you let him cross the boundaries of being nothing, and lean into his touch until you’re out in the cold, wrapping your arms around yourself as he shrugs off his jacket.

“Put this on,” he demands, throwing it to you and watching as you catch it with a clumsy grip, “We’re walking.”

“Walking?” You ask, stumbling to catch up with him as he starts to make his way down the street, his long strides making it incredibly difficult, especially in the stupid costume heels you’re wearing. You ease into his jacket as you move, shaking your arms until your fingers just about peak out of the ends, and relishing the warmth that encapsulates your body.

“Yeah, it’s 10 minutes. I know that sounds like a lifetime in campus terms, but I’m assuming you still know how to walk.”

You scoff as you pretty much jog to keep up, taking rushed, small steps until you just about make it to his side. “I don’t have a car, remember, I walk everywhere. I just assumed we’d be getting an Uber or something."

“S’good for you,” he shrugs, “Clears the mind. And it’s only a few blocks back to the apartment. I can show you all the best breakfast spots for you and Ellie to visit before you leave tomorrow.”

“But it’s dark out.”

“What, you’re scared of the dark, now?” He looks down at you from the corner of his eye, his height advantage meaning you can so clearly see the amused way in which his mouth curves up on the side closest to you.

“I’m scared of being abducted in a back alley and brutally murdered so that my organs can be sold on the black market.”

“That happens more on the other side of the river,” he hooks a thumb in the general direction of what you assume is the Hudson, but it could be anywhere for all you know. This is your first time in New Jersey, and your brief expedition into Manhattan in the morning had done very little to clue you in on the lay of the land.

“Murder is an international issue, Luke, I don’t think they draw the line at what state they do it in, look it up.”

“You watch too much TV,” he chuckles, “Who’s gonna mess with you when I’m around? Look at me,” he gestures down to his ridiculous costume, “I’m the picture of intimidation. You don’t think I’d protect you from the black market organ thieves?”

“You’re dressed like an Italian plumber, you dork, and you’ve got arms like toothpicks, they’d probably kill you first just for fun.” You retort, grabbing at his arm to bring him back to your pace. You almost can’t believe that in the brief expanse of one evening, you could possibly have returned to this level of comfort, but you’re trying not to think too hard about it - especially with a mind partially loosened up by a couple of drinks. “Could you at least slow down? Your legs are like twice the length of mine.”

“Aw,” he pouts, “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Don’t joke, I’d pay good money for a piggy back right now.”

“Shame I’ve got such toothpick arms then, isn’t it?” he fakes an exaggerated smile, and you narrow your eyes until he drops it.

You huff as he carries on, thankful at the slightly slower pace he seems to have adopted, and the way his chin keeps jutting in your direction to check on how well you’re keeping up.

“What about a fireman’s carry?” You suggest, looking up at him with pleading eyes and pouted lips.

“The best you’ll get is me giving you my gloves to wear as socks and I’ll carry your shoes for you.”

“And if I step on glass, cut into a vein and bleed out?”

“I suppose then I’d carry you.”

This feels familiar.

Feels comfortable and right, and when you look back on those nights in September when you had seen him - at the football game, in the living room back at the sorority, and the party at the hockey house, this is what you’d felt like you had been missing.

It doesn’t have to be awkward, or charged, or tense between the two of you.

Maybe it can be like this again.

Like it was in the beginning, before everything got messed up.

“I meant to ask earlier,” he nudges at you with his elbow, “Ellie said you had an appointment over in Midtown,”

“You’re such a stalker,” you snort, shaking your head with a wry smile as you glance over at him, “Literally the snoopiest guy I’ve ever met.”

“Snoopiest?” He scoffs, “It’s called curiosity. I can’t wonder what my friend did with their day, now? I’m snoopy?”

“There’s a masters programme at NYU,” your eyes dart down to the floor as you start to tell him, figuring that you’ll feel less nervous if it just feels like you’re speaking in general, instead of confiding in him. There’s also a part of you spurred on by his immediate adoption of you being his friend - still reeling from the ease in which he had been introducing you as such to everyone all night. Opening up to him is just as easy, and now that you’re embracing the dynamic, it’s like the pieces that form all the resistance within you are shifting out of place, creating a bunch of cracks for him to seep straight into. “One of my sorority sisters has a cousin who’s in her final year, she set up a meeting so that I could talk about my application.”

“You’re applying to NYU?” He asks, quickening his step until he is a little ahead of you, turning on his feet until he’s walking backwards, giving you no chance of ignoring his presence anymore.

“I’m thinking about it,” you shrug, “It isn’t a done deal, so don’t tell anybody.”

“I can keep a secret,” he promises, and that same ache starts to form in your chest again, at just how well you know that to be true.

“Plus, it’s a long-shot, so even if I did apply, I probably wouldn’t get in, and I don’t want to get Ellie’s hopes up that I’ll be sticking around.”

You have a job lined up elsewhere already for when you graduate - an entry level role in a PR agency over in Chicago, close to home, close to your mom - but the more you’re considering it, the less sure you are. The job would be pretty much you getting taken advantage of for being a recent graduate, and furthering your education could help secure something bigger and better. But throwing away a sure thing seems stupid, and you don’t really want to do so if you don’t have something else secured.

“Getting into the NHL is a long shot, and you’ve just spent the night in a room full of people who made it happen,” Luke tells you, ducking his head a little lower until you look him in the eye, “Don’t underestimate yourself, you’re really smart, you’ll get in if you do end up applying.”

The way he says it is so sure - so different to anybody else, who you feel like is just saying it to make you feel better. Luke believes it, you can see it in the way he looks at you, confident and certain of your abilities more than you’ve ever been in yourself.

“I don’t think you can call you getting into the NHL a long shot, unfortunately,” you tell him, your lips twisting in the corner as you bite back a smile when he starts to frown.

“Not you too with the nepotism stuff,” he scoffs, only partially feigning offence.

You swat at his chest, “Hey, I’d never,” you gasp, “I meant ‘cause you’re so talented.”

“I bet you did,” he snorts, falling back into step beside you, a little closer this time, your elbows knocking as you continue to walk. “Haven’t even played yet this season, what would you know about my talent?”

You think it’s the way he’s leaning in a little that seems to hypnotise you, rendering you a speechless, practically-spluttering mess as you struggle to form words or a single, coherent thought. You wonder if this is how he felt, all those times when you turned on the charm and innuendo and purposely tried to push his buttons. Defenceless and weak.

“I’ll tell you what I do have a talent for,” he straightens up a little, increasing the space between you so that you feel like you can at least breathe again. “Important old man voice. If you ever need to put someone down as a phoney reference.”

“I’ll bare that in mind when the NYU admissions board loosens their policy on Kevin McAllister level schemes, thanks,” you chuckle, your smile lingering when he returns it, cheeks folding into a lopsided grin.

“Hey, give a guy some credit, there’s a little Ferris Bueller in there too.”

“Yeah, ‘cause schools love Ferris Bueller types.” You scoff, “You’re such an idiot.”

You glance over to see him pretty much beaming in response, and, if you were a betting person, you’d put all your money on knowing his exact train of thought.

You have a tell, after all, you remember, for when you’re enjoying yourself more than you think you should be.

Walking back to his apartment gives the two of you a little time to properly catch up - away from tense conversations and teary admissions - he tells you about his training, you tell him about school, and it feels like seconds pass before he’s ushering you into his building with that same guided hand on your lower back, the heat of his touch felt even through his jacket, and into the elevator.

You stand by his side as it slowly ascends, hands buried in the warmth of his jacket pockets and ever so often meeting his eye in the reflection of mirrored doors before you glance away with a flush to your cheeks.

Every time you look back, he’s smiling a little, soft and small, but sure of himself in a way that makes all those hardened parts of you melt a little inside.

There’s something different about him that you can’t quite put your finger on - something in the way he carries himself, around his teammates, around you, even just in general - like he stands taller, somehow. Like here in Jersey, he makes a point to hold himself up a little more, and it makes you cherish the version of him you had, those months ago - vulnerable and raw.

You hadn’t appreciated at the time, just how much of himself he gave to you - all the little quirks and insights you got to see - but you appreciate them, now.

“I had fun tonight,” you tell him, smiling instinctively when he meets your eye, “Thanks for not letting me leave.”

“Thanks for not leaving,” he chuckles, the doors opening in front of you and that hand going straight to your back again until he’s guiding you towards his apartment. “It’s been nice just talking to you again, I missed it.”

“Me too,” you admit, because there’s really no use in keeping it bottled up when he’s so freely opening himself up to you. He so easily tells you that he misses you, and wants to speak to you, and it enjoys your company, so you not doing the same only feels like you’re doing yourself a disservice - especially when admitting as much back to him earns you one of those cute, crooked smiles he’s so good at giving.

He holds open the door for you and you have to brush past him to go in, but your hesitance to touch has long dissipated throughout the night, so you don’t entirely mind when he follows you straight in, and you can feel the heat of his presence.

“Are you wanting to go straight to bed?” He asks, hand on your waist as he passes you and heads for the kitchen, flicking on the lights under the cabinets and getting two glasses down from one of the cupboards.

“I probably should,” you huff, despite wanting to stretch this out with Luke - your mind going back to I miss watching movies with you, and considering flopping down onto the couch and putting something on, for old time’s sake. “Is your couch comfy? I don’t really want to sleep in Jack’s bed.”

“You can sleep in mine,” he offers, before he even has a second to consider it.

“Oh, I don’t know-,”

“I’ll go in Jack’s, it’s fine,” he nods down the hall, gesturing you to follow as he carries two glasses of water, knocking the handle to the room on the left until the door opens and letting you go in first.

The sheets are the same as on his bed back at the lake house, and it’s the first thing that takes you aback, a familiar grey-blue comforter that you already feel the softness of from across the room, and a cream throw haphazardly thrown across the top.

You can tell the sheets aren’t entirely fresh - slightly crumpled, and not-very-neatly made, pillows askew - but if you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed, weirdly enough, you would probably prefer it that way.

“Sorry, I should have tidied up a little,” he chuckles nervously as he passes you to place a glass down on the nightstand.

“It’s fine,” you shrug, stepping forward just to fall down onto his bed - the mattress plush enough that you already feel yourself sinking into it, tension easing away from your muscles.

You’re kind of glad you kept an eye on him, watching his gaze shift to the way your dress now rides up on your thighs, and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows thickly before looking away.

“I’ll just get something to change into then I’ll get outta your hair,” he mumbles, trying to busy himself with something else as a distraction. Just before he can pass you to his closet, you reach out to grab at his wrist, and it’s almost like muscle memory is forcing you to do so - something within you not allowing him to get away.

He’s in front of you now, close enough that you kind of have to crane your neck the whole way to look up at him, and you watch as his eyes drag slowly from the point of contact to meet yours, every movement he makes unhurried and purposeful.

“I just wanted to say thank you again, for tonight,” you start, speaking without any real plan as to what you want to say, but wanting to keep him just a little longer, “For keeping me company, and letting me stay in here-,”

“It’s no big deal-,”

“And for not letting me push you away.”

It might be the first time you’ve ever owned up to it - being the master of your own downfall, or the downfall of your relationship with Luke, and anything you still could have been after the fact - and it isn’t easy, admitting that you’re the problem.

But you feel like you owe it to him, as a reward for all this resilience in the face of your constant rejection. He’s been nothing but patient, and you’ve been nothing but hard work, and you’re willing to admit, now, that you’re done with it.

He smiles, eyes knowing, the relieved, breathy sigh he gives dissolving all the guilt that’s building in the depths of your gut, and sinks down beside you on the bed, his thigh brushing yours as he settles in.

Hours ago, being this close would have terrified you. You’d have shut down, turned away, shuffled across the sheets until there was a healthy distance between the two of you, but you don’t move. You just turn, a little, to be able to meet his eye.

“Are you saying you’re done with that?” He asks, a little hesitant, assuming, probably, that you won’t be entirely open with him.

But you nod, chewing at the corner of your bottom lip as he presses his own together, eyes darting a little lower.

“So we’re friends?” He asks, his voice low, the depth of it causing a weird vibration to wrack down your body - a buzz that won’t go away, now that he’s this close, and he’s looking at you the way he is.

“If that’s what you still want to be.”

The thought of him changing his mind makes you a little dizzy, an ache growing in your chest again at the thought of being nothing - but you’d deserve it, you think, after all the times you turned him down.

It would hurt, but, as always, it would be your own doing.

“And we won’t ever be more?”

The pleading tone in which he asks makes the back of your throat go dry, and all you can do to respond, now, is shake your head. Slowly, and hesitantly, but it shakes all the same, tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you take in his resigned acceptance.

And then, something shifts.

A subtle shake of his head, as if he’s fighting an inner monologue, and then an assured switch in his demeanour - a tilt of his head as he surveys your reluctance, and the swipe of his tongue to wet his lips, like he’s preparing to fight back.

“If I kissed you right now,” he asks, voice still low, eyes lower, pinned to the curve of your lips as they part as if by instinct, “Would you tell me to stop?”

“Luke,” you warn, no more than a whisper as you watch his lips too, “We can’t.”

“That’s not what I asked,” his eyes trail slowly up until your gazes meet, and his head tilts again in question, blinking heavily before he asks, “Would you push me away?”

Your lips form around a response that you can’t even think to give back, opening around an answer you’re not ready to give at all, and all your body wants to do is deny. You fight the urge to shake your head, but you think that it’s a losing battle, especially considering how much your brain feels like it’s being rattled around anyway.

You don’t know what you do to make him move forward, but you figure by now you don’t actually have to do anything. He can probably read your mind at this point, spurred on no doubt by the way your eyelids flutter closed when he’s close enough, and the tip of his nose presses to yours, slow, heavy breaths falling into the decreasing space between the two of you.

You should stop him. You know that.

It isn’t good for either of you, letting this carry on, leaving the edges of your relationship so frayed that even the smallest tug could pull the whole thing apart, thread by thread.

You should tell him to stop, should push him away, should hold a lighter to the loose ends and singe them together to prevent further damage. You’ve only just settled on friends, and now you’re not sure, again.

But the second he gets this close, you’re not in charge, anymore.

It’s like some force of nature takes over, brings the two of you together like tectonic plates meeting, and causing unfathomable destruction to both of your hearts in the aftermath.

His kiss is so instantly tender that it hurts already, tears prickling at the seams of your scrunched-closed eyes, and all you can do is push through the pain. You kiss him back, lips closing around his again and again as your faces smush together, and you start to feel the passion consume him - something takes over almost like an urgency, where you’re clawing at his the front of his costume and he’s clutching at your waist, doing anything physically possible to close whatever gap still sits between you.

The pressure of his lips is almost bruising, now, but you like it that way - soft exhales puffing out from his nose so that he doesn’t have to part to catch his breath, fingers pressing so hard into your flesh that you hope they leave a mark.

He tastes just how you remember, and it takes you back all those months to summer - to stolen kisses over centre consoles and making out in his bed when everyone else was out. There’s a part of you that feels giddy with it, just like you had then, partaking in something so precious that was just for the two of you, and it starts to distract you from what this actually is.

A mistake.

You pull away instead of pushing, bringing your chin back until your lips part with much effort, a hmmph and a furrow of your brow, and you can’t bring yourself to open your scrunched eyes, not yet, but you know when he’s going to chase.

“Luke,” you whisper in warning before your eyes flutter open and you peer up at him through your lashes. He looks so soft, you think, despite all the ways he tries not to. Despite the sharp line of his jaw, and the hardened look in his eyes. You feel your walls crumbling at just the sight of him - defenceless to his charms, once again, because how much could Luke possibly hurt you? “Friends don’t do that.”

“Maybe our friendship starts tomorrow,” he hums back, “Maybe we get this out of our systems one more time.”

And it’s sitting on the precipice of that feeling you’ve been chasing since July that has you considering it - ever so close to finally getting closure on whatever the two of you were, or could have been.

Getting it out of your system sounds healthy. Sounds like a clean slate, a fresh start, and you have no doubt that if you’re going to be friends with Luke Hughes, that it’s exactly what you need in order to do so.

Because, if you’re honest, it’s that exact thing that’s been holding you back this entire time - closure. With such an abrupt end to what the two of you had, how could you ever possibly close that chapter mid-sentence? How could you ever move on?

“One more time,” you try to sound stern, try to convince yourself of your own words, “Then we have to let this go.”

“You got it.”

“No more Luke, I mean it.” You have to push down this feeling of impending doom, or you’ll never get anywhere, but you need to warn him one last time, just to be safe. “Strictly friends after tonight.”

“I already agreed, can you please just let me kiss you again?”

“Okay, fine, just,” you huff, hands splayed across his broad chest and pushing until your bodies part, his butt shuffling back on the bed. “Take the costume off, first, I’m not feeding into whatever dorky cosplay fetish you probably have.”

You’re only part joking, but it’s the only way you know how to relieve the tension a little, and your nerves start to dissipate at his reaction.

He chuckles, with the kind of cocky smile that makes your heart jump, reaching behind himself to unzip the back of his costume with an affectionate shake of his head. He stands, then, to shuck it off, the whole thing dropping off of him until he kicks it across the floor, towards his laundry hamper, then stands in just his briefs, which are slung low on his waist. “You can keep yours on, I don’t mind,” he tells you when you’re distracted by the taut, defined lines on his stomach, eyes trailing slowly up to meet his, gleaming back at you.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you,” you scoff, watching as he draws closer, shuffling back a little on the bed to accommodate him, “You absolute freak.”

“You can’t sit there and pretend you don’t want me to call you princess again.” He smirks, bending down until his hands are on either side of your hips, and you’re leaning back with your fingers pressed into his sheets and your head craned back to meet his eye, “Saw you getting all flustered about it, earlier.”

“Shut up,” you huff, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down into you - the two of you colliding in a clumsy, messy kiss. His body crawls over yours, encapsulating you entirely in an intoxicating warmth, and you find yourself melting into his every touch - large hands running down your sides, settling on your waist, and the other easing its way under the skirt of your costume.

You put both hands to use too, one remaining behind his neck, scratching into the grown out curls that sit there and tugging when he starts to tickle up your thigh, the other on the warm skin of his chest - the rampant thud of his heart beating against your palm.

One more time, just to get him out of your system.

And then you can be friends.

What could possibly go wrong?

another a/n: I'll try to finish the next part asap!! thank you for reading, I know this was long lmao!! would love to hear your thoughts!!!!

> PART TWO <

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #*writing #GUYS GUYS GUYS I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS I GENUINELY HAVE SO MUCH FUN WITH THESE TWO #AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN AFTER LET IT HAPPEN #SO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON IT!!!! I FEEL LIKE WE ALL BUILT SOMETHING MAGIC TOGETHER

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sacrificiallane · 17 days ago

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LUKE CASTELLAN ( pretty baby )

request ! ❛ Luke with a bimbo gf </3 She loves sitting in his lap , and he always babies her I NEED (pls) ❜

warning ! bimbo!reader x actually sweet!Luke for once. Luke babies reader. reader is mentioned to be female. fluff. mention of food / eating. i tried. blurb-ish. not proofread.

"Open." Your lips automatically open at his words , immediately tasting the sweet juice of a strawberry Luke attentively placed on your tongue for you to eat. When you close your lips again , he coos , "There you go , baby."

"Thank you , Luke."

You‘re always so sweetly polite to him when he feeds you ! Patiently seated on your throne — being Luke's very inviting, very warm lap — you feel like the richest girl , being greatly taken care of by your boyfriend. As a son of Hermes , the boy is naturally nurturing ( he often helped or encouraged new or younger campers , but that also more than not includes his sweet and sometimes ditzy girlfriend ).

Luke doesn’t really mind when you would keep his lap warm , if anything , he thought of it as awfully endearing. How you would gravitate towards it like it was your own privately reserved seat. Which , honestly , it was !

A grin falls over his lips at your sweet little thanks , gently wiping the excess of the strawberry from the corner of your lips. He then slowly brings his thumb up to his own mouth, tasting the mix that was your now smudged lip gloss and the fruit. He hums, "Cherry?"

And oh , the action of him tasting you on his finger has your heart thumping in an erratic rhythm. Luke was so easily attractive in what he did , it was really just unfair !

Your boyfriend watches in amusement when a smile falls over your lips. You nod at his guess. It is his favorite flavor , and therefore also the one that always gets you the most kisses from him ! Obviously , you must have quickly applied it before leaving , hoping for his mouth on yours.

And maybe more ...

And just like you hoped , he firmly ( but gentle ) grabbed your face with one hand , practically squishing your cheeks together until your lips were puckered. With them plump and pouty , he could easily press his mouth against your own. Savoring your sweet taste right from the source.

Luke always kisses like he is trying to steal away your breath. Like some simple kissing just isn‘t enough for him anymore. He needs to breathe you , taste you. And he would deepen it so naturally that all your thoughts would just melt away , and then all you want is him , him , him.

When he moves his head away , you whine.

"We're not here to make out , baby." "Why not?"

Luke chuckles at your upset tone , and gently pats your cheek in a form of affection ( and maybe to soothe you ). "We’re at the lake , sunshine , remember?" Lake as in … others would see you … and that was gross. For them.

Then , when you huff at his answer — which you felt was dumb , and unsatisfying — your boyfriend leans a little closer again. A frown on his face when he notices the slightest hint of a sunburn on your skin. It was flush , and warm to the touch.

"Did you put on sunscreen , huh?" His words carries a hint of soft scolding , because , of course you didn’t ! Too up in your head to think about it yourself. And he honestly forgot to tell you too. Your pretty and empty head had been much too excited about going to the lake with him. Too eager to get to show him your flimsy little bikini ...

Which , don‘t get him wrong , he is more than grateful to be in the presence of what you shamelessly said to be a bikini. But the care for your health — yeah , even something as simple as just your skin ! — greatly outweighs the joy of what you‘re wearing for him.

He sighs a bit disappointed when his fingers graze your nose , the bridge of it already clearly burned.

And your little piece of fabric did honestly nothing to shield the rest of your body from the relentless sun glaring down on you , too. Great.

"S‘ not that bad," you shrug , and Luke rolls his eyes in return. Because of course you would think that it‘s not that bad.

"You take hours getting ready , baby," he immediately grabs the small expensive bottle of La Roche 50 SPF from your bag — which he thankfully remembered to pack ! Why you need such an expensive sunscreen , he doesn't really know , but you claim it doesn't disgustingly stick to your skin for hours . . . so , anything to make you feel comfortable , i guess.

"Hours , Baby. But then you forget the most important step."

And he is so gentle when he spreads the cream over your nose , your cheeks , and collarbone. The citrusy smell immediately reminding you of summer , the beach , and rolling in the sand with Luke. You hum , happily letting his hands run all over your body.

He is right . . . you sometimes do take hours getting ready.

Night routine , morning routine , middle of the day routine . . . , Luke could name them all. He even knows what products you use for each. Because he loves you , and he cares , and you literally yap about it at least once a week , conspiring which of your mountains on products made your skin flare up.

He tells you that you don't need all of that , of course. But it's also endearing how you would preen , literally presenting yourself to him , freshly washed after an everything shower . . . because you think it makes you more desirable , when , honestly , Luke would bend you over no matter the shower . . .

But your boyfriend appreciates the effort and the thought that goes into it , nonetheless !

When he's sure you're properly protected from the sun , he kisses your neck. "You fine staying here?" "The lake?"

Luke chuckles , his arms becoming the slightest bit tighter around you. "My lap , pretty girl." When you start frowning , he kisses your neck again , nuzzling the back of it.

"Where else would i go?"

Yeah , you‘re right. Where else would you go ?

#Luke Castellan x reader #Luke Castellan x bimbo!reader #Luke Castellan x you #Luke Castellan x reader fluff #Luke Castellan fluff #Luke Castellan x you fluff #Luke Castellan blurb #Luke Castellan x bimbo!reader fluff #Luke Castellan #˙ ✩ lanes writing ⋆｡˚꩜

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harmomay · 27 days ago

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LADS MEN with an autistic s/o!!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

xavier, zayne, rafayel & sylus

Suprisingly knows a lot about it! Goes as far as to be aware of the whole ‘masking’ process.

Generally speaking, he’s a free weighted blanket. Will go out of his way to make sure he’s wearing clothing without that texture when cuddling.

His whole home is pretty much an autism safe space already. No overhead lighting. Everywhere is soft and quiet.

Not being the most expressive man out there, he definitely empathises and understands if you do the same thing. Especially if going nonverbal/are overwhelmed. Will print out a bunch of those communication cards, might even use some of them himself.

Sometimes is taken aback by sudden moments of hyperfocus, silently observing with interest as your attention span for this one thing is seemingly unbreakable.

Personally prefers the straight-to-the-point conversations.

If you get tired a lot, especially from socialisation, he will definitely encourage nap times after work.

Immediately asks what he can do to support you. As a doctor, he’s very much used to the medical approach and may be more focused on how it negatively impairs your life. Though, he’s quick to change his perspective.

The more he does independent research as well as the input from you, the more he resonates with a lot of the traits. Personally, I see a lot of autistic traits such as social awkwardness, hyperfixations etc. (though important to acknowledge there are social factors as to why he’s so ‘cold’) in him and let’s be real- he’s probably at one point been told by someone he’s autistic. Hadn’t really looked into it until you came along.

Personally I think that Zayne is such a good doctor in the story is because he empathises with his patients on a much deeper level, but isn’t really good at expressing it externally (hence the ‘coldness’)- something which i’ve found through experience seems to correlate with a lot of autistic peoples’ experiences

He probably knows a few good pediatricians, occupational therapists and asks for recommendations regarding accommodations for you. Your experiences also encourage him to bring more awareness to sensory-friendly spaces within the hospital for patients.

Will get butterflies in his stomach listening to you infodump about your latest fixation, noting the way your eyes have that light in them and you speak with such passion about it.

“Hey, I’M the one who’s artistic!”

Completely misinterprets it at first, but immediately realises his mistake once you repeated yourself. Being in the art space, he’s come across a few artists who had communicated about their experience within their work. Even with his limited knowledge, he’s eager to find out more. Maybe even be an inspiration for another piece. Referring to overstimulation as a tsunami makes him understand it better. Talk to him about autism in fishy terms please.

If there’s a certain texture you like, he’d incorporate it into his pieces upon the pretense of ‘being innovative’ within his art.

Prepares an allocated room for your sensory accommodations. If you need white noise, the beach waves are just an added bonus.

If you tend to speak in a blunt/matter-of-fact manner, he finds it very endearing and easier to tease you. Though, it can take him off guard sometimes depending on what you say.

Unconsciously picks up some of your stims. If you flap your hands around as a stim, he WILL call you a fish. Might also ask if you’re doing a mating ritual. Though, only if he’s sure that you’re in a mood for his comments.

Changes some of the ways he communicates to you so it’s more straight-forward/doesn’t rely on social cues.

You had best believe that this man would immediately provide a room in his base specifically catered toward your sensory needs. Essentially, it’s a personalised panic room. Here are the requirements he gave Luke and Kieran to organise:

A/C and Heating are completely adjustable

Dim/Gentle lighting

Couches, Beds, Beanbags

Weighted Blankets, Plushies

Soundproof Panelling

Shelves to store items regarding special interests

ALWAYS HAVE ADDITIONAL SET OF HEADPHONES!

Drawers for fidgets.

The twins, although their lore is quite limited, feel to me like they have ADHD. Otherwise, Sylus has a little bit of knowledge regarding some traits as they often overlap. Nonetheless, he will happily listen and have Mephisto take notes.

Finds the different thinking process a very valuable tool in his field of work. Sometimes you’d pick up on some random detail that not even Mephisto could recognise and he’d just smile to himself.

He empathises a lot with being the target of social outcasting, and if it does occur to you his heart will practically shatter. Resonates with you on a deeper level.

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wondrluv · 9 months ago

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୨୧ tired ; lh43

➪ summary: luke is all but tired when him and jack arrive home from a game, but luckily for him, y/n's there to help

➪ warnings: the one rags v. devils game where everyone decided to fight, tired luke. broken plate, luke thinking reader and jack is mad at him, hate comments, jack thinking he's a shitty big brother

➪ word count: 1.8k

➪ emma's notes: literally crying because i decided to edit this, negative feelings, and chicken noodle soup all in a row. i chose violence, be glad i'm not uploading them three days in a row. this was rough. but no i actually like how this fic turned out so yeah

She had let herself into their apartment halfway through the second period. She had been watching from her dorm and when the first fight broke out, two seconds into the game, she knew the team was in for a wild night. As the game went on and they showed the bench and the players, she knew both her boyfriend and his brother were tired.

That’s when she made the executive decision to “break in” to their apartment and make them dinner. She was grateful that their fridge was fully stocked and she didn’t have to run back out to the grocery store. She got to work quickly, making something easy but also filling for both of them. While spaghetti and meatballs weren’t any of their favorite meals, not that she was hungry anyway, she knew they would appreciate the effort nonetheless.

When the game was over she sighed at the final score, after what they had been through tonight, they deserved the win. Worried about Luke and being one of only four defensemen on the ice, she looked to see how much time he was actually on the ice and was appalled when it read 32:49. She knew he had been tired these past few weeks, this team felt like it was on a never-ending cycle of bad luck.

She was setting the plates down moments before they walked in the door, but when she was in the bathroom, that’s when she heard them. She heard the clatter of keys and shoes and walked out immediately. Luke was attempting to stand upright, slightly leaning on his older brother. Jack looked equally tired, attempting to support both him and Luke.

She frowned as she made her way over to them, lightly grabbing onto Luke to lessen the weight on Jack’s body. He sighed in relief as he kicked his shoes off and made his way to sit down on the couch. Y/n stayed with Luke in the kitchen, walking him over to one of the chairs. With one hand she reached for his head and took the beanie he had been wearing off, using her other one to run her fingers through his damp curls.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, both of you,” Jack whined from the couch while Luke just buried his head into her shoulder.

She felt like she could cry from the exhaustion they were displaying. She knew how they got, both of them. She had been dating Luke since their freshman year of high school. She knew the ins and outs of all three Hughes brothers if she was honest, never finding it weird or alarming. His family loved her, that she knew, but when Jack came home drunk one night and threw up on her shoes, she accepted her role in the family.

“Jack you first, come on.”

She continued running a hand through her boyfriend’s curls as she gazed at the older boy on the couch. He finally sat up, giving her an annoyed look, but she only rolled her eyes and pointed to the bathroom. She could keep Luke occupied for another 20 minutes, “Hi baby.”

Luke’s eyes were closed as his head laid on her shoulder, he mumbled something incoherently and he just sighed. She untangled her fingers from his hair and started to pull off his jacket, he whined at the loss of contact but allowed her to continue her actions. She took his jacket to his room and hung it up before walking back into the kitchen and checking on the pasta.

Luke, despite being tired and his body being worn, he got up and made his way over to her in order to wrap his arms around her waist and dig his head into the crook of her neck, inhaling her fading scent. She smiled slightly, removing her one hand from the side of the pan to place on top of Luke’s, continuing to stir with the other.

It was silent up until Jack came back, who plopped onto the chair his brother had previously sat in. She looked over at him and smiled, “Do you guys want to eat in the kitchen or in the living room? We could put a movie on?”

The two nodded and made their way over to the living room as she finished plating the food and bringing it over to them, placing the plates into their laps. They each let out simultaneous soft thank yous before eating. They chose a random movie and watched it as y/n cleaned the kitchen and finished doing some laundry that had been pushed to the side.

She felt bad for both of them, both for different reasons but some the same. Mostly because of how the team was performing this year, the way that they couldn’t keep everyone off injured reserve. Yet, for Luke, it felt different. She felt more or less worried about him than bad for him. He had expectations to live up to, people to live up to, and she knew his mind all too well. She knew what he was thinking, that he wasn’t good enough.

And it wasn’t just him that thought that. They both knew about the tweets that were in response to people's comments under articles, the articles themselves about how Luke wasn’t as good as his brothers, wasn’t as good as he should be, wasn’t as good as people made him out to be. It was what Luke thought about the most.

There was clanging from the living room and then a crash. She immediately made her way out of the bedroom and looked in between Jack, who was still on the couch, the shattered plate on the floor, and Luke, who was standing in the hallway. His face looked conflicted but it morphed into one of fear and sadness.

“Hey, hey, what happened?”

“I-” Luke couldn’t bring himself to talk, both terrified and still exhausted from the game.

On the other hand, y/n’s face was calm and Jack’s face was sad with a hint of anger in his eyes. Anger towards John and Kevin for leaving the team with four defensemen, anger towards Travis for making Luke play that long, anger towards himself for not checking in on his brother enough, and anger towards the Rangers.

“Luke, it’s okay. No one’s mad at you for dropping the plate.” Jack’s voice was soft as he stood up, slightly wobbling from his lack of balance.

The younger boy only shook his head, reaching a hand out to lean against the wall. Y/n moved forward and wrapped her arms around Luke who then slowly sank to the ground. Her left hand was placed against his head, keeping it against her chest as her right arm wrapped around him. Luke started crying, soft sobs escaping his mouth.

She looked at Jack who took the hint to walk back into his bedroom. As soon as he left, Luke voiced his thoughts, “I’m tired. I’m so tired, y/n.”

The way his voice broke almost made her choke on a sob. She bit her lip to keep her tears at bay, refusing to let Luke know how she was feeling right now. She tangled her fingers in his hair, Luke allowing the movement to calm him down a little. His harsh sobs turned into soft sniffles in a matter of minutes. She was the only one who could soothe him like this besides his mom.

Lifting his head, he dug it back into the crook of her neck. She kissed his head and continued to run her fingers through his curls like she had done earlier, using her other hand to rub circles on his back. Ten minutes had passed and she looked over at the shattered glass a few feet away from her. Her legs had started to cramp from being in the position for so long and the added weight of Luke on them made it a little worse.

“How about you go take a shower while I clean the plate, okay?”

He pulled away from her and nodded his head slightly. She aided him in standing up and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to shower. Once the door closed, she made quick work of cleaning up the mess. After she was done, she went over and knocked on Jack’s bedroom door, “Hey.”

Jack snapped his head up in surprise, “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Jack, I’ve known you for 7 years. What’s wrong?” She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands underneath her.

“I feel bad. I mean I was so excited for Luke to come to play with me but for some reason, I feel guilty. I don’t know. It just feels like I should do more for him. I didn’t want to bring up the comments, I see them too, you know.”

Her heart warmed at the words, at Jack being so worried about his little brother. She smiled a little before looking at him, “He loves you, Jack. More than you know. I cannot tell you the number of times he calls me and is like ‘Jack this’ and ‘Jack that’. You and Quinn are his idols, it’s hard to not notice that. He is so appreciative of you. And he knows there is nothing you can do about the comments that people make, it’s not your fault.”

Jack teared up a little but smiled at her, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now come on, give me a hug.”

Jack leaned over from his spot on the bed and hugged her, “Can I say I love you or is that too weird?”

“Considering, I am betting on you becoming my sister-in-law, it’s not weird. I love you too, y/n/n.”

She heard a door close from down the hall and she pulled away and waved goodbye to Jack, making her way to her boyfriend’s room. When she walked in, Luke was lying on his bed, cuddling a pillow on his phone. She smiled at him and walked over to sit down, “Hi baby.”

He looked up at her and for the first time that night, he smiled. He reached out for her and she made herself comfortable on the bed, Luke wrapping his arms around her. In that moment, Luke was so grateful for her and all that she had done for him not only tonight but in the past seven years. She had been there for him through everything and that meant the absolute world to him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Luke. And I am so so so so proud of you for tonight.”

His smile was small but genuine, “Now go to bed.”

She kissed his forehead and the two wasted no time in falling asleep.

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asdfghjklartblog · 3 months ago

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Confessions of a Rotten Girl

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3

TW: Neglect and slight gore

So I finished this A LOT faster than I anticipated. But I was kinda obsessed with writing more so I just kept writing. Anyways have fun! Happy reading! It’s around 6.2k words so sit back and relax! Also Luke is probably ooc but like, I will definitely try to do better about that in the future.

Living here is… Rough to say the least. Not long after being introduced and dumped onto Bruce’s lap, you were put into a preschool. So not only were you in an unfamiliar home, but you were also going through new experiences, while trying to accept that your Daddy was gone.

On top of that you and Dick don’t really get along, and you’re not sure if the two of you ever will. If the two of you aren’t fighting you two are outright avoiding each other. But you were able to piece together enough information to find out why he was so angry all the time! He also lost his parents. So, you tried to bond with him over that. However this was a terrible idea, but you were also 5, and you just wanted to bond with the stupid boy. It isn’t much of a surprise that the two of you ended up on the floor pulling at each other’s hair and hitting anywhere the two of you could reach. The two of you were just duking it out for less than a minute before Alfred catches you two and scolds you with all his might. After that the two of you avoided each other like the plague, only interacting with each other when necessary, like during galas.

Bruce wasn’t much better, he was cold to you. He never talked to you and would only interact with you during social events like galas. It hurts to see that your father didn’t want anything to do with you but it would be fine. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

What hurt the most however was seeing the two of them happy. You had heard from Alfred that initially Bruce and Dick didn’t have a good relationship either and kept getting on each other’s nerves. Bruce’s seriousness and Dick’s sassiness didn’t really go together. At least not at first, but you guess that eventually Dick grew on him, and now you see Dick smiling and talking about all the things he accomplished and the latest drama at school, while Bruce listened fondly. You sigh wishing you also had someone that cared about you just as much as Bruce cares about Dick. You wish you could bring back the person that did do that.

At least in preschool you had someone that cared about you, his name was Eric and he had fluffy brown hair and green eyes with freckles dusting his skin. He was your best friend, he invited you to sleep overs, showed you his collection of dinosaurs, shared the treats that his mom packed. You two were partners in crime. So it was heart breaking when he just stopped talking to you when you guys went into first grade. But you made more friends, at least you think they’re friends? They’re kinda mean, but they spend time with you and laugh with you when you make mistakes. But they never invite you to their birthday parties and always say such mean things.

You mention this to Luke one day when he comes to visit and he is immediately pissed. He then looks at you and says. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, next time they’re making you feel bad? Bite them, lick their hand, say something hurtful, whatever. What’s important is that you gotta fight back y/n. Only pussies take it lying down.”

You look up at him and ask. “What’s ‘pussies’?”

He cringes when he realises his mistake. “Don’t worry about it y/n. Just do what I say.”

You did as he said. The next time one of your friends was being mean, you yelled at them. “Only pussies take it lying down!”

Which made some of the older kids at the playground gasp as the girl that was being mean to you yells. “What does that even mean?!” And although neither of you knew what it means, you both new is was some kind of insult.

She then pounces on you like a cat, trying to scratch and hit you. The two of you tussle in the playground, and the teachers that were lazily talking were now rushing toward you and the girl. It takes about 5 adults to try and pry the two of you apart, and in the crossfire the teachers were also scratched and bitten.

It’s not a surprise that Bruce and the girl’s parents are called right after. You and Bruce sit next to each other as the two of you wait outside the office. After minutes of just silence he sighs and looks at you, disappointed. “Why did you do this, and who said violence was the right answer?”

You look at him, annoyed and confused as to why you’re the one in trouble. “Well, she was the one who jumped onto me like some evil cat.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at you and says. “It doesn’t matter who did it. You can’t just fight someone like that, you have to talk through-”

You look at him as if he’s insane and reply. “She came after ME! What was I supposed to do? I could’ve been a lot more hurt like that! I had to fight back!”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before saying. “Yeah? Was it also ‘fighting back’ when you tried to push her down the stairs?”

You gasp at what Bruce is implying and replies. “She is such a liar! I did not push her that was her own fat feet’s fault! She started it!”

Bruce stands up suddenly and rubs his temples before saying. “Y/n. You will apologise to her and you will mean it. Do you understand me?”

You try to argue saying that it really wasn’t- okay some of it was your fault but not all of it! “But I’m not lying she really did-“

Bruce then crosses his arms and stares you down before saying. “I said, do you understand me y/n.”

You then look down to your feet and nod, tears welling up in your eyes. When the girl’s parents come out with a disgruntled look on their faces. They try to scold you for being so rough with their ‘precious’ Amelie who had a smug look on her face. However you’re not really listening as your mind drifts off, imagining how you could tear her apart. Bruce then makes a coughing noise as a reminder to pay attention and nudges you forward. You sigh and look at Amelie who still has that smug smile on her face before Bruce says to you. “Go on. Apologise.”

You look at her straight in the eye before saying. “I’m sorry… That you’re so DUMB! You should go-“

Bruce clasps a hand over your mouth and smiles at the parents as he says. “She’s usually not like this.” He then whispers Into your ear. “If you don’t apologise, you WILL be grounded with no screen time.”

You send a glare his way before looking back to the girl. However as you look her you’re your face turns into one of shock as the girl, which you now know as Amelie, which is a STUPID name by the way. She isn’t even French, she’s just regularly stuck up. Anyways she starts crying crocodile tears as she says. “Why are you so mean? I just wanted to get to know you… I’m sorry.”

You don’t care at this point. Not about the situation, you still care about that. But you don’t care what Bruce will think or would do. No matter what, this girl is going down. You bite Bruce’s hand hard and he hisses in pain while he recoils. You then charge at Amelie and punch her in the face, her parents and Bruce look on in complete shock. She falls on her butt, and she looks at you surprised that you had the nerve to actually do that. Her nose then starts to bleed as real tears start to spill from her eyes.

Needless to say, both Bruce and Alfred were incredibly pissed. But you were proud of yourself, and that’s all that mattered. Well, it also helped that Luke was also very proud of you, in fact, he was so proud that he took you out for a day at the arcade! Under the false pretence that he would take you to the library to study. Bruce and Alfred had absolutely no idea. You had so much fun that day, you played all kinds of games with him and then he took you to Batburger!

He then took you back home but you wanted to spend more time with him, so you begged him to tuck you in and read you a bed time story. He then looks at you confused and asks. “Does Bruce or Alfred not tuck you in?” When you reply with a confused little no, he looks at you with both frustration and sadness. He then picks you up and says with a small smile. “I’ll read you anything and everything you want, I’ll stay with you until your asleep. I’ll make you that hot chocolate that my mom makes o-or some hot milk. Whatever you want.” You break into a wide smile and hug him back tightly as you start to talk about whatever comes to mind. But you notice that there’s a glint of sadness that he’s trying to hide as he does everything he promised he would do. You don’t understand why, but you can tell by the way he tucks you in and reads you stories that he cares for you. And that makes you a little less scared.

After that day, no one in school messed with you. Which you were happy about but… You were still alone. You were still lonely. Your dad probably thinks you’re annoying. Just like Dick. You really wonder what’s going on in their heads, Dick acts like he’s like the nicest person in the whole world. So chipper and everything, it’s super annoying. It’s even more annoying that whenever you try to talk to him, even if you’re just trying to ask him to get you the ice cream in the freezer cause you can’t reach, he acts like you’re asking him to turn back time and watch his parents die. Bruce you just don’t understand, he’s rude and gruff with you. But sometimes you catch him staring. You’re not sure why but every time you do, you see both annoyance and some kind of deeper emotion that you aren’t sure about.

You sigh as you lie down on your bed snuggling into the fluffy duvet and nuzzle the pillow. Earlier you had a fight with Alfred about your grades, they were getting worse. You’re not sure why but you feel tired almost all the time and you can’t bring yourself to care about anything, even if it’s something you like. It’s been really stressful and you don’t know what to do. Alfred’s always busy so he can’t help you, Luke is also pretty busy but he does his best to make time for you but he’s also got his own life, and you don’t wanna take him away from that. And no one would tutor you because rumours spread that you were some vile little beast. Probably because of Amelie and her parents.

You tear up and hold Ollie close to your chest. You whisper to it. “You won’t leave me right? You won’t ignore or hate me right?” It says nothing. Most likely because it is a plushie. You raise its wing and pat your head with it. Pretending that you’re still with Daddy, that it was one of those weekend nights, and you were watching a movie together. He would be petting your head as you laid your head on his lap. You’d do anything to have that again.

That night you have a dream. A strange one. Unlike any dream you’ve had before. You wake up on a beach, with the moon, full and high above the sea. Everything felt so real, the cool waters the wet sand sticking to your feet. You turn to look behind you to see a cave carved into the cliffside. You watch as a giant owl emerge, then it starts charging at you. You hurriedly try to wade through the water but it feels… wrong. Before you could figure out why you’re being pulled to the depths of the ocean as you try to scream and shake off the thing that’s dragging you down.

You wake up in the middle of the night panicked and heaving, you run to your private bathroom and collapse by the edge of the tub. Coughing up water, tears spring from your eyes, as you almost cough up a pint or more of water. When you finish you cling to the side of the tub sobbing as you do so. To make things worse, you see that you’re bleeding, you pull down your shirt to see three dots in the form of a small triangle in the middle of your chest. The circles are perfect and it looks like you were stabbed with something as thick as a pencil. Honestly, you’re so tired and sleepy that you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

You go downstairs as you note the time, 3 AM. You go to the kitchen and you are faced with Batman making something on the stove and Robin bouncing on his heels. You stand there, silently for at least a minute before you just go back to bed. Your original plan of going to the kitchen to sneaking some milk and cookies for you, abandoned just like that. You’re obviously seeing things and it would be better to just go to sleep. So without changing your bloody shirt or getting any comfort whatsoever you lie there until daylight comes.

That day you were exhausted, you were practically falling asleep in class and the wounds on your chest kept bleeding for some reason so you haphazardly taped paper towels to your chest. You didn’t know who to talk to, whether it was okay to talk to someone. So when you finally got home from school, you asked Alfred if you could call Luke. But he said that he didn’t know Luke’s phone number but he did have Lucius’s and that he’d ask. “Who the hell is Lucius.” You ask, confused as to why he’s bringing in a whole new person you don’t know into the fringe. He chuckles as he says. “Lucius is Luke’s Father. You met him the first day you came here.”

You think for a moment before you start to remember him. “Oh, the nice black man?”

Alfred nods and then goes to the home phone in the living room and calls Lucius. He then passes you the phone and goes back to work. You panic, the last time you handled a phone call was when your father died. When Lucius picks up you yelp and before he can say anything you hang up. You then stay there panicked waiting for something to happen. You yelp again when it rings. Your hands shake and you start to get sweaty, you take deep breaths and do your best to calm yourself down before picking up the phone again. Before you can speak you hear Luke saying. “Hello, my father can’t come to the phone right now, he’s currently in a meeting. If you’d like you could call again later or I could tell him to call you ba-“

You interrupt and nervously say. “Hi Luke. Um. Can I-“

He interrupts you too in his excitement and says. “Oh, hey y/n! How’s my favourite Wayne doing? You alright? I just came back from university, it’s a lot of work but it’s fun, I guess. Uh, I can swing by and pick you up? We could go get some Batburger or something? Or you can come to my place and I can show you some more boxing-“

You start to tear up, you can feel how much he cares about you which makes you tear up a bit. You sniffle and he immediately quiets, you hear some rustling on the other end before he asks. “Hey, you okay? I’m sorry, I got too excited. Do you want me to come over?”

You nod as you whisper out a watery. “Yes please. C-Could you also bring me a (favourite hot drink) and a warm cookie from that café you took me to?”

You hear Luke pause before he chuckles and says. “You mean the Sleepy Time café? Sure kid. I’ll be over in 30. See you soon.”

After that the two of you hang up. You eagerly wait for him in the foyer, like a puppy waiting for its owner. You were a bit nervous, he’s been away at college for a while and you were worried he wouldn’t like you anymore because he made new and better friends. But Luke would never do that. You desperately hope he wouldn’t. When there’s finally a knock at the door, you rush to open it. When you do, you see that Luke has a large bag with the Batburger logo and a small bag with the Sleepy Time café logo and a big smile on his face. “Thought you might need an extra pick me up! Come on, lets go to the other side of the manor so Alfred can’t find us.”

You laugh and help him with the bag with the café stuff in it. You two go to the other side of the manor that’s less lived in. You guys find a living room like area with a big flatscreen TV like the one in the actually living room, although it is a bit smaller. He pulls out some DVDs from the inside of his jacket and puts the into the DVD player. While the movie plays you two eat and talk, until you finally bring up your dream. He looks at you horrified and asks. “What the fuck? That sounds horrifying.”

Which makes you feel both comforted and also scared because what do you mean, is this not normal? He pauses the movie and then says. “So let me get this straight, you woke up, started throwing up sea water and found three stab wounds-“

You then try to say. “But I don’t know if they are-“

He interrupts you saying. “I’m not done. I- Do you know how insane that is?”

You shrink back into yourself when he says that and get teary eyed. He realises what he said and how it probably sounded to you. “I’m sorry y/n I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that this is crazy and I can’t believe that you didn’t tell anybody. You should’ve said something to me sooner! Not waited a whole day.”

You nod and then say lowly. “I didn’t know who to tell.”

He looks at you sadly and and sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He then moves his hand to comb through his dreads. He then gently asks you. “Could you pull down your shirt for me y/n? So I can see?”

You nod hesitantly and take a deep breath before you do as he asks. You pull it down and take off the makeshift bandage that was almost soaked in red. But it’s gone, already scarred over despite it having been bleeding not too long ago. Panic rushes into your veins and you try to explain yourself but Luke interrupts you saying. “Y/n. You don’t have to explain, I trust you. Plus it’s kinda hard not to when you have a blood soaked bandage and three scars on your chest right where you said there would be. That’s insane though, it’s like straight out of a horror movie.”

You smile as he continues to talk, assuring you that he believes you as the pets your head and holds you tight. You bury your face into his shoulder, happy that there’s someone here that’s in your corner. That night before he tucks you in he writes his phone number on a post it note and writes in big letters, “Luke’s phone # call if you need ANYTHING and I mean it!” which makes you smile sleepily. It makes you feel safe and comforted.

And Luke did his best to keep his promise, he sometimes misses some calls but immediately calls the next chance he gets. As you turn 10 you notice some changes in your body. You don’t like it. It makes you look more… girly. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it just. It doesn’t feel right. When you look in the mirror you start to notice your body also turning more feminine. It’s not that you don’t like it’s just… It doesn’t feel right? You dismiss those thoughts however as you keep going to school.

You still don’t have any friends but Dick brings his friends over all the time. You sometimes watch them fool around, some redhead named Wally West, Roy Harper, Kaldur. Wally is the only one that’s the same age as Dick, Roy is barely four years older than you and Kaldur is older than Dick by two years. You’re fine with them, they look cool. One day you try to sneak into the kitchen without bothering them, wanting a snack. While you’re rummaging through the pantry you hear someone ask. “Who the hell are you?”

You turn around to see Roy looking at you with a raised eyebrow and his arms folded across his chest. You can see that he’s trying to look tough. He is failing. You turn away from him and grumble. “None of your business. Leave me.”

He does the opposite of what you say and gets closer as he asks. “Whatcha trying to get pipsqueak?”

You look at him, annoyed and say. “You fat butt, that’s what I’m looking for.”

Roy looks at you offended and says. “My butt is NOT fat! Take it back!”

You stick your tongue out at him and turn back to the pantry only to realise you forgot what you wanted. Then you turn back to Roy and growl. “Nice going numb nuts! Now I forgot what I wanted! I really wanted it too!”

Roy rolls his eyes and then says. “Well if you forgot what you wanted then maybe you didn’t want it that bad.”

Frustrated, you get teary eyed which makes Roy’s eyes widen. He sighs and goes over to the pantry and asks. “Did you want cookies?”

A bit confused, you brush your tears away before wetly asking. “What?”

He groans and asks again. “Was it cookies you wanted? Popcorn? Chips? Chocolate?”

You think about it a bit before asking for the peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. He looks at you like you’re insane before getting those things. You grab a spoon and put it on the island before climbing onto the stool. You scoop out some peanut butter and realise you have mo plate. You look at Roy pleadingly and ask. “Can you get me a plate please?”

He blushes for some reason and grumbles and walks to one of the base cabinets and opens it to just see pots and pans stacked up neatly. He then shyly asks. “Uh, do you know where plates are?”

You smile and let out a little giggle before saying. “You’re close. It’s right above.”

He nods robotically and looks to see if there’s a ladder, he grabs it and uses it to get a plate for you. You plop the peanut butter onto the plate and give it back to Roy and ask. “Could you please put it in the microwave? Pretty please?”

His face reddens further and he puts it in the microwave for a minute. He then grabs it but winces when he feels how hot it is. He then grabs an oven mitt, puts it on and brings the plate over. He then sits next to you and just stares at you. You look away slightly uncomfortable then dip your cookie into the melted peanut butter. You huff and puff at how hot it is, but it still tastes amazing. Roy then steals a cookie and does the same thing as you. He also huffs and puffs at how hot the peanut butter is. You laugh at that and continue to eat the cookies like that together and in silence. When you’re finished you give him a hug and whisper a thank you before jumping off the stool and going back to your room happily. Not noticing that Roy’s face was beet red and he stared at you as you left.

A few weeks later you saw that everyone in your school had a phone. You also wanted one, so after some pleading with Alfred who then relayed said pleas to Bruce, bought you a new WayneTech phone. You searched up all kinds of things, you’d look at pictures of your favourite characters all day. However you keep running into pictures one character kissing another character. But that’s not right they should be in love with the one you think is best. It just fits the story better and their personalities won’t clash! And that is how you ended up in a rabbit hole of lemon fanfics and fan art. This was all so cool! Online, you could be someone else! And people were into the same stuff you were into, and you found more things that peaked your interests, like manga and anime! You were into so many fandoms and the dopamine rush you get from seeing art of your fave character, or better yet, your fave ship was amazing! You loved this!

It didn’t take you long to get on Wattpad, Tumblr, Devianart as well as getting a Waynebook account. Which none of your family members know about because why the hell would they. And you obviously had to pretend to be a boy, I mean you wouldn’t want random people to know that you’re a girl and it’d be harder to find you in case anyone did try to find you. But while you were scrolling through Waynebook one day you saw that one of your favourite artists had an ‘NSFW’ account. You don’t know what that means so you clicked it and Oh. Oh wow. After that day you got into both yaoi and yuri. And you started following A LOT of NSFW accounts and got into some more ‘adult’ fanfics and doujinshis.

It really felt like the world was your playground after that, and after you found there was both official and fan merchandise? You said goodbye to your allowance because you needed that dakimura of your fave being submissive and breedable. You had pins all over your backpack and cute little key chains that your fave artists made of your babies. However on one of the days that Alfred took both Dick and you to school, Dick saw your backpack. He asks. “What’s that?”

You brighten up and start to explain, but you don’t even 5 seconds before he says. “That’s so weird. And you put that on your backpack? You want everyone to know you’re some kinda weirdo? Bruce would probably disgusted.”

Your smile goes away and you go quiet as Dick turns to look through the window. You mumble under your breath. “It’s not weird.”

Alfred scolds Dick for saying something like that, but you can tell that Alfred also thinks it’s not normal. Your eyes start to sting as you start to undo the pins and decorations on your backpack. You wish he never asked, you wish he didn’t get your hopes up. No one in this manor understands you. And then comes the question, would Daddy still love you like this? You start to cry quietly trying your best to stifle your sniffles but Dick notices. He rolls his eyes before mumbling an apology you know he doesn’t mean. You don’t say anything back.

You wish that was the worst thing about that day but no. In the middle of a test your seat starts to feel wet you look down to check and see that you’re bleeding. You get scared and ask the teacher if she could come to you. She doesn’t even look up when she says. “You have legs don’t you? Come and walk over here if you have something you need to say.”

You look down nervously and tell her. “Could you please come here instead? I don’t feel comfortable walking over there.”

She stares you down and sighs as she gets up to go close to you. She asks you. “Are you having trouble with a question?”

You shake your head and tell her you’re bleeding from your crotch. Her eye widen at that but her brows furrow when she says. “Don’t lie to me, you’re too young to be having a period. Just finish your test.”

You look at her, panicked and say. “I’m not! Miss can you just please help me?”

She sighs and as she combs through her hair she then says. “Fine. Get up then. Show me.”

You look up her horrified, you look around and see that some of the kids are looking over curious as to what’s happening. You look up at her pleadingly and ask. “Do I have to?”

She nods and then you sigh and get up, Eric, your former best friend and now class clown says. “Ewww, that’s so gross! She peed blood!”

Your face flushes with embarrassment as the teacher then realises her mistake she then ushers you to the bathroom and grabs a pad for you. She tells you how to use it and while you do that, she calls Alfred to pick you up but the damage is done. Alfred probably picks you up and helps you through it but after that day the kids at school start to call you bloody mary.

You start hiding your true self after that. You told Luke about both things and although he didn’t quite understand the fujoshi part, he was still supportive. So you continued the next few years. While Dick blossomed into a social butterfly and healed from his trauma, you enclose on yourself. Only blossoming during the night, when you were free to be yourself. When you were free to be as weird as you wanted to be. Your body keeps growing, but not in the way you want it to. You start to get self-conscious, hating the way your body looks and feels. So you start wearing oversized hoodies and baggy pants. You look at Dick and his friends and see their bodies. You wish you looked like that.

At some point at around 13 years old, you made a friend online. A girl named Robin she’s about 5 yeas older than you and really smart. She helps with your homework a lot and you’re thankful for her. When you tell her your feelings about your body growing she then asks. “Would you rather be a boy?”

You chuckle and say. “I mean, yeah. Boys have it easier. They don’t have to worry about their bodies. And they don’t have to worry about periods. They don’t have boobs either, so that’s cool. There’s also the pay gap-“

Robin interrupts. “Are you saying that to justify that? Or do you mean it?”

You pause, and think about it for a moment. You then say. “I don’t know. Like I look at Dick and his friends and I think, ‘Wow! I wish I had their clothing and musculature and I wish I could also be manly’ but like it’s not like I fantasise about it.”

Robin chuckles as she then says. “Mmm. So those times you wished you were a man and told me that if you were a man you’d want to be a ‘bara dilf’ didn’t happen? Or how you said that you wished you looked like (insert chara with your ideal body type)?”

You blush and think about her words and say. “Well it’s not like I can change anything-“

She interrupts you again as she says. “Yeah you can. You can get HRT and get that body and voice you want.”

You reply with. “What.”

She then explains the LGBTQ+ going through each letter calmly and letting you ask questions. It makes you pause and think about what you want and if this is you. And whether you might want to change your body. You mull it over for over a month when suddenly you have that weird dream again.

You’re on the shore, everything around you is serene and beautiful the sun setting. You turn around and there’s the cave that’s int the cliff side. You go towards it this time and as you get closer you can hear breathing. When you’re right in front of the cave you see the owl staring at you. It looks straight into your eyes and opens it mouth to let out some kind of recording. You hear a blood curdling scream, and garbled noises, implying someone is drowning or choking on their own blood as the ominous chanting in the background grows louder and louder overtaking the screams eventually. It then closes its mouth but voices don’t stop. Instead it feels like the sound is multiplying, like there’s more people that’s either screaming or chanting. It starts to hurt, and the pain gradually increases too. Until suddenly it all stops. You start heaving, not noticing that you were barely breathing the entire time. You fall to your knees as you shudder and hug yourself. You look up and the owl says in Bruce’s voice. “Behind you.” You slowly turn around to see the giant owl from last time. This time you get to see how big it actually is. It’s as big as a medium sized two story house. It then pecks at you, tearing through your flesh like a hot knife through butter. Tearing out your entrails at it keeps you down with its talons.

You wake up with a scream, you still feel the pain. And it takes more than a few moments to realise that you’re alive. And that it was just a dream.

After that you were so preoccupied with the dream and school that you completely put the thought of HRT and surgery out of your mind. Instead you start showing your art online, making fanfics and buying doujinshis, trying to keep your mind off these reoccurring dreams and the fact that your family doesn’t love you. 2 years pass like this, Bruce and Dick’s relationship has been rougher these days. You watch but don’t butt in, it’s none of your business anyways. But then Dick moves out and you can tell Bruce is depressed about it. You don’t know what to say or do but you start to leave tea or coffee for him in his office, so he won’t feel as lonely.

But that looks like it won’t be necessary, because instead of saying thank you and just be a normal man. He gets another child from the street, he tells you to be nice to him, to be kind. As if you didn’t know the harshness of the city. You’d argue about it but you had no energy for that. That’s when you meet Jason, your little brother.

He looked skinny, the child like look that was supposed to be in his eyes are not there, replaced with a wariness that you can recognise was developed over time. His clothes were too big for him, almost swallowing him up. You could tell he was uncomfortable and Dick isn’t here anymore. And even if he was, he’s been real prickly since his argument with Bruce. You sigh and wonder, is that what you looked like? It’s obvious that he’s older than when you came to the manor but because of the malnourishment he looks as if he’s nine.

You didn’t interact much in the beginning, at least not until the next week when a thunder came along. You were staying up doing some commissions when your door opens, you blink at the light flooding your room wincing as it makes your tired eyes sting. When you can see properly you can see Jason just standing there, blanket in hand. Before you can say anything he barges into your room and gets into your bed. You look at him confused and flabbergasted before you save your progress and turn off your computer and drawing tablet. You go to the bathroom to change into your pjs before standing right by the aide of the bed. You see that he’s shaking. You look at him sympathetically as you remember when your Daddy used to do that. You sigh as you get in bed and curl around him, you wrap your arms around his waist. The two of you fall asleep like that, while you hoped you could be be of good use to him. However when you wake up he isn’t there, you clench your fist as you lay there. Tired, and lonely again.

————————

Hello! Hope you liked it! If any of the charas are too ooc please tell me! I would like to be kinda accurate in some way.

Edit: For those who saw what the title was before, no you didn’t.

Edit 2: I made Roy a bit older

Taglist:

@simpingpandas

#mine arth #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #neglected reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #luke fox #lucius fox #yandere batman #platonic #that last scene is NOT ship #do not tag as ship #tw neglect #tw slight gore

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awriterinthenight · 7 months ago

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"Is this real?"-Jess Mariano

words: 983

warnings: Jess being a tiny bit of an asshole, language, Jess Mariano x Artist!Reader

summary: You and Jess never got along back in New York, but when your art gets hung up in a gallery, Jess is the first person you want to tell. But, he's no longer in New York

You'd done it, you actually did it. This seemed like something you had only dreamed of, but here it was the proof that you actually had done it.

You were a very passionate artist, working hard on everything you did. Making sure every painting was almost perfect, and it seemed to finally pay off. Your art was being hung up in one of the biggest art galleries. They were doing an installment of a young artists works, and by some miracle yours got picked,

Thinking about it, the only reason this happened was because of Jess. He wasn't the nicest to you exactly. The two of you seemed to have a random rivalry for almost no reason at all. Yet he was the one who always pushed you.

If he thought something was off with your painting, he wasn't afraid to say it, and have you rethink the entire painting. Sometimes you talked about how one day you wanted your art framed in a famous gallery. If he overheard that he would immediately say something like 'not with that splotchy painting' which would annoy you, especially since he wasn't an artist. But now you realized that without his helpful critiques, you probably wouldn't be here right now.

As strange as it sounds, all you wanted to do was run to him and tell him all about how your art was going to be in a gallery. Even though he was a dick about your art, sometimes if you really accomplished something, like winning a prize or being recognized, he would congratulate you and be entirely sincere about it.

The thing was though, that Jess no longer lived in New York. His mom had shipped him down to some random small town to live with his uncle. You didn't know his current number, or even where he was, so it looked like you had to give up hope.

Or, at least you thought you did, till you remembered you knew Liz's number. You called her, asking where Jess was. She seemed suspicious to why some girl was asking about where he was, but once you explained that you were his friend, which is kind of a lie, but also kind of not, she gladly told you that he was in some town called Stars Hollow, living with his uncle Luke, at a diner called Luke's.

You thanked Liz for the information, quickly grabbing your keys and running to your car. The drive from New York to Stars Hollow was only about 2 hours with traffic. You made it down there in what felt like almost no time, it was now almost 4pm when you parked outside of the diner, where you could see Jess from the window.

Grabbing the newspaper that had the picture of your art, and the article on it, you ran inside. A site like this was something new for the people of Stars Hollow, so they were all intrigued when an unfamiliar girl, in a leather jack ran into Luke's diner, shouting, "Jess, jess."

Jess looked up from where he was taking an order behind the counter, immediately recognizing your voice in a second, "Y/N, w-what are you doing he-" he started to say, getting cut off by you.

"Shut up, just read this," you told him, practically shoving the paper into his hands, as you leant over the counter.

He smirked at you demanding him to read the paper, "Alright, alright calm down," he said, starting to read the paper. He read it rather quickly, his eyes picking up on keywords. In moments his mouth broke into a huge grin, he had read how your artwork was being framed in a rather well known gallery.

"No way, is this real?" he asked, in shock at how you finally accomplished your dreams.

You nodded frantically, "Yes, it's already up, but the exhibit opens next week," you told him.

Not being able to contain his excitement for you, he moved around the counter, hugging you. He even spun you around a couple times, proud of you for your accomplishment.

"I can't believe it," he said, smiling down at you after he set you down, "We have to celebrate, how long are you in town for?" he asked.

You shrugged, "I don't know, how long do you want me to stay?" you ask a seemingly innocent question, since you weren't in any rush to leave.

Jess could feel his brain short circuit at that moment. He desperately wanted to say 'forever', but knew that couldn't, "My shift ends at 6, so you can come back around then, and if you want you can find somewhere to crash for the night, then leave in the morning," Jess said, trying not to think of how you might have to leave at some point.

"Perfect," you said, "I'll come back around 6 then, I'll see you later," you told him, walking out of Luke's diner. You were gonna spend the next two hours touring around town and some of the small shops.

Jess didn't realize it until now, but the entire diner had been quiet since the moment you walked in. Everyone was in utter shock that the delinquent Jess Mariano, who was known for not caring for anyone, was just seen with a girl, who he was looking at as if she was the only important thing in this world.

"What are you all staring at," he yelled, making everyone go back to their usual activities, now that regular Jess was back. He turned to Luke who was still staring at him, "What, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, annoyed at everyone.

"Nothing," Luke said, too tired to deal with this. You didn't know it yet, but soon you would be the talk of the town. The girl who was able to make Jess Mariano, actually care for someone.

#x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #gilmore girls

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nana-luvy · 6 months ago

Text

. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 .

warnings: fluff, afab!reader, daughter of Aphrodite!reader, bestfriend!Luke, no established relationship, they're both blinded by their own fears (also, two uses of y/n, sorry but i weirdly couldn't do without)

In which everyone wants her, and she just wants to be loved the right way.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Hey, sorry, can I talk to you for a second ?”

You turned your head in the voice’s direction, diverting your attention from Luke who was sitting in front of you at the small picnic table, your hair moving in slow-motion like even the wind was in on trying to make you appear even more godly than you already did.

“Ethan, hey. Sure, do you need something ?”

Your voice was soft, like a soothing melody carried to the boy’s ears. You tilted your head to the side when he looked at Luke and then back at you, his hands fidgety and betraying his nervousness.

“Can we… talk alone ? Please ?” the boy said, a question seemingly directed to Luke more than to who he was previously talking to.

’Oh, he’s one of them.’ the curly haired thought, a brief look of annoyance flashing through his eyes.

But before he could say anything, you cut him in his track, gracefully lifting yourself off the wooden picnic bench, your long, perfectly manicured finger pointing at him before you spoke. “You wait here, we’ll go.”

You offered him a sweet smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, before turning around, motioning to Ethan with a small ‘lead the way’, before you both went a little farther from the center of the camp.

Luke was frustrated, terribly so, as he saw yet another one make a move on you when he couldn’t bring himself to. You, his best friend since he first arrived at camp ; you, the Aphrodite child who probably took the most genes from their mother ; you, the one person he couldn’t get off his mind since long before he even knew what feelings were. Just one girl had become the center of his small world, his life revolved around you like the earth could only ever think of circling around its Sun. You were his Sun.

Luke was torn from his reverie by a random kid from his cabin asking for advice about a prank to pull on his twin, and the counselor couldn’t have been happier about the mischief all his siblings and himself had in their blood that, in this moment, would be saving him from spiraling thoughts and solitary mopping. Was he dramatic ? Very much, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to you.

“How bad are we talking ? For the prank ?”

“Hmmmm… Not too bad because she’s gonna go all crazy on me if it’s too much…” the little boy said, clearly frustrated.

Luke thought for a second, a smirk lighting up his face. He got closer to his little half-brother, and whispered in a conspiracy-like tone.

“I think you can go ask one of the Stoll bros for glitter and put it inside her bed sheets, like all over her mattress’ cover. How’s that ?”

The two snickered together, before someone cleared their throat behind them, and Luke turned around to see you standing there, back at the table, with Ethan nowhere to be seen.

“Again at being a bad influence on the youth, Castellan ?” you asked, though it did sound like more of a statement, arms crossed over your chest with a small smile dancing on your lips. But Luke immediately acknowledged the crease of your eyebrows.

Yet, he decided he wouldn’t ask about it, not right this moment at least. “You know it’s the only thing that makes life at camp just a tinge less boring.”

“Oh, so I don’t make your life at camp any less boring ?”

The boy thought for a second, theatrically tapping a finger on his chin, before looking back right in your eyes. “You’re right, it’s just the second only thing to make camp-life less boring, right after you Bee.”

Though you wouldn’t show it, you felt your heart skip a beat. The slight drag in his voice when he used your nickname, the one he had claimed for him only to use years ago, his queen bee; the flirty smirk that played at the corner of his lips, one you should’ve grown accustomed to after so much time but still had her heart racing; the look in his hazelnut eyes, one you could only tell yourself was carrying an intention your delusion made up, because that was the only explanation. All the things that you shouldn’t be paying attention to, but that made your heart leap in your chest and your hopelessness rise up again.

“Cut the flirting or I’ll cut your pretty curls in your sleep.” you only chose to answer, trying to calm down the simmer of her emotions. As Luke faked a shot in the chest, you stepped over the bench on the other side of the table, sitting back in your place.

By now the young Hermes boy had left and you were only together in the clearing again, very few people going around this area in the middle of the afternoon. The Sun was shining right above your heads, center of the sky, a light breeze grazing your skin and sparing you a little of the summer heat that had everyone else running to the beach for most of the day.

A small silence settled upon you both, and you went back to the little paper butterfly origamis you were preparing for your younger half-siblings, while Luke just watched your precise folding, before he finally spoke the question that burnt his lips.

“So… are you still single?” the brunette asked, somewhat hesitant even if you both were now very used to the conversation, and the little sigh that left your lips in front of him made his own curl in a concealed smile.

“I think we can write him out as part of ‘all the other ones who tried before’.” you said, mimicking a quoting sign with her fingers. Luke let out a little laugh at your way to phrase it, before you continued. “I mean, he could’ve been great, I guess. He was all nervous and fidgety, and his eyes were all over the place, it was kinda cute y’know ? And then boom, wrong question Ethan. The disillusion hit hard. I mean maybe I didn’t think he would be ‘The One’, you know, and I didn’t have much prior expectations, but… it’s getting tiring.”

Even if he had heard it tens of times, Luke listened intently, looking you in the eyes even if you didn’t look back, head resting on his palm for support as you rambled on about how Ethan was only one of the others. Again. But he didn’t grow tired of hearing it, never, because it only meant he still had a chance, it meant you hadn’t been took away from him by someone else. Yet.

“And why did you turn him down then, if he’s so great ? Is it really the question thing again ?” the brunette asked, a hint of a laugh still in his voice.

“It is… I know you wanna make fun of me, but he just didn’t- he didn’t say it right.” Your shoulders slumped a little, a pout growing on your lips, but quickly you pursed them instead, shaking your head slightly. “But anyway, I’m used to it, it’ll work out one day.”

As you said those words, your eyes longingly looked back at the boy in front of you, and you couldn’t understand how he didn’t notice it, the way your eyes almost always searched for anything that mirrored your own feelings in the depth of his brown orbs. It was just one of those moments now, seeing him on the other side of the table, where you knew you could just touch his face if you reached with you hand and yet you felt like there were worlds between the both of you.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you, Bee, as much as I’d love to, don’t you worry your little head.” he started, attempting to poke at your hair playfully but you swatted his hand away with a amused roll of your eyes. “But I will notice the dedication, really. How long has it been now, over three years since you’ve dated anyone ?” He perfectly knew it was three years, because the moment you started dating that girl was the moment he discovered the meaning of his own feelings and what true jealousy felt like. “And you don’t waver, huh ?”

“Yeah, you know me, I’m hard headed..” You couldn’t repress a small smile through your obvious sarcasm, before continuing. “But it’s just… I don’t think it should be that difficult for people to find my answer. They’re all bouncing off a wall with their poor questions, and the next comes with an almost exact same one, it’s dumb to do the same thing over and over again and still expect a different outcome..” You sighed, exasperated, looking up at the sky. “I swear, if you know me just the littlest bit, it’s not that complicated…”

Luke’s gaze cast downwards, hearing your faint whisper brought to his ears by the wind, because it just felt like another reminder that you would never have him as more than friends, and he probably didn’t deserve it anyway. Because, even if you claimed it wasn’t so hard of an enigma, in the end, he didn’t have the answer either.

“So… what’s the magic ‘not complicated’ question, then, Mini-Bee ?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes like a woman in the 18th century trying to get her ways.

But, just as you said every time he asked that before, you just looked at him with a smile and said,

“You’ll be the first to know when someone says it right, but until then, I don’t want to give any hints. It would rig the system ~”

And you quickly added “And do not call me Mini-Bee or I’m gonna kick you in the shin and it’s gonna hurt.”

“Not very Aphrodite’s daughter of you, Mini-Bee ~” Luke teased, hiding every bit of his disappointment, and you both ran off, chasing after him with a pine cone in your hand you had every intention to throw in his face.

It was breakfast, a few days later, and you had just left the table with a girl from the Apollo cabin who, apparently, needed your help with something. But from the corner of his eye, Luke could clearly see the small cheering a group of Apollo kids were doing in her direction from their table in the Dining Pavilion.

“Ok so.. is anyone gonna address the elephant in the room, or are we just going to collectively act like there’s not a single problem here ?” Chris said, tentatively like just speaking about it would scare the conversation away.

Luke looked up from the plate where he was absentmindedly picking at his food without really eating it, clearly confused as to whatever Chris was talking about. But looking around the table, he noticed the other’s gazes all centered on him.

“Oh, what again?” he said, more snappy than he intended. “Is it about her again ? Guys, don’t ask again, it’s pointless. You’re just doing the same thing over and over again, while expecting a different outcome…”

“Even grumpy Luke can’t help but copy her expressions ~” Silena teased from the other side of the table, though the dreamy sigh she let out right after did clash a little. “Can’t you just man up already ?”

“Um can’t you just shut up already ?” the brunette replied, though immediately regretting it. “I- shit, sorry, didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t worry, I get it : you’re seeing the girl you’ve been fancying for gods know how long being asked out by everyone and you still can’t make just the slightest step in her direction because you’re just that much of a scarred kitten. Tough.” Silena remarked back, sipping on her drink like she didn’t just punch him in the stomach with her words, while everyone else’s eyes widened, looking at each other surprised but still amused. He probably needed to hear that, after all, because the scaredy-cat act was getting too painful to watch.

“I-” He let out a frustrated sigh, taking his head in his hands and letting down his fork in a loud clatter of metal and ceramic. “You don’t get it, you can’t get it. I can’t ask her if I don’t have the right question, or else she’ll just look at me with that pained look she gave everyone else and- no, it’d be stupid, careless, absolutely suicidal.”

“What the fuck are you rambling about?”

“Language, Percy.” everyone sternly snapped at the little boy.

“No but i mean, be for real, you don’t make any sense bro. Like, what do you even mean ‘right question’, that’s just a bullshit excu-”

“Language!”

“Fine, chill… Still, just a lame excuse bro.” Percy continued, mumbling in annoyance. “And by the way, Clarisse is just a year older and she swears all the time.”

They all gladly ignored the last comment, staring intently at Luke for an answer. An answer he didn’t exactly want to give, because he knew they wouldn’t understand, but a part of him felt the painful need to finally vent about the one thing he couldn’t allow himself to talk to you about.

“It’s… it’s complicated… Bee has this kind of.. this kind of only exigence, i guess? I mean, for her to like, accept to go out with someone, she wants to be asked out a certain way or som-” he started to try and explicate, stumbling a little over his words, before Silena cut him off.

“Oooh that ~ Oh I know about it.”

“You what?” Luke felt like he could’ve just broken his neck from how fast he snapped his head in the girls direction, his eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you mean you ‘know about it’ ?”

Silena let out a little giggle, and Luke just became even more confused. “I don’t ‘know it’ know it, if that’s what you’re asking. She just…talked about it, a few times, you know ? Something along the lines of ‘I swear these people are so frustrating, asking me to be their girlfriend, when they don’t even know me enough to guess it’s not what i want.’” she said, mimicking her half-sister’s annoyance.

“Yeah, doesn’t give me much intel, huh…”

“Oh girl, you’re finally back!” Annabeth greeted, cutting short to Luke’s spiraling thoughts. “Now go back to your best friend, or else he’s gonna keep on sulking. I swear we could see the light go out of him when you’re leaving.” she joked, insisting on the ‘best friend’ and making Luke cringe a little.

With a little laugh, you went to take the free seat next to Luke, throwing him an amused look. “See, I totally make your life at camp more entertaining.”

Here it was again, the characteristic flirty smirk. The one that swayed your heart.

“Yeah, you totally do.” The whisper of his voice sent a chill over your skin. “Have you broken yet another heart, Medusa ?”

And for just a second, you thought that the question meant a little more than it let on, before shaking the feeling off. “I have yet again been disappointed by demi-humanity, if it is what you ask.”

“What a heart breaker..”

While everyone else at the table didn’t pay you any mind, engulfed in their own conversation, the tension between you two, on your corner, was thick. Luke had slightly leaned in to whisper his last sentence, throwing you that ravishing smile he used so well, while you had your head slightly tilted to the side in fake innocence and mock confusion at his claim.

“Now that I think about it, I haven’t broken yours yet, waiting for your turn ?” You reached over the small space between you to adjust a curl that was falling in front of his eyes, but saw something flash in his eyes for a second, a small tremor that cut through his expression for the shortest moment before he went back to his cocky self.

“And be one among others ? No thank you, not for me.”

But little did you know, it was actually one of his greatest fears, as a demigod who could get killed any second: feeling like one among a million of others who tried but didn’t succeed rather than being the one in a million who stayed by your side.

“You’re doing bunnies today ?” Luke asked as he walked your way. You were sitting over some big rocks on the side Canoe Lake, colorful origami papers on your lap while you folded one meticulously, paper bunnies next to you in a small basket.

“Lily got hurt yesterday during capture the flag, I thought I’d do something to keep her company in the infirmary…” You didn’t tear your eyes away from the piece of paper in your hands as you replied.

“So you chose to gift her… an army of bunnies ?” he said with a confused smile, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to contain a laugh.

That made you look at him with a scowl. “Well, it’s the only think I know how to do, and she likes bunnies so…”

“Hey, just saying…” the brunette replied, hands up in surrender as he climbed the rocks to take a seat next to you. He grabbed a little paper animal by the ears, examining it, before speaking again. “But don’t worry, it’s cute.”

And you felt really dumb when your heart skipped beat just because the word left his lips. Not even for you, just for a dumb paper rabbit.

“How did you find me, by the way ?” you quickly changed the subject.

The boy just shrugged. “I don’t know, just followed my Bee radar or something.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“But why though ? You’re hiding or something ?”

You let out a soft sigh, halting in your folding for a second. “Matt wants to confess again.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow.”

“What is it, like..the fourth time already ?” Luke asked in disbelief: the boy had some real problems with rejection.

“Yeahh… But it’s really fun, and I say that in a fully ironic way, because I tell him no, and I explain that it’s both because it’s really not how I want to be asked out and because I just don’t like him i general, but he comes back. Each time. With almost the same way of asking out, for real.” you replied, growing noticeably exasperated by the seconds.

And Luke would use just anything that could help him.

“Wow, he’s that hard headed huh ? What did he even say, he just twisted the sentence a little ?”

“Yeah! He’s all like “can you be my girlfriend”, then “would you”, last time “could you”. Ugh, I swear if he finds me he’s gonna ask “do you wanna be my girlfriend” and I’m going to loose it. And gods forbid I do what I have in mind, because my mother is the Goddess of passion and my hatred for people who force their way in is an inextinguishable fire.”

“Damn.” the boy next to you said, not able to continue his thought as you just carried on.

“I mean, why does he come back like that all the time? He doesn’t even love me, let alone like me, I mean I barely see the guy around camp so I doubt he knows more about me than whatever gossip there could be running around. Is it so hard to conceive me as something other than a mere trophy ?”

“What? Of c-”

“I get that my mother is pretty, and maybe I even got some of her genes, but it doesn’t mean I want to be treated like an intricate set of china you just expose on a wall! I’m my own person, living person, and I want my own too…”

“What are you ta-”

“They never get it, no matter how much I say it. They never let me say anything, and if they do they never listen to me. And for some obscure reason, it’s not just the guys, even the others don’t ever get what I say, they don’t even try to pay attention to my reasons, they just think I’m some dumb girl who thinks she’s too good and makes up reasons. I hear them all, talking in my back like snakes… All they do is talk about themselves, they never take me into consideration, like I’m only the transaction, and I’m tired.”

As you spoke, Luke just looked at you from the side, his eyebrows furrowed in compassion. He might not have been able to fully feel what you felt, but he could at least imagine the loneliness you might’ve felt from this all. Your voice had become just a whisper by the end, your eyes downcast though the brunette could see water pearling at the corners, and he couldn’t help the wave of emotions that passed through him.

“Hey, it’s ok..” he whispered in a low breath, before shuffling closer and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You immediately snuggled against him, not bothering to hug him back but just letting Luke’s arms engulf you with their comforting warmth. Your shoulders were stuttering along with soft sniffling sounds, and the boy couldn’t help but cradle your hair affectionately, trying to soothe you back to calm as small drops fell against his shirt, unconcealed affection bleeding out of his every gesture.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally broke away, pushing yourself from his chest before you’d grow so addicted to the feeling of being in his arms that you’d never leave.

“You kinda look like a panda.” Luke teased, fumbling with his pockets to find a pack of tissues.

You dabbed a finger under your eye, seeing the mascara transferring to your skin in annoyance. “Erh… Do I at least look like a cute panda?”

“You look like a really depressed panda.”

“Charming… You know, the more I think about it, the more I wish I had written love letters to my crushes and never sent them, when I was younger. Because I could really use a Peter Kavinsky right now…” you whined, a pout on your face, and the boy couldn’t help but find it extremely cute, more than just flirtiness dancing on his smile.

The brunette scoffed, sprinkling some water from the lake on the tissue. “To be honest, you’re more Christine material than Lara Jean’s.”

“Oh fuck you..” you replied with a laugh, that quickly died in your throat as Luke gently grabbed your chin to make you face him.

“Wow, you pray to your mom with that mouth ?” he joked, watching intently right under your eye as he started dabbing the damp tissue on the skin to clean up the runny makeup.

His focused expression, with his face a few inches from yours only, had you go a little haywire, your eyes confusedly dancing along his features as you didn’t know where to look; his piercing brown eyes, the long white scar decorating his cheekbone, his slightly parted lips- ‘look somewhere else before you start drooling.’

“I don- whatever…”

Luke didn’t pay it much attention, finally putting back the now stained tissue in his pocket. “All clear, just reddish eyes but you’ll have-” His voice cracked as he realized actually just how close you two were, your gaze now fixated back in his eyes as he spoke. He cleared his throat before continuing, “You’ll have to manage.”

“Yeah..” you replied in a breath as Luke’s fingers lingered just another second on your face.

His mind was whirling uncontrollably, he couldn’t seem to make it stop as he tossed and turned over his bed sheets. The air was already wrapping around him like a blanket, warm and heavy around the room, and Luke just couldn’t seem to get the sleep he needed as the humid air stuck to his skin uncomfortably. The buzzing of the insects outside of the cabin seemed to grow louder as time passed, filling the silent night along with the soft snoring of asleep campers across the room, only acting as a reminder of his own restlessness.

But his mind was running a hundred miles an hour, trying to find the solution to the enigma that plagued his mind, trying to move every possible hint in every possible angle, but it was like filling a puzzle without knowing which pieces you were supposed to use or how the final picture looked.

“If they knew me enough, the way someone who really likes me would, they’d know how to say it…” he muttered, now laying back on the bed with an arm under his head as he looked to the ceiling, quoting you. But how to say what ? How to say what ? Luke thought he liked you enough, Hells, loved you enough to get it, he had known you for years, through high and lows, for laughs and sometimes even tears, and even him wasn’t able to make sense of the puzzle.

‘He asked me to be his girlfriend.. dammit.’

What’s so wrong about that ? Isn’t it basically what asking someone out is about ? Wasn’t the whole point of dating someone, at least on a female point of view, to be their partner…? But as he reminisced, Luke felt something off in the sentence, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It just sounded a lot like what Silena had talked to him about, with this same kind of lingering indignation…

‘a mere trophy’ ‘an intricate set of china you just expose on a wall’ ‘I’m only the transaction’

Those parts were tugging at Luke’s heart strings, if he had to be honest about it, because he understood how hurtful that might be: to be dehumanized, reduced to what people want and expect from you rather to what you truly and fully are.

It had happened before he left for his quest, during his quest and when he came back. Everyone expected him to be the hero, the mighty soldier of the god who would conquer, deliver and come back unharmed, the one who would deserve glory and cast light upon demigods. And when he came back, heart hanging low in his chest, scarred and just a shadow of himself, people still looked up to him, the best swordsman at camp, the one who came back. They all cast on him an image that he knew he wasn’t truly delivering. Actually, you were the only one who had really cared, because you had seen beneath the mask of fake glorious smiles, you had hugged him as tears streamed down his cheeks and his scar burnt red across his face, you had seen him as more than the distorted reflection that people wanted him to be.

And just as you did before, he wanted to be able to see through your words, to decipher your thoughts: because he valued you as so much more than just a mere object or a mean to a social climb, and he wanted you to understand it.

‘they always talk about themselves’

What did you mean? There were so many readings..

Luke’s thoughts were hazy, tiredness mixed with whatever was keeping him from sleeping like everyone else did. They were going in every direction, trying to make sense of everything that crossed his mind, rethinking everything in search of a detail he might have missed.

“Talk about themselves…” he mumbled, eyes closing tightly like that would help him pierce the riddle right through.

Of course, people did love to talk about themselves, and people who actually had godly ascending even more. But the sentence just made the boy tick, as if it had to be dug in deeper, holding something more than just its surface meaning-

“Man, shut up, please I’m tryna sleep…” a groggy voice said in the bunk right over Luke’s, Chris apparently annoyed by his bunkmate’s muttering for the past hour, before the brunette could hear shuffling in the bed above and the return of the soft snoring. Luke stifled a laugh, thinking it might probably be about time for him to sleep to, but the more he tried, the more his brain worked the question that plagued his mind.

And the next moment he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until morning, because something in his mind clicked, and the pieces finally formed a full picture. Because it made sense.

They always asked to get something from you, never to give you something, they asked of you but never about you, people assumed and didn’t search further, maybe because they didn’t think of you but for you. And you had every reason to grow tired of it, because the one thing that made you so sought after and desired was also the thing that cursed the opinion people had of you.

And knowing he finally had his answer to this never-ending question, Luke just couldn’t sleep, too expectant. When was he supposed to tell you? How was he supposed to tell you? The only thing he knew for sure was that after years, waiting just those few hours would be the most torturous thing he’d ever have to do.

As the morning came, the sun starting to rise in the sky, you didn’t have it in you to fully wake up, only wanting to lounge in bed for a little longer.

“Go without me…” you mumbled as one of your half-siblings asked if you were going for breakfast, being completely engulfed under your pink plaid even in this hot summer morning, book in hand.

“Fine, but you really have to eat though, ok ? I’ll try to sneak you back a stack of pancakes.”

“Oh you are just the best ~”

You finally had the cabin to herself, focusing your whole undivided attention to the book you were reading, kicking your feet like a silly teenage girl under your covers as you re-enacted every funny interaction on the white pages.

“Oh hell yes, Wes fucking Bennett, more than time to get your Buxbaum back!” you squealed, rolling around in the bed with the book pressed to your chest. “I can’t believe I have to wait hundreds of pages for anything to happennnnn…”

You were brought back from your reverie by a few knocks on the door of the Cabin and fell dead silent, not wanting any interaction to stop your reading moment and acting like no one was in.

“Bee ?”

Oh, okay, maybe you’d move.

You shuffled out of your bed sheets, putting on your fluffy slippers and dusting your already perfectly ironed pajamas, before going to open the door to see Luke on the other side. He looked…tired, to say the less.

“Hey, good…morning… Are you okay ?” you asked as you registered your best friend’s appearance on the checkered deck in front of the cabin, messy curls falling in all directions and heavy bags under his eyes.

The boy nervously ran a hand through his hair before answering. “I- yeah, hey. I just didn’t sleep well. But anyway, I kinda need to talk to you, and I was gonna catch you after breakfast but then you weren’t coming and I heard you were still here so…”

“Oh, yeah sure, come in.” you replied, opening the door further so he could go in, the strong smell of perfume slipping outside as you did so.

“Or- or is it a bad moment ? I can come by later-”

“Nah it’s fine, just didn’t feel like getting out of bed it’s fine now.” you cut him off, adjusting the straps of your top nervously as you crossed Luke’s gaze before he finally came inside.

You trailed behind him before reaching your bed, going to sit on it and pulling the plaid over your legs, before tapping the space next to you, inviting Luke to do the same. He only shook his head, starting to pace around between your bed and the one next to it, walking slowly but definitely exuding a nervous aura.

“Luke, are you sure you’re okay ? Is something wrong ?” You had rarely seen him like that, to be honest, and you could feel his very communicative stress seeping in your own skin. “I’m not gonna lie, you’re starting to stress me out a little, too…”

Luke stopped in his motion, looking worriedly at your downcast look. “Oh, no, Bee I’m sorry, don’t you worry. It’s not that serious I just… I just know I only have one chance and I don’t want to mess this up.”

He exhaled heavily, and you looked back up at him with this one expression that made his knees go weak under him and his mind get hazy; the worry in your gaze mixed with confusion, your furrowed eyebrows, it just urged him to blurt out everything when he knew it wasn’t the best way to do it.

Luke ran another hand in his already messy curls frustratingly. “I didn’t expect to do that in this completely disheveled state, to be honest, I think I’ve always imagined a little more of a fitting scenery, like a hidden spot in the forest, or the evening around a campfire or anything that didn’t involve huge eye-bags and pajamas but…” He took a long, deep breath, closing his eyes to calm his nerves even the tiniest bit not to look too fidgety when he said…

“I like you. Really, really, really much.”

Silence followed as you stared in each other’s eyes, looking frozen as Luke tried to find the most subtle hint of whatever you could be thinking inside your gaze, his heart almost bursting in his chest in apprehension. Because he felt like he had waited for this moment to come for so long, and maybe if he hadn’t done it now it would’ve killed his spirit forever, but also maybe he should’ve been happy being close to you as a friend all this time. Because now, it was ruined, whatever direction it was gonna take.

On the other side, sat on the bed, you were stuck in your head. It was like your blood had stopped flowing through your veins and yet was pounding in your temples, like your heart was beating in your brain but your mind had stopped working. The time had stopped for you, because it all felt too unreal to be true.

You had dreamed about it, in some way, and now living the situation was so…frightening. Because sure, you had hoped your feelings weren’t totally one-sided, and having it spoken to you was an insane feeling, but now you just felt like whatever you had settled for over the last years, the thing that made you feel less lonely in the crazy environment you called home might have just broken apart from you. But if there was one person who could come back from it, it was him. It was Luke.

“Oh, I- Luke, it-”

“Please, wait.” Another deep breath, to calm his nerves. “I’m not just saying it randomly, it’s not just words I throw around, you know it. I don’t exactly like dealing with feelings, but I just know I have to do it, this time, because it might be the only chance I ever get to do it, really…”

His gaze now hung low, still standing but looking down at the blue carpet under his shoes. “I know this is out of the blue, and I know you might not expect it and maybe you don’t want it, and if you don’t it’s all fine, I just hope things can come back, even in the littlest, to how they were before right now. But, y/n…”

You realized you were holding her breath, your full name sounding weird when Luke rarely used it to talk to you, and it made you think of all the romance book you read, it sounded like a final scene, where the characters had the heart to heart talk, and no misunderstanding was left to wonder about because all pieces finally came perfectly together. Expect you weren’t a Lara-Jean, you weren’t a Liz, you weren’t an Alice, and Luke wasn’t Henry, or Wes or Peter. And everything could crumble.

‘Please, Luke, please don’t fuck up, because I can’t drop this even for you, it’s kept my heart safe for too long, and you’re the only one I believe can do it, deep down…The only one I hope does it…’

“Y/n, can I, please…” He marked a beat, his tone dead serious in the silence of the large room where you could barely hear a fly, the tension thick in the air.

“Please what ?”

“Can I please be your boyfriend, please ?”

His eyes were deeply rooted in your gaze now, he couldn’t tear them away in fear it would break the moment, and he saw the soft smile slowly grow on your face, the water gathering in your eyes, the way the light shone on your face through the window, the way your hair fell in a messy look that perfectly framed your face, and it was like he was falling in love all over again.

Your lips parted to say something, but he was quicker. “Wait, please, just one last thing: scratch what I said in the beginning, I love you. Really, really, really much.”

“That’s a lot of ‘please’ and a lot of ‘really’..” you replied with a hint of a laugh in her voice.

“It…is, yeah.” The boy scratched his nape awkwardly, still not moving from his spot. He felt like it might be too much of an intrusion, like he should let you the space to think about it. All the cockiness had left his body the instant he stepped foot in the cabin, and he felt incredibly vulnerable, like your eyes could now pierce right through the protective shell he almost always had on.

You swept a tear off your cheek with the tip of your fingers, holding in a quiet sob, before continuing. “You know how I told you you’d be the first to know when someone found it ? The question.”

‘Please let it be it, please, I don’t know what I’ll do if I was wrong.’

“Well someone found it, just now.” you continued, finally getting up from the bed and practically running in Luke’s arms, pulling him in a tight hug. You buried your face on his shoulder, tears soaking the fabric. “What took you so fucking long, Luke…” you whispered, pulling him impossibly closer so you could hug him with all your might.

The brunette stayed still for an instant, his mind needing a little time to register the situation. So that was it, he was not one among a million but the one in a million, and now he was decided to never let that title slip from his fingers. His arms wrapped around you as his mind did around the idea of what had happened, softly nuzzling his head down in you hair.

“Well you were not exactly straight-forward, if I had to be honest, and we both know I can be a little slow to catch on, so…”

“Yeah, you’re a real jock aren’t you ?” you replied playfully, though not moving an inch.

Luke raised his head, looking down at the you with an amused look on his face. “Well, now I just have to play lacrosse and I’ll be the perfect Kavinsky for you.”

A small blush crept up your cheeks as you looked back up in the boy’s eyes. “I’m so happy I forced you to watch romcoms with me all this time.” you said, before getting on your tiptoes, kissing his lips while all the emotions you two had ever pushed down finally flowed back to the surface.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Heyyy luvs <3

Ok so I know this is a liiiittle lame and lacking creativity but… idk i kinda like it <3 (not me being a delulu hopeless romantic girl obsessed w YA romance books who only wants this to happen irl.)

Fun fact, I’m actually writing a few of those os while at my internship workplace… Don’t tell on me <3

Hope you enjoyed it, don’t hesitate to tell me heheh (i love validation. Dead serious. I was that girl in school istgs) and I hope you have a good day / week ahead of youuuu

Love, Nana ~

#imagine #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #lukecastellan #oneshot #pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo luke castellan #pjo series #fanfiction #bsf!luke castellan

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ifimdreaming · 1 year ago

Text

can i take you home?

luke hughes x reader || angst, fluff

request: “i like the idea of her best friend going to michigan/dating a former teammate of lukes so thats how luke and reader meet! i love angst and given that its lukes rookie year/she goes to college in another state, maybe they could be friends w benefits but both have strong feelings.”

author's note: i thought this request was so so cute so i kind of took it and ran. also kinda influenced by i miss you, im sorry by gracie abrams. this is also super long but i hope the ending is worth it. let me know if i should do more parts of this!

word count: 5.0k

Waking up to the sound of your best friend pounding on the guest bedroom door at 7am was not exactly the best way to start your day. But since you are staying the weekend in her student house that she shares with 5 other people, there are definitely unluckier ways you could have been awoken.

“Morning sleepy head!!! I'm so happy you're up!” your best friend Emma almost shouts as she barges in the room, after you very reluctantly told her she could come in. She immediately begins opening the curtains, and rummaging through her closet to find her outfit for the day.

In her haste she almost spills the two cups of coffee she had brought up from the kitchen as she sets them on the dresser beside the bed, her mug being almost completely empty anyway. You can tell by her enthusiasm and caffeine intake that she has been up for quite a long time before deciding to wake you up.

You groggily roll over and face away from the wide open curtains, not ready to face the day yet and really disappointed in yourself for choosing to drive up so late last night in the first place.

Of course you were happy to be able to visit your best friend, the two of you going to different schools making it incredibly hard to spend much time together anymore. But being back here brought back so many memories of the last time you visited. Both good and bad. And to be honest, all you could think about was him. From the very moment Emma invited you, he has been on your mind nonstop.

The way he made you feel so utterly adored when he brought you back to his room, how he spoke to you so gently and quietly the one morning when you were hungover, the time he spilled and called you ‘his’ while you were in bed together, and how much it seemed like it would last forever. It was all coming back so strongly.

“So, what are the plans for the day Little Miss Sunshine?” you sit up, reluctantly speaking your first words of the day after clearing your throat.

“Well! First I thought we'd go get bagels for breakfast from down the street, and then I think one of us may need a quick shower before we officially start our day…” Emma says with a hand on the side of her mouth, pretending to be saying a secret as she is side-eyeing you, and you just stare at her offendedly, “Aaand we are doing something tonight so maybe we should go shopping..” she says quickly and excitedly, clearly brushing past what exactly it is that we are doing tonight.

“Alright then.” you say as you check your phone for probably the 20th time in the 10 minutes you've been awake. And you can see Emma staring at you from the corner of your eye so you decide to throw your phone to the other side of the bed, getting up and ready to go. You knew she wasn't oblivious, but you did not want to acknowledge the look she was giving you right now, and honestly it did not seem necessary to bring anything up.

Besides, this weekend isn't even about him. Dylan's surprise birthday party is tomorrow and your best friend was so excited to be planning it with your help. She hadn't done anything this extravagant for her boyfriend before and she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

Obviously the last thing you would want to do is ruin this weekend for her, and your stupid feelings and non-relationship are included in that.

The walk to the bagel shop seemed awkwardly long as you were both not acknowledging the fact that your mind is very very distracted. It wasn't intentional. But feelings and places have such strong connections and the fact that things felt so unresolved was not helping. Everywhere you are here reminds you of him.

“How's your bagel?” Emma speaks up, finally breaking the silence on your walk home, thankfully giving you an opportunity to get out of your thoughts.

“Oh it's good! Thanks! I was super hungry…” you say, trying to muster up a believable enough reason for why you've been so off today.

You continue walking and shuffling your feet in silence and are about to return back to the house before Emma looks at you and sighs loudly.

So. Close. You are literally about to step onto the driveway of the house when she stops you.

“Ok can we just talk about it please? Because there is no way we are going to get through this entire weekend just ignoring it.” she says, stepping in front of you and blocking any sort of way for you to get out of this conversation.

“What are you talking about?” you say with a grumble and a sigh. Knowing she is going to get it out of you. Obviously she would.

“Luke.” Emma says deadpan, waiting for your response.

For some reason at this moment you wanted to cry just hearing his name. But you also wanted to yell. Your feelings were confusing and annoying and it upset you to even have to talk about it with someone, even though you knew you should.

“I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I can't stop thinking about him, and everything is so confusing.” you whisper-yell at her in frustration.

It pained you to admit that you couldn't get him off your mind. You didn't realise how much you even liked him until having to admit that.

“He visited me during christmas… I mean, he did in the fall, but this time felt different.” You continue, “We slept together again. Everything felt like it was going so well…And now nothing.” you admit to her and wipe your face with your sleeves, angry at the tears that have fallen from your eyes.

“Has he called?” She asks warily.

“Once? Last week. It was short… but he sounded sad. He said he misses me. And he told me he really wanted to visit me. And I've texted him since then and no response.” you look down at your feet as you speak. It really shouldn't be this embarrassing to admit. It's not like you were in a relationship with him anyway.

“He's going to be here...tomorrow? I didn't know if you knew..” Emma says as she grabs your arm and slowly brings you close to her as you begin walking inside together and you nod your head in her direction.

You knew he would be here. Dylan is one of his best friends, obviously he isnt going to miss his 21st birthday. But with how things were currently going, it honestly made you wonder if Luke would even want you here. And what do his friends even know about you two? Has Luke said anything? So many questions are going through your head that it is almost making you dizzy.

The rest of the day is so much lighter after your earlier conversation. Emma is exponentially good at cheering people up, and maybe even to a fault, will always be on your side no matter what. But you appreciated it regardless.

You are currently finishing up putting on your makeup and getting ready to go out tonight, still very unaware of what the plan even is. But you didn't have much of a choice in the matter as Emma has picked out every aspect of your outfit tonight - down to the shoes, makeup, and jewellery.

Suddenly Emma gets a call from Dylan and runs into her bathroom to answer the phone, the music cutting out that was playing from her phone as she heads off, and silence filling the room.

You weren't intending to be eavesdropping, but you are able to hear muffled voices from the other side of the door and very hushed arguing that you couldn't quite make out. Making you curious as to what could possibly be going on tonight.

Emma saunters back into the room with hesitancy, her expression is scared and concerned at the same time as she is approaching you almost in slow-motion, saying nothing.

“What is it? Just spit it out.” you say, already knowing you are either about to hear the worst news of all time or the worst news of all time.

“Ok surprise! We're going out for sushi! Yay!” Emma says, obviously starting with the good news and you stay silent.

“And…Luke is coming out with us.” she continues, flinching at her own words as she plops herself on the bed across from you. You sit at her desk, makeup in hand, and cannot help but have an absolutely astonished look on your face.

Nothing is able to even leave your mouth as her words run through your mind again and again.

“I am so SO sorry.” She starts. “One of the guys accidentally told Dylan that Luke is in town and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for tomorrow, so I told Dylan that Luke and I were trying to surprise him tonight for dinner. I didn't know what else to say. It was literally the first thing that came to my mind. I'm so sorry.” she continues, worried she has done irreparable damage on your friendship.

“You can kill me now.” Emma blurts out defeatedly, wanting to keep the surprise for tomorrow and not wanting all her efforts to be ruined the day before the party.

Obviously you love that girl, but very much did want to kill her in this moment.

“Does Luke know I'm going to be there?” you ask, brushing past everything else she has said.

“Dylan said he would tell him, yeah, but if you don't want to come please don't feel like you have to.” she says with a small smile, hoping you have some-what forgiven her.

“No, I'll still come.” you say quietly but matter-of-factly.

If Luke knew you were coming, it would be weird if you decided to stay home now because of it, and besides, what would you do here alone? Thinking of what he would be doing and wishing you could read his mind is all you can think of.

“OH? This is good! Ok! Dylan said he is picking us up in 20 minutes!” Emma states, suddenly very excitedly, hoping it will cheer you up to see that she is excited. And as you continue getting ready, nervous energy and anticipation fill your body.

Dylan shows up right on time, unfortunately for you, not giving you any extra time to sit and wallow in your feelings.

It was inevitable that you would be seeing Luke this weekend, but this quickly and under these conditions was not exactly ideal. You were hoping to at least be able to have a one-on-one conversation with him before being thrown into random get togethers where things have no chance but to be awkward.

The drive to dinner is surprisingly happy. Dylan seems so excited to be seeing his best friend again. He can't stop talking about the last time they saw each other and how long it has been. And Emma's laughter and giddy energy is helping you calm down and distract you just a little bit.

“The reservation is for 7pm so we might have to wait in the car for a few minutes.” Emma says, checking her phone as Dylan pulls up to the restaurant a bit early.

The dim lighting and intimate booths look extremely inviting as you peer inside the windows of the restaurant from the parking lot. You can't help but get distracted by watching people inside as Emma and Dylan talk from the front seats of the car and are cutely chatting to each other quietly.

“There's my boy!” Dylan yells out as he jumps out of the driver's seat, running up to give Luke a hug across the parking lot.

“Ready?” Emma looks back and asks you, reassuringly placing her hand on your knee and rubbing her thumb up and down a few times.

“Guess so…” you say with a fake smile as you grab your purse from beside you, and as you are about to leave the car, you see a tall figure standing right outside your door.

Only a little bit startled, you look up to see Luke as he opens your door for you and greets you with a tired smile. He is dressed nicely in black pants and a cream cable knit sweater, his hair curly and tousled up like always.

As you step out of the car he brings you into a tight hug, like he just couldn't wait to hold you again.

“I missed you…” Luke whispers so quietly into your ear that you almost couldn't hear him. He swiftly leaves a gentle kiss to the side of your head as he brings his hands just a bit lower down your back, “I’m sorry” he says quietly as he releases you.

As much as you want to reciprocate, you are so caught off guard by his words that you just stare up at him without a word.

“Alright let's go! I'm so hungry!” Dylan says, unaware of the tension, as he pats Luke's back and wraps an arm around him, walking in front of you and Emma and into the restaurant.

Emma is glancing at you as you walk together, waiting to hear from you what Luke said, but you decide to ignore it with a shrug and she looks away.

Dinner is filled with laughter and catching up with one another. Surprisingly it wasn't even half as awkward as you built it up to be. Dylan chatting away with Luke as you and Emma giggle across from each other about all the drama at your respective schools.

Having a couple of drinks throughout the night was definitely helping, but regardless of that, you felt good. Really good.

“Luke, how's the love life going for you? You got a girl in Jersey?” Dylan asks with a laugh as Emma had just bragged about her and Dylan going on 2 years of being together.

She shoots you a regretful look as she hits Dylan's side with her elbow, not as discreetly as she probably wanted to, and your face turns bright red.

Luke looks down at his lap and shakes his head with a chuckle, seemingly avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.

“No man, no girl in jersey.” Luke says lightly as he takes a drink of his beer before the two of you make eye contact and he glances down to your fidgety hands that are in your lap.

“My bad, my bad…” Dylan says with a laugh as he clears his throat and starts back to finishing the food on his plate, Emma quietly shushing her clueless boyfriend beside her.

Your nervous hands continue to pick at your cuticles and you look over to see Luke inching his hand closer beside yours on the booth bench. Looking up from your lap, you see him glancing back at you as he waits for your reaction before discreetly taking your hand in his under the table.

The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting and familiar and immediately eases your anxiousness. But you still feel so conflicted.

Luke always knew how to comfort you and distract you from your thoughts when they were out of control. Especially during busy school semesters and many nights spent together with him keeping you company while you anxiously wrote papers and prepped for exams.

He seemed to be there for you when it felt like you had no one else. At least that's how it used to feel. Now things feel so complicated. Not knowing the status of your relationship surprisingly taking a much larger toll on your ability to act like friends than you would have ever thought.

“So! I've got the bill tonight guys. Happy birthday Dyl!” Emma blurts out as the waiter approaches the table, she leans over to give her boyfriend a loving kiss, comfortably filling the awkward silence that had just taken over the table not long before.

“Thank you baby! And hey! thanks guys for coming out tonight too.” Dylan smiles at the both of you as he lifts up his glass for a toast. You all clink your glasses, wishing him happy birthdays that follow big swigs of your almost empty alcoholic beverages.

Walking out of the restaurant, your mind fills with running thoughts. You wish you had spoken to Luke more tonight but it was hard to not make anything obvious. He seemed good, but still weirdly sad and you wanted to talk to him about it so badly. You wanted to talk to him about everything.

As you near Dylan's car you feel Luke's hand brush against yours and lightly hold your wrist, turning you around to face him.

“Can I take you home?” Luke shyly asks you as you all stand in the parking lot together. You mutter a “sure” under your breath with a nod, and he looks to Dylan and Emma for confirmation, both of them nodding in agreement before bringing you into tight hugs and saying goodbyes.

“Tell me everything that happens girly.” Emma runs back over to you and whispers into your ear as she hugs you goodbye once more, and all you can do is let out a small laugh in response to her teenage-esque behaviour.

After Dylan and Emma drive away, the short walk over to Luke’s car suddenly seems agonisingly long and your heart is racing in anticipation. Over anything else that happens tonight, you really wanted clarity. But of course, thoughts of the worst possible outcome ever sneak their way into your mind.

Luke opens the passenger side door for you and you climb into his car before he gently closes the door and walks to the other side. As he gets in, he begins to start the car before he looks over to you and pauses, the quiet becoming almost painful.

You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to say the wrong thing. So, waiting for him to break the silence seemed to be your best bet.

“I know I should have thought of something to say…” He starts, and shuffles in his seat, slightly bending his right leg so he is facing you a little more.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped responding to you.” Luke continues, and you almost want to roll your eyes at his apology. It was so hard to be understanding when this felt like such a preventable situation on his part.

But you knew Luke. You knew when he was scared he got distant. You knew he was pulling back from you. You just didnt know why.

“Things have been so…weird…lately, and I just…I know I fucked up.” He confesses.

You didn't want to be reading between the lines anymore. You just wanted him to be honest with you about what he wants, and it frustrated you that he was being so vague.

“Luke, what do you want? Like, from me?” you ask innocently, but squint your eyes closed tightly as the words coming out of your mouth sound completely different from what you intended.

“Like, you told me we were friends. And obviously I was ok with that. But when you would visit me, we’d sleep together. And when you left it was like. I don't know…” you look down and pick at your fingers as you speak, looking up at him feeling like an almost impossible task.

“You told me you wanted to be friends.” Luke states, and gently grabs your hand. He holds it in his to stop you from destroying your fingers as you speak, which causes you to look up at him, thanking him silently, as he waits on your response.

“I said that because I knew how hard it would be for us to be so far away from each other.” you say strongly, feeling the sudden need to defend yourself.

“You know how important school is to me, and I know how important your career is to you. I don't want to distract you from what's important to you. I don't want to be the one that gets in the way of things, or be the reason why you're not as focused as you could be…as much as I want to be-” you begin to confess, but are quickly cut off.

“It's kinda too late for that…” Luke says with a chuckle as he tilts his head back against the headrest of his seat and looks out the front window, frustration still evidently seen on his face.

“What do you mean??” you ask, hoping he will elaborate a little more than he has been so far.

“You already distract me. I can't stop thinking about you. And it's obvious. In my game and everything too. Even Jack has noticed and he keeps asking me about you and I don't even know what to say. I can't shut him up. Cuz how am I supposed to tell him how I feel when I can't even tell you? Its actually really fuckin annoying.” he laughs as he explains, still looking ahead out the window instead of at you.

Luke has always sought to use humour and jokes in difficult situations, especially when it comes to his own feelings. He's clearly frustrated at himself and it hurts you to see him having such a hard time expressing himself.

“So why have you been so distant lately?! I’ve been really worried about you.” you say, suddenly feeling more confident in confronting him as he opens up to you.

“Cuz im scared im gonna fuck things up even more than I already have…” he says honestly as he turns his head to look at you again.

“I knew I should've said something from the moment we slept together the first time. I feel like I fucked up by keeping my mouth shut. It's been ruining my life to not just be honest with you.” he adds with a growl deep in his voice, anger at himself seeping through his words.

As he continues, you can't help but feel entranced by him in his current state, and suddenly you are very aware of how late at night it is becoming.

“It's my fault...” Luke says, and you desperately try to focus on his words and not his body.

But you can't help but think about how good his hands would feel on your body and how badly you want him to kiss you right here and now. You didn't care that you were still in the parking lot of a sushi restaurant. You didn't care that things were still so confusing and that this probably wasn't exactly the most ideal time to be feeling this way. You just felt like you needed him so badly.

“I've been treating you like shit lately. Regardless of us sleeping together, that should not change how I treat you. I've been a shitty friend to you, and I'm really really sorry.” he continues, and you are brought out of your trance.

His words hit you so hard. You both unknowingly made this relationship so complicated and weren't even aware of it. You knew Luke was not perfect, but for some reason you expected him to be able to read your mind, and vice versa. Even after being the one to say you should stay friends, you were silently upset that nothing was happening in the way you wanted.

“Luke, it's ok. Both of us have not been entirely honest with each other lately and it's made everything so… fucked up. We’re just… in a weird spot.” you say, hoping your words make any sense considering you zoned out for half of his apology.

“Can I just say that I want to be able to fix this?” Luke says as he places his hand on your thigh, his fingers mindlessly getting higher and higher as he rubs slowly back and forth. Trying his best to soothe you and unknowingly turning you on even more.

“It isn't just on you to fix.” you say as you place your hand softly over his, stopping his movement on your leg as to not let it overly distract you.

“Yes it is. I let you down. I fucked up by being so fucking…distant. I should've been more clear about what I want…that I want you..” Luke admits, giving into what he has wanted to say from the moment you got into the car together.

His eyes are fixed on yours and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Hearing him so confidently confess how he is feeling after so long is such a relief. It makes you want to just tell him you love him right here and now.

“I know things are complicated…but, I really don't want to not have you in my life…” Luke adds as tears begin to well in his eyes, catching you both off guard.

“Oh Lukey.” you whisper as you hold his face in your hands, your heart melting at the sight of him.

Luke places his hands on your wrists, pulling them away from his face as he finally leans into you.

His lips hit yours with an intensity that you have never felt before from him. His hands move away from yours, and to the base of your neck, gently pulling you closer into him as he deepens the kiss.

Your eyes are glued shut as you are entranced by his lips finally being connected with yours as his tongue dances around in your mouth.

Needing to have your hands on him, you reach up to brush his face with your thumbs and then begin gently tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, causing him to lustfully groan deep into your mouth. Your mind is filled with excitement and intensity as the moment grows in mutual desire.

“I needed you baby.” You say rushedly, disconnecting with him for only a moment.

Luke smiles against your lips as you connect again, and he places his left hand on your hip, massaging his fingers into your side. You lift yourself lightly onto the centre-console, desperate to be as close to him as you can get, and he lowers his hand just below your ass to help support you.

Although being in the close quarters of Luke's car while having such a monumental conversation about your relationship was not quite ideal, you were so thankful for it at this moment.

“I needed you too.” Luke says after coming up for air, and you just stare at him with a dizzy smile, your head reeling with arousal.

He pecks your lips a few times before lowering his head to your collarbone, gently kissing your neck and leaving red marks where he most definitely has before.

Your giggles fill the car as he continues expeditiously exploring your body, wanting to savour every moment of your presence and relishing in the way he is pleasing you.

Luke looks up at you with a smile before his eyebrows furrow and he is distracted by something behind you, causing you to whip your head around to look out your window, immensely alarmed at his expression.

Luke lightly lets go of you, allowing you to sit properly in your seat and as your eyes focus on the window, the sight of a kind-looking restaurant hostess tapping on the glass outside of your door almost sends you reeling into a panic.

Luke quickly reassures you with a laugh, placing his hand on your arm and starting the car before beginning to roll your window down for them to speak.

“I am so sorry if I startled you, but our restaurant has closed, which means we can no longer allow you to park here, as free parking ends at midnight.” the hostess explains politely while pointing to the sign posted on the brick wall just in front of Luke's car.

“Thanks Ma’am. We’re so s-sorry.” Luke pauses to hide his face, clearly hiding that he is about to break into laughter.

“We’ll leave right aw-” Luke laughs out, hardly able to finish his sentence before being sent into a fit of silent laughter.

“We’re so sorry. Have a good night!” you say more seriously, trying to make up for the completely unserious boy beside you.

“Goodnight guys!” the hostess says as she walks away, leaving you completely embarrassed and also scared half to death.

Luke continues dying of laughter and is hunched over the steering wheel as you punch his arm repeatedly to get his attention.

“That was awful! Why are you laughing so hard!” you say unimpressed, but still unable to hold back laughter of your own after seeing him look up at you with tears in his eyes.

“Fuck. I can't get over your face.” Luke says as he begins to come down a little, wiping the tears from his eyes. You just shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, not taking any chances of having to be asked to leave once more.

“Fuck.” he says once more with a sigh, relaxing in his seat and looking over to you with a genuine smile before patting your thigh reassuringly.

You look to Luke expectantly and he stares back at you with a smirk before kissing your lips passionately, catching you off guard.

Your hands are drawn to his face as he nudges your chin with his, causing you to lean into him even further before he pulls away from you abruptly.

“Can I take you home?” Luke asks with lust in eyes as he brushes his thumb across your cheek, admiring every single feature on your face. His words having a different meaning to both of you than they have previously tonight.

“For real this time?? Because you know we cant sit in this parking lot any longer…” you say jokingly as Luke rolls his eyes at you and begins to put his seatbelt on.

“Yes, for real this time.” He retorts. His right hand eagerly finding yours as he interlocks your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss before finally driving off.

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