#and i swear i have NEVER had one that's as rambunctious as she is

[theygender]

I wish cats were like dogs where you could take them to a cat park or kitty daycare or on a playdate and let them run around with other hyper energetic kittens for several hours and then you bring them back home and they're so played out that they're just chill the rest of the day. Astrid is in her preteen phase now and she has the most violent destructive zoomies of any cat I've ever seen. Our older male cat can't keep up with her when she really wants to play and neither can we. I just played with her until she flopped from exhaustion TWICE a few hours ago and she's already jetting around at near light speed knocking shit off every horizontal surface and doing kickflips off of us with her claws out again

[star2fishmeg]

ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴ' ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ

[29.8k] Pairing | Luke Hughes x afab!reader Summary | if y/n knew how their friendship would play out, she would’ve never spoken to Luke in the first place. Now she finds herself in a game of cat and mouse except she’s ready to surrender. But he’s not. Warnings | 18+ smut, angst, childhood friends to lovers, swearing, underage drinking, dry humping, choking, making out, praise kink, size kink, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), very creepy behaviour towards y/n, protected sex Authors Note | slow burning again. Covid also never happened. This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes ♫ love lost - mac miller [small worlds masterlist]

The house next door to the L/n’s had been vacant for six years after they moved to the lake until the Hughes’ moved in with their three boys. To say the l/ns were relieved to have neighbours finally would be a significant understatement, they were running straight to the Hughes’ front door with offerings of freshly baked cookies and a two-year-old y/n tucked in their arms. It started a beautiful friendship between families, but temperamental summers when the Hughes’ would return to the lake. 

When y/n and Luke first met, they had been no older than a couple of five-year-olds with faces slathered in sun cream and the highest peak of curiosity in the world. She and her father had been seconds away from taking their boat out onto the lake, a bow-seated bowrider that most of the lake's inhabitants owned, but to the Hughes boys next door, it was the coolest thing they’d seen. Before they knew it, Jim was dragged across the docks by Jack, Quinn keeping up with Luke behind them. Y/n’s dad stood up, placing his hands on his hips in a typical dad manner, chuckling while y/n snapped her head around to face the docks. 

“Apologies about him,” Jim smiled, referring to his middle son’s enthusiasm. Quinn and Luke stayed tucked into Jim’s sides, “He’s got far too much energy.”

“He’s all right, anything I can do for you?” her dad asked. Y/n’s eyes jumped between all three boys, she knew they’d lived next door during the summer for years, but she’d never really spoken to them, Quinn was nine, and that was scary enough, not that he looked scary with his brown hair sticking out from under his cap and gentle eyes. Jack was a dirty-blond, eight-year-old ball of energy with a constant smile on his face, she heard him in his garden all the time. Luke was the shyest, but he had the cheesiest grin out of them all. 

“Ellen and I are about to head off to view a boat, actually. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to take the boys out with you? I’m hoping it’ll get them used to the waters.”

Y/n perked up, looking back at her dad and then back at the boys buzzing on their toes, eyes glowing under the sun, and she held her tiny hand out towards Luke, “Yeah! Come, come!” 

It was safe to say that after a full day of exploring the lake, listening to the boys talk about hockey, reminding them to sit still, her father had never been more grateful to only have two children, one being a daughter who seemed to love bossing Jack (specifically) around. 

*

That was how the two families managed to occupy the children as rambunctious kids. Shuffling them between each other, introducing various activities from each other's lives just to cure their boredom and get them befriended. The boat trip had been such a success that Jack had insisted they teach y/n mini sticks, her brother was only two and still far more interested in what toys he could chew on. So, they did just that, Quinn gently teaching the rules and watching over the younger ones, especially when Jack got really into it. But it was Luke who’d stick to her like glue, choosing her as his teammate every time, whacking his brothers if they hurt y/n (which they giggled about, planning to bring it up later).  

Another day when the weather was particularly calm, Ellen and Mr. L/n took the children paddleboarding, Jack and Quinn picking it up rather quickly, able to stand on their feet when both used the board together. That didn’t last long when Jack supposedly elbowed Quinn in the back, resulting in the eldest Hughes shoving Jack into the water, which then meant the board capsized and both boys became drenched. Y/n and Luke giggled, opting to sit on their board cross-legged and facing each other, talking about their favourite TV shows and school stories. Ellen thought it was a sweet sight, her little Luke warming up to someone, having a refuge from Toronto, someone of his own so he wouldn’t be confined to his brothers all the time. Not that that was a bad thing, but the other two boys had people at the lake they knew, their own friends and he seemed to adore her, just as she adored him the same. 

*

Every year the nearby town held a carnival that featured rides, food stalls, almost impossible games and the public’s favourite, the firework display. The one night a summer when everyone seemed to spring to life, families, couples, and friends, all came together for the memories. Strings of fairy lights hanging around the walkways, colourful, flashing stalls and rides with music drowning out under the crowd’s chatter and the floods of people making it too easy to get lost in. It was one night Luke in particular would never forget, fear shook him to his core seeing how busy the walkways were, and how big the world was and he concluded that if he was scared, y/n must’ve been too.

Both families attended together with a chain of their children clinging to them, weaving in and out of people just to reach a good spot for the fireworks. Quinn hated it the most, somehow, he had been roped into getting Jack through (who made it his goal to play every game possible), clutching his wrist while Jack complained about his grip and that he was pulling him too fast. Ellen guided Luke through, and Luke’s hand held y/n’s in a vice grip, as tight as he could for a child. He couldn’t look at her though, his cheeks burned pink the whole time and he concentrated too hard on getting away from the crowd, y/n with him. He thought he’d cry if he lost her. 

It was then that Luke experienced butterflies for the first time. The moment they reached the fireworks spot, both families huddled together, ear defenders ready in case they got frightened by popping and squealing. But not Luke and y/n, the only thing clutched in their hands were each other. The comfort of another was all it took to rid the fear, children don’t seem to mind if their hands are clammy, they held each other's hand as the fireworks lit up the sky in beautiful shades of reds, oranges, yellows in bouquets and whistles to willows and cackles, the first display they’d remember and have reflect in their beady eyes of awe. He squeezed her hand, turning his head to search for any fear in her face but she gazed back at him, lips grinning as his blond curls bounced in the breeze. They never let go, even when they didn’t need to hold each other anymore.

*

Crickets chirped throughout her garden, fairy lights running along the fence illuminating ever so slightly in the dark. No chatter from the docks, lights in the house absent and the time hitting midnight on the dot when young voices, terrible at whispering broke through the silence. 

“Luke, move over!” she kicked his leg, attempting to roll away from the box of board games next to her.

“I can’t, the wall is there!” Luke protested, rolling into y/n, trying to shove her back to her side. 

Group sleepovers are the pinnacle of good times but also the cause of a war. Y/n had a treehouse in her garden before she was born, her dad had built it after having fond memories from his childhood when he had one. Her mother suggested she invite the Hughes boys over one night since they weren’t far, and the treehouse had board games and cushions in there anyway, all they needed were sleeping bags and roll mats and they were set and wouldn’t be disturbed, as long as they closed the door. 

It wasn’t large, a squeeze, in fact, the four top-to-tailing (Luke and y/n together in the smaller section, Quinn and Jack in the larger where there wasn’t a big box) but it was cosy and as long as Jack kept his arms and legs in his sleeping bag, everyone would be happy. Except he didn’t. Just before they were about to fall asleep, Quinn was awoken by a Skittle bouncing off his head and rattling against the wood. He ignored it until another hit him. Then a Skittle hit Jack, who threw one at y/n and Jack failed to stifle his giggles until someone smacked him with a pillow. Y/n grinned, watching the boy pout but grab his own and hit Quinn, whose eyebrows couldn’t have knitted any further into his forehead as he, with a stronger momentum, swung around and whacked Jack clean around the face. 

“Oh Lu~” she chimed, watching him shield himself with his own pillow. She hit him but softer than she’d hit Jack and the four fell into a pattern of giggles and pillow swinging, burning all that pent-up energy children had. It was moments like those that brought the fondest memories to people, the ones that stuck with people forever and no matter how much time passes, the memory stays in the very place where it all happened. Always. People never forget things that made them laugh until their stomachs ached, even if they did get scolded in the morning for going to sleep too late or being too noisy. The memory never fades. Everything always stays.

When Luke was eleven, his family moved officially to Michigan, on the opposite side of the lake. The town separated them, albeit not far, he still wished he could live next to her all the time, but that would’ve taken the magic out of the vacation home. She was still the girl next door but now they’d get to see each other every day instead of once a year, he could invite her over to his, hang out on the weekends, after school, and visit all the places she used to talk about. He could see his best friend all the time.

Y/n hadn’t known about the Hughes’ move. Of course, her parents told her they were moving out of Toronto but where to be a guessing game. Out of all places, it was at school she discovered they’d moved to Michigan when the locker next to hers had been given a new lock. She closed her locker door and turned to take her leave for class until she came face to face with Luke Hughes and his bright blond curls, standing next to her just as awestruck as she was. They broke into smiles, arms thrown around shoulders and faces buried into necks, hugging until the final warning bell rang.

If you had asked Luke at the time if he liked y/n, he would’ve rejected the idea profusely out of embarrassment, but even years on, he still attached himself to her at the hip. He didn’t know what love felt like, or what a crush felt like at that age, but he did know that he always felt this warm sensation in his chest when he was around her, like flowers blooming and he couldn’t help but smile and tune the rest of the world out when she spoke. He’d always ask her for homework help, even if he knew the answers, he just wanted to hear her talk. If her friends received compliments and gifts from other boys, he’d provide her with them. When she didn’t have a partner, she’d find him. When she cried, she cried into him, when he’d lose his temper, she was his serenity. 

He remembered the first time she bawled her eyes out to him, clear as day and the first time he’d seen her vulnerable. He had been flustered through and through, never having a girl throw herself into him and nuzzle into his neck the way she did, tears soaking his hoodie’s collar and arms winding around his torso tight. He rubbed her back timidly, copying what his dad did when his mum was upset and let her cry at their lockers, the hallway scarce of anyone else but her muffled sobs and his hammering heartbeat. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, his stomach sinking.

Y/n sniffed, turning her head and pressing her ear to his shoulder, avoiding his gaze, “It’s stupid.”

“Well, it’s not if you’re crying.” 

“Basically, Mark C had this list that ranked most pretty to least pretty out of me and my friends and he and his friends put me at the bottom and it’s stupid because it doesn’t do anything but then he said that ‘there’s always an ugly one’. Jenny found it and tore it up.” She babbled, tears soaking his hoodie, but he didn’t mind. He just held her tighter, stroking her back until she’d cried herself dry.

“He’s such a jerk, I think you’re the prettiest, so he was wrong anyway.” Luke, fuelled by a bitter taste in his mouth, hadn’t thought through what he had said or the weight of it and spoke from his mind. Hearing that a boy thought she was pretty and openly admitted it without shame or fear exiled any sort of misery from her. Somehow, and she didn’t understand why at that age, it meant everything that it came from Luke. Luke who’d grown up with her and seen her worst moments already (like horrifically sunburnt). 

She squeezed him. He wasn’t the kind of guy to throw around compliments or comments, he was a thinker, just like his oldest brother.

“Do you wanna come over? We can watch movies and I’m sure we can drop you home.” He asked, his voice soft. She pulled back, hands fisting his hoodie, eyes sore and puffy and Luke felt his heart shatter at the sight of her sadness. She nodded eagerly, failing to contain the smile that crept onto her lips. She couldn’t help it, Luke just did that, and had that effect on her.

It was just a movie to make y/n feel better, but Luke being the youngest of three meant he fell victim to relentless teasing from his brothers the moment he got home. With bags dumped in the hallway, he and y/n made it to the large living room that opened into the dining room on the right-hand side which overlooked sliding doors into the garden, a breakfast bar dividing the kitchen and dining. Jack’s eyes lit up, first, engulfing her into a bear hug and then wiggling his eyebrows at Luke. Quinn simply ruffled both their hair and took his seat on one of the sofas, engrossed in his phone. 

“Woah, look at Lukey bringing a girl home, we only got here a week ago an-” Jack started announcing but Ellen soon ushered him quietly, guiding Luke and y/n into the living room. She apologised for the mess, they had only recently moved in and there was still a lot of decorating to complete. The basics were down, sofas, TV above the fireplace, and dining table in the dining room but the place lacked photos and other miscellaneous decor for now. 

“What do you wanna watch, Lu?” she curled up on the sofa, tucking herself into the armrest. Luke sat next to her, an awkward distance between them.

“You choose, I would pick Harry Potter, obviously.” He slumped into the backrest so his feet could reach the coffee table, just about.

“Harry Potter’s good, put that on.” Luke did, loading up Netflix and hitting play. He wanted to do something, cut the awkward air between the two of them but she seemed happy curled up in the corner, but he imagined her cuddled into him instead. Y/n burned to lean into Luke, bathe in his embrace again, the warmth of sitting close to someone and perhaps she would have if Quinn left the room. It wasn’t like he was paying attention to them, so she readjusted and shuffled closer to Luke, butterflies flittering in her stomach as she closed that awkward gap between the two of them. Luke glanced over to Quinn, but quickly turned back to her and sat up straight, turning his body into hers in return and putting his attention back onto the film. 

They hadn’t made it halfway through the film when they fell asleep, Quinn too. Y/n’s head lay on Luke’s shoulder, his head leaning on hers. It was tough work surviving a day of school, clearly, but at least they were comfortable. The whole house fell into a silence, if a pin were to drop, the rattling against the floor would echo. When Jack emerged from his room, he genuinely thought he’d been home alone the whole time and crept down the stairs, flinching when he accidentally kicked a hockey glove to the bottom. He hung a left into the living room, catching sight of Quinn knocked out with his hood pulled over his head and Luke and y/n cuddled together, Harry Potter still playing on the TV. He could have woken Quinn, he could have woken Luke and teased him red, but he fumbled in his pocket for his phone, snapped a photo of his little brother and scooted around the house to find Ellen as if he had a rare treasure to show her. Sometimes siblings aren’t all that bad. 

*

The summer of twenty-fifteen worked slightly differently than either family were used to. The l/n’s were used to having an eleven-year-old and an eight-year-old, with the additional two teenagers and Luke next door but now Jack was allowed to bring his friends Trevor and Cole. That was four teenagers, two pre-teens and a child, the Hughes’ now with two cars on their drive and double the noise level. Jack’s friends weren’t trouble, though. Trevor was like Jack, loud and full of spirit while Cole was on the quieter side, yet still as adventurous as the other two. When Jim had told the l/n’s the situation, y/n’s parent's souls were sucked straight from their bodies, how were they supposed to entertain that many kids? 

One tradition that hadn’t changed was the carnival. That still stayed but the world wasn’t so big to them anymore. The fairy lights stayed, the food and game stalls were still the same, the rides had been refurbished and chatter still muffled the music. They had the strength to move through the crowds on their own now, recognise each other amongst the people and knew exactly where their meeting point was. Quinn was relieved he didn’t have to babysit Jack anymore, he met up with his friend Brady before the firework display. Jack, Trevor and Cole played every game they could afford with brotherly competitiveness raging through them and Luke still held her hand above it all. Weaving through bodies, hand clasped in his, she followed him with every ounce of trust she had, feeling a spark surge between them and watching his ears tint pink when she squeezed. When they’d arrived at the spot, the parents were already huddled together, Jack and his musketeers arriving shortly after with various prizes hanging around their necks and stuffed under their arms and Quinn arrived last. They weren’t huddled as close as they all had been in previous years, the little groups seeming to form their own huddles and Luke and y/n were included in that pattern, standing slightly to the side, almost in their own world. 

Spinners of blues, glitters of whites and brocades of purples painted the inky sky in tune with the song that played in the background, following every beat almost perfectly. Their hands became warm in each other's hold, almost too warm but letting go would’ve felt wrong and awkward, especially since the electric feeling felt too good. Maybe they were too old to be holding hands now, there wasn’t much of a point anymore but perhaps they felt like it was all they had left of the innocence of childhood before school got harder, friendships got messier and before everyone started changing. Luke peered over at her, smitten by the way the fireworks always brought a smile to her face. She had such a lovely smile, the kind where her eyes crinkled in the corners, and she was confident about showing teeth. A burst of adrenaline shot through him, and images of couples he’d seen around flashed through his mind and maybe he would regret it, maybe he would burn hotter than his sunburn but at least he could say he tried. 

With a hitched breath, Luke placed a sweet, quick kiss on her cheek before turning back to the sky above as if he’d done nothing at all. Her eyes widened and her head whipped around to look at him, confirming as if she hadn’t been dreaming and the way he smiled victoriously gave her every answer to her questions. 

“Luke!” he flinched at his name, eyes wide, his worst fear hitting him like a brick; did someone see that? Was he about to be yelled at for kissing a girl’s cheek? Is Jack or Quinn going to chirp him for the rest of his life about it? He sheepishly turned towards his family, only to have relief wash over him when it was just Ellen calling him and y/n over. 

“I want a photo of you and your brothers,” Ellen called, and he and y/n shuffled over, hearts thumping in their chests with cheeky smiles that kept a secret only they would ever know. 

Quinn, Jack and Luke stood together, Luke in the middle wearing his University of Michigan fleece (which he wasn’t sure who it actually belonged to), Quinn on one side, hands tucked into the sleeves of his grey hoodie and Jack on the other, who, for reasons unknown, decided to don an all-burgundy jacket and beanie in the middle of summer. Neither of the boys smiled, more so due to being forced into a photo with everyone else watching and giggling at them but unknown to them at the time, that photo would be hung up on their staircase and be one of the favourites. 

*

The problem with growing up is that the big world starts to become smaller and more enclosed. You learn and feel new things that you never thought existed. Unfortunately, the group found out the hard way that things change. The ladder on y/n’s treehouse had rotted over the winter, but her father replaced it with a staircase instead, for ease but she thought it looked cooler that way. It also made getting the mugs of hot chocolate into the treehouse easier than it would have been. But because everyone had grown, and they’d gained two extra bodies, it meant the inside was even more of a squeeze than before, even after replacing the large box of board games with a small cabinet instead. Top-to-tailing once again, Jack, Cole and Trevor on one end with Quinn, Luke and y/n on the other, but this time Jack was kept awake by Trevor’s snoring. He should have expected it really, it was usually him keeping everyone up with his antics, but he loathed how everyone else managed to fall asleep but him, but he hated more that if he dared wake anyone, he’d be sleeping outside. 

He couldn’t blame everyone for being out cold, they’d spent the afternoon making friendship bracelets, Luke and y/n giving each other matching blue ones that he just knew would become the most prized possessions with the way their eyes lit up. Jack may have been loud and chatty, but he observed his brothers intensely and learned vicariously and what he figured out was that his little brother was utterly obsessed with this girl he desperately tried sitting closer and closer to. Luke even blew on her hot chocolate, the way Quinn used to do for him. To think that an eleven-year-old made bolder moves than he did. Quinn had told him to lay off Luke, let him be enamoured and that it was sweet to watch him break out of his comfort zone. Of course, the eldest knew exactly what it was like to feel so tucked away in your shell all the time, so if anyone was rooting for Luke and y/n, it was Quinn. 

The air around her slowly warmed, her shivering stopping and a hot breath fanning across her pillow. Opening her eyes a crack, Luke’s curls fell in front of his eyes, sleeping bag zipped to his lips and he shuffled closer to her. If this was his way of cuddling, she accepted it immediately, shuffling closer until foreheads almost touched.

“Goodnight, y/n.” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Lu.”

*

Jack vaulted over the sofa, clutching the diary to his chest and manically laughing as Luke chased him desperately, with sheer panic in his eyes and a face redder than Cole’s sunburn. Luke had never felt so hot in his life, never wanted the ground to swallow him up more. He wished he’d never let Jack in his room, he wished he’d been more careful and tidied his room when he was asked because everything from that point further could have been prevented. 

“C’mon Jack! Give it back!” Luke whined, lunging at his brother, who dodged him. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought it too!”

“It doesn’t matter if I’ve thought it, you wrote it down!” Jack teased, opening the diary above his head to read more of the paragraphs. More of Luke’s deepest secrets. “I think y/n’s the prettiest girl in my grade and even the world, I like her smile a lot and she makes me feel all tingly when she laughs.” 

“Shut up! Muuuum!” 

Jack eventually handed the diary back, his laughing taunting Luke as this was now something that would hang over him for the rest of his life, be brought up every summer until the end of time and he begged the universes and any deity out there that Jack didn’t spill the secret. He was awful at keeping secrets. He and y/n were best friends. She didn’t even feel the same anyway, or at least he thought but, if he was lucky, perhaps took the risk, even just once, it could work out. What was the worst that could happen?

“Lukey and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Jack sang, eventually ending the tune with kissing noises as Luke's face grew redder and redder. If he could hit him with no consequences, he would’ve hit him hundreds of times, he wished he was big enough to cross-check him hard next time they were on ice. 

“Shut up!” Luke yelled and shoved him, but Jack repeated the song, “Mum! Tell him to stop!” 

“Your face is so red! You do think she's pretty! Wait ‘til the other’s hear this!” 

“Jack, stoooop!”

Jack grinned like a menace, running away through the sliding doors and through the yard towards the dock, “QUINN! Luke has a crush on y/n!”

To Jack, it was harmless, brotherly teasing. They’d make up, move on and forget about it. They couldn’t do anything anyway, Jim and Ellen would scold him (or Quinn) for messing with Luke if they continued, and y/n would find out and everything would be ruined. So, it became a Hughes secret, and everyone would let Luke pine himself to death and decide if he wanted to make a move or not. And Luke’s nerves exploded. His mind raced and emotions tangled into a knot. He was still a growing boy, he didn’t know anything, and he was just about to begin middle school and after that high school where y/n would likely and undoubtedly make new friends, like other boys and he’d fade into the distance as nothing but the boy next door. If anyone were to have their heart broken it would be him, and he’d do everything to ensure that never happened.

When you start high school as a freshman, you don this mentality that you’re a lot older than you are. Perhaps it’s because you’re in a larger school with kids a year to four years older than you are, you’re all mature now. You dress better, follow trends, are influenced by the people around you and the media, and develop into your own person and your classes are more challenging. Yet, there are twice as many people, twice as many judging eyes, people you know and others you’ve never seen before. People openly tell you your flaws, force you into a shell and all the rumours brainwash the consensus and nobody knows what’s real and what’s not, if there’s a correct way to wear something, enjoy something, who was in your league and who was far out. 

But it was also a clean slate for most. When Luke and y/n started high school, their friendships hadn’t merged like they used to. Luke found his crowd, like-minded boys who enjoyed sports and finding ways to cure teenage boredom and y/n found hers, a mix of different personalities that found common interests out of the blue. The differing schedules and groups pulled them apart more than they had liked, only sharing two classes in the end and Luke despised whoever made their timetables. She’d pout when they compared schedules, a violent urge to cry knowing she wouldn’t see his smile and curly hair every day, wouldn’t be able to find him easily for a hug when she needed it, and wouldn't have him by her side anymore. When she’d looked back up at him, with glossy eyes, his stomach dropped, and he knew exactly how she felt. He opened his arms and let her bury her face into his chest, arms winding around her, and they both mourned the loss of being two peas in a pod as dramatically as angsty teenagers would.

He did his best to see her at her locker, leaving cute little notes through the vents with hearts doodled under the message. He smiled and talked to her in the halls, they hung out after school when they could, he glared at anyone who dared talk shit about her and they hugged whenever one had a bad day, Luke hanging on longer, always. But as he’d feared, she had shown interest in other boys like his efforts had been wasted, and other boys had reciprocated but for some reason when they left cute notes, it was romantic, not that led to anything. But seeing the real world lit the fire under him, he needed to be a go-getter now, do something.

*

Nothing sucked at the lake though. There was no competition at the lake, no interruptions and he had the whole summer to make a singular move, or at least drop a hint. That was his one goal, drop y/n a hint that he liked her. She was a smart girl; she’d catch on but if she accepted it was an entirely different anxiety. He’d watched Jack make moves on girls before, it wasn’t that hard, surely. All you had to do was just go for it. And he would if his nerves didn’t eat him alive like vultures. This was his best friend he liked; he’d cry like a baby if she rejected him but hate himself for ruining something precious more. 

Michigan could get hot during the summer, a blazing hot sometimes where the UV was high enough that thirty minutes outside, you’d feel that burning sensation along your skin. All those years ago, Jim and Ellen had bought that boat they viewed, it had sat identically to the l/n’s on the dock until Quinn had been old enough to drive it himself and take his brothers and friends out on the lake. Well, it was more like Jack’s friends as, for another year, Trevor and Cole had tagged along for their lake house getaway.

Luke had no problem with Trevor and Cole and quite liked them as people. So did y/n, maybe a bit more than the youngest Hughes liked. Y/n sat opposite them and Jack on the boat, donning her new bikini and sunglasses she begged her parents for since she wasn’t a kid anymore. Thank the heavens for those sunglasses, if either of the two had caught her staring at them, she may have just jumped overboard because they looked divine. Trevor with his flowing hair, always perfect no matter what direction the wind blew and tanned skin that glowed in the sun, immaculate humour that made anyone laugh. Cole who was the embodiment of the sun and so soft-spoken, shoulders broad with inviting arms. The boys in her grade weren’t like them, hadn’t grown into their features yet, and still had awful haircuts but not Trevor and Cole. They worked out, proudly sitting shirtless and flashing their six-packs off to the poor, fumbling girl in front of them. Her friends would have killed to be there, these guys were so much hotter than the ones she knew, but also so far out of reach that all she could do was admire them. 

Jack elbowed Trevor, subtly gesturing over to a zoned-out y/n with a playful smirk on his face. Catching onto his hint, he tensed just to watch y/n look away, attempting to play it off. The older boys chuckled, Luke sending a stabbing glare towards Jack. She’d been caught, been too sloppy and now they knew she was staring. How embarrassing. Luke shuffled closer to her, thighs pressing together as he slung his arm over the back of her seat, just as he’d seen Jack do before.

“C’mon, dude, uncool.” Luke scolded, irritation bubbling in his chest as his brother and friends laughed until they moved to the seats at the front of the boat, likely intending to get Quinn to stop so they could jump in the water. He wanted her to look at him the same way, desperately. He also worked out regularly, grew out his curls the way she liked them, and wore the clothes she said looked good on him so what was so much better about them than him? What was he doing wrong? 

Heat flushed up the back of y/n’s neck, tingles jolting through her as their skins touched softly. His arm around her felt secure like it was meant to be there and suddenly the embarrassment faded. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, listening to Luke mumble something under his breath. God was he cute when he pouted, cute that he’d stood up for her once again. He was taller, more confident, attentive, and wearing the clothes she loved on him, he’d listened when she rinsed his last haircut, completely warmed up to her presence, talking all the time with her about anything, going everywhere with her. Luke was her anchor. She leaned into his side and tucked herself into him, his muscles relaxing underneath her touch, and he hesitantly rested his head against hers, shutting the surrounding world out as they bathed in each other's company.

*

The sun gracefully set into slumber, painting the sky with gradients of oranges to yellows over the lake and the back gardens. Y/n’s legs dangled over the porch of her treehouse, facing out towards the lake and feeling the breeze through her hair, a hot chocolate still warm cupped in her hands. It was peaceful up there, next door was too loud, Jack throwing some party while Jim and Ellen refuged in her living room, chattering with her parents about all the children and presumably the Hughes boys’ NHL drafting. Her parents were hockey fans, but neither child played the sport, not seriously at least, but she knew it was Luke’s world and because of that, she made sure to attend his games when she could.

Luke’s footsteps thumped on the wood of the platform, and he took a seat next to y/n, swinging his legs back and forth over the edge. Jack’s party had become too loud to bear, and he felt the sweat radiate off the bodies he’d weaved through to leave the house, deterring him from wanting to join in. Besides, he didn’t want to be at the scene of the crime when Ellen and Jim found a broken pool cue in the basement, or a giant stain on the rug in the living room. 

“What are you doing up here?” she asked, smiling at him. Of course, she knew, but she loved seeing him smile.

“Wanted to see my favourite person, is that wrong?” Luke’s shoulders bounced when he chuckled. Something she loved about him was that when he laughed, he laughed with his body, shoulders bouncing, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, sometimes when he laughed really hard, he’d lean into her. 

“Mmm, nooo, I guess not. Just thought you’d be down there,” she gestured her head towards his house, “getting the party experience for when you make it with the big dogs.”

He screwed his face up, “There is the last place I wanna be right now. It’s a disaster and I don’t wanna be roped in with the blame. Plus, Jack’s been making out with a girl for an hour and every corner I took they were literally there, so gross. And Quinn’s at Brady’s. Would rather be here with you.”

“Well, aren’t you a cutie pie,” she teased. Luke’s ears tinted pink and she raised her mug towards him. “Want a sip?”

Without a word, his lips pressed to the mug, sipping the lukewarm hot chocolate which was more marshmallow than liquid. He wiped the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, watching her lips meet the exact spot his did. His stomach fluttered at the sight, the orange hues cascading over the two in perfect timing. She looked…beautiful. 

They fell silent for a moment, attention drawn next door as a group of guys cheered over a beer pong win, jumping into each other and loudly claiming that the winning shots were for the girls watching. They imagined that it was them, at some place in the future, at a party with their friends where they all played drinking games, and it was normal to express such things openly. Where everyone had grown out of their teenage features and minds, understanding the world a bit better and having fun was easier. Y/n knew all the girls that entered the Hughes’ house were pretty, and she admired the way they dressed and styled their hair, their confidence and no wonder the boys liked them. 

“I can’t wait to be like them one day, Lu.” She mumbled, placing her (now empty) mug to the side. “Pretty and having fun like that, they’re all so cool. My friend’s sister goes to college, and she tells the wildest stories, and how she met her boyfriend is insane.”

Luke’s mouth dried, it was now or never, and he couldn’t miss his chance again. Why were feelings so hard? Why couldn’t she see herself from his eyes? Y/n placed her hands on the platform edge, fingers curling over the side, and he glanced at them with temptation burning through him. Be a go-getter, now or never, do something. He placed his hand on hers, fingers curling the same as hers did. It was an awkward way to hold someone’s hand, sure, but you don’t really think things through when your heart is pulsing in your ears, and you think you’re about to explode in adrenaline. 

Y/n turned her head and looked at the heat on her hand, his larger one fully engulfing hers, “You looked pretty today. You look pretty all the time. I told you that years ago. I like the way you smile, and I like your bravery, the way you’re not afraid to talk to people, that you bring comfort to people. There are lots of pretty things about you other than your face. And hair…and eyes.” 

Looking up at him, their eyes met, and he wasn’t smiling. He was being real. He’d seen straight through her once again and said exactly what she needed to hear. But the way he said it came straight from his heart, his eyes never wavering away from hers like he’d been trying hard to put up a confident front. His hand squeezed hers, the sunset lighting up the green in his eyes but not in a soul-staring way, they shimmered. His words flowed through her veins, echoing around her head and wrapped around her heart like a hug and no matter how hard she had tried to suppress it, maybe she liked him a lot. And he’d just confirmed that maybe, just maybe, he may have felt similar. 

“Lu,” she asked, his gaze softening at her voice, “do you really think kissing is gross?”

He shook his head sheepishly, wetting his lips, “No…I just don’t know how to do it.”

“I can teach you,” she paused, eyes jumping to his lips and back to his eyeline, “I’ve read a lot of romance books to have an idea.” 

His voice stammered, eyebrows raising as his chest became heavier, breathing deeper until he managed to spill the words out, “You wanna kiss me?”

“Yeah, like…it wouldn't be weird because like…we’re best friends and all so…if we’re gonna learn it may as well be with each other.” Y/n avoided his eyes, looking between his lips, chest and their hands on the decking. They were warm, a nice warm that felt secure, the contact made her stomach flutter because yes, she had thought about kissing him, what it would feel like, if it was acceptable, what he would think of her and if he wanted to kiss her too. 

“Yeah, it’s not weird if we kiss.” Luke piped up, hand leaving hers and fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his eyes, “I wanna kiss you too.”

Y/n nodded lightly, confidence driving her to lean closer into him and the world fell silent. Luke short-circuited, he really should have asked his brothers for advice before agreeing but he wasn’t going to be a coward when she was right there, her eyes fluttering closed, and he copied. His fingers slid to cup her cheek, tilting his head in the opposite direction while his heart pulsed rapidly, faster than hockey had ever made it beat. Their lips pressed together for a closed-mouth kiss, meeting tentatively and tasting the marshmallow remnants but a new kind of euphoria burned through them for those five seconds, an addicting one that when they pulled away with uncontrollable smiles, they leant back in for another, a passionate one that lasted a few seconds longer with more confidence as they’d found comfort. 

Pulling back with eyes fluttering open, Luke’s hand covered her’s again, “Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he whispered, enamoured by the high he was left on. A high that urged him to kiss her again, and again and until they couldn’t breathe. 

“Now you know how to kiss someone.” She giggled, turning back to face the sunset as if it hadn’t fazed her at all. No blush as if she’d kissed someone a million times. Like it was empty. 

And that was that. It ended as fast as it started and both fifteen-year-olds watched the sunset until the sky bled into ink and the stars rose, not a word between them. That painful desire to keep kissing her terrified Luke through to his bones. Her lack of reaction, lack of sparkle in her eyes gave him the sickening reality check that maybe it was just a kiss. That when the euphoria circled through them it only fuelled a fire in him. Had he not been clear enough when he explicitly said he wanted to kiss her? He needed to be braver, bolder. If she wasn’t picking up on hints, he’d just need to spit it out, but not now. He could barely form a sentence as he processed the storm of emotions. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Y/n whipped her head back towards the sunset, a small smile settling on her lips to mask the twisting in her stomach. The kiss felt electric, joy running through her veins and Luke’s lips on hers let a new kind of warmth flourish in her chest, one that made tingles of excitement spread through her. She could tell the kiss had him enamoured, he sat wide-eyed like she’d hung the stars out, utterly infatuated they’d just shared their first kisses. It wasn’t like she hated it, that it didn’t mean anything to her because it did, there’s no one else in the world she’d rather have her first kiss with. The problem was that it made her feel things. Things she’d never felt before and she didn’t know if she liked the kiss or if she liked Luke. She didn’t know anything, and she couldn’t risk hurting him out of her own confusion and stupidity.

Leaning up against his locker, half-listening to what his friends were talking about, Luke watched the two from across the hall, his tongue licking his top teeth as y/n laughed with the boy she was with. One year ago, he and y/n had kissed in her treehouse, and one year on he still thought about it. They hadn’t brought it up since, it didn’t matter anymore, it was only a kiss apparently. They continued their friendship like it always had been but every now and then they’d stare at each other for a little bit too long and let the memory wash over them again. 

But he still didn't like what he was watching, it felt like a festering wound in his body with the way she looked up at him with stars in her eyes. Gradually he clocked out of his friend’s conversation and tuned into y/n and mystery guy’s like a satellite. The hall wasn’t too busy, most of the crowds retreating towards the stairs, so while their voices weren’t clear, he caught the gist. It didn’t mean he was happy about it, in fact the way he spoke to her as if she were stupid didn’t quite sit with him right, how could she like him? Luke’s glare only stiffened, burned holes through the guy’s head the more he swayed her with his compliments and smiles, God was it unbearable and Luke was at his wits end with it. Weeks he had seen the two together and his croaky, fifteen-year-old self’s voice echoed, ‘be a go-getter’. 

He pushed off his locker, weaving around the passing students and just as he was so close to interfering, he wished he’d never left at all. The world moved around him, but the volume never made it, a ringing in his ears as the words left her mouth easily. 

It’s a date, see you Saturday.

He huffed with a lump in his throat, stomach dropping and his heart bleeding out his chest and onto the linoleum, but his feet didn’t move fast enough as by the time he’d processed what he’d seen, heard, his eyes met hers and he found himself approaching her. Even at sixteen, he towered over her, shoulder leaning against her locker with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, eyes glossing but holding back the tears. 

“You two seem friendly lately, not goin’ around finding my replacement, huh?” he half-joked, trying his best to put on his signature smirk.

Y/n folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, his eyes catching sight of the friendship bracelet he made her when they were kids, “Stop it, we’re just talking. And nobody could replace you, Lulu. You’ll always be my number one bestie.” 

Bestie.

“So, where’s he taking you on Saturday? Not a walk in the woods, I hope. You know what happens there.” He didn’t care, no, no, no he didn’t. At least that’s what he had tried to tell himself. He just needed to know she was safe, yeah. That was it.

“He’s not gonna kill me, and if you must know, we’re going to the roller rink, he wants to be cute and teach me to skate.” She watched Luke cock an eyebrow; his smirk still glued to his lips as if to non-verbally ask her ‘Really? Does he not know you at all?’. “What? I tried to tell him I already knew but he insisted and like, he’s cute and he was trying so why not?”

The bell shrilled and crowds began shuffling. Luke raised his hands to surrender while she rolled her eyes, pushing him by the chest backwards towards their class as he chuckled at her, spinning around. His heart had officially been shattered to pieces; he wasn’t even in the running. He’d lost a love, but he still had his friend, but the part that stung was that he lost his first love to someone else. He had been too slow, a coward. Maybe it would have turned out differently if he hadn’t agreed to kiss her in the first place. Maybe he should have said something in the treehouse. Seeing them together would only add more salt to the wound and he didn’t think he could just get over that quickly, couldn’t bear to see them in school together, it was like having an arrow labelled above his head labelling him as a loser. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you two at it then. Call me if you need anything.” 

Y/n stopped pushing him and walked close by his side, looping her arm around his and holding tight to not lose him amongst the crowd. Luke wished he could have enjoyed the affection, but it was different now. He was just a friend and how would her potential boyfriend feel about her clinging onto him? Would it be his fault? Oh God why was it so confusing.

One weekend. One date was all it took. Luke spent the whole weekend in his basement, shooting pucks and not caring if they hit the wall or the net, that wasn’t the point, all just to clear his head and focus on something else. He started to hope his dad would yell at him for being too rough, it would give him something else to be upset about. After the puck slammed into the wall, he stood up straight to catch his breath. Hockey was supposed to channel his energy so why did his body feel so heavy still? His eyes burned hot, glazed over and he wiped the streaming tears with his sleeve. He was used to being on his own now, both his older brothers in the NHL and now his best friend had someone else. The one time he needed brotherly advice, comfort, to hear their voices the most, they couldn’t be there, and a call wasn’t the same as sitting on the porch roof watching the sunset.

Meanwhile, y/n’s face held an amused facade while her date mansplained Fantasy Football at her, eyes subtly flickering to the clock on the wall periodically. The whole date hadn’t gone badly, he paid, bought them drinks, listened intently to every word she spoke but what more was there? They’d been skating in circles, and he’d been trying desperately to appeal to her, bragging about his football achievements and now Fantasy Football. He was nice, cute, yeah, but y/n couldn’t help but think of Luke every time a word left his mouth. This guy was not special, her stomach was silent, no butterflies like Luke gave her. His smile wasn’t contagious like Luke’s. Luke would’ve taken her somewhere new they could both try or somewhere they both loved, Luke’s voice was easy to listen to when he told hockey stories, and he’d already explained fantasy sports to her the same way he would have explained it to a guy. All she thought about was Luke, compared to every guy she met. Poor Luke. She should have told him she liked the kiss then maybe he wouldn’t have run blue in the hallway. She couldn’t turn the clock back, but what she could do is move forward with the realisation that she did like Luke Hughes, more than a friend. 

She’d told Luke about the disaster date, and he’d been surprised to hear she hadn’t enjoyed it since he’d watched the two shower each other with nothing but attention and affection for weeks but Luke had made up his mind. It was time for him to take the backseat, let go of their childhood. 

Once Monday came around, Luke had to try his best to push his own feelings aside, lay off the romance hints, less like her wannabe boyfriend and act more like a friend, she wasn’t interested in him now, she had other boys, and he had to at least pretend he wasn’t interested in her. They were besties, nothing more, nothing less. She said it herself. He’d lost his chance. Even if he tried to ask her out now, what if she rejected him? Laughed in his face? His feelings mattered too, and the last person he wanted hurting them was y/n. Y/n and Luke had made their agreement to be friends, and they hated themselves for letting the flowers of a bittersweet tragedy grow in their lungs violently unless they loved each other the same.

His logic may have been screwed, but it was the only way he would be able to stay in her life, yes girls and guys could be best friends but when you were in love with yours who liked someone else, that became horrendous to bear. Especially on the daily. How was he supposed to be just her friend if he had to be reminded of why he’d go to all ends of the Earth for her every day? He’d head straight to his friends between bells, pretending he’d not seen her face sink when he walked past. At lunch he sat with his friends most of the time, got involved with their shenanigans while she sat with her group, as if he didn’t notice the longing in her eyes. In classes, he’d join his friends a little more, not all the time but more than he used to. When the final bell rang, it was her he sat with on the bus, and it became the best part of the day listening to his voice talk, having a conversation like they used to. It wasn’t until he’d started putting a wedge between them that he realised how deep he’d fallen into her grip, and getting out would be the hardest, most confusing and painful part of it. 

Y/n wasn’t used to the whirlwind of emotions, the on-off behaviour but after months of Luke being unable to decide if he wanted to hang out with her or not, she’d gotten used to it. She didn’t expect to see him after the first bell anymore, didn’t expect him to find her in the halls (but he did give her a smile and that little upwards nod guys do when they passed each other) or at lunch anymore but when they met on the bus at the end of school, they fell back into each other like magnets. She didn’t know what she did wrong that made him build such a wall, but for the first few weeks there wasn’t a night she hadn’t cried about it, not a day where she’d see his face in the halls and her heart not gain a heavy weight. It had her emotions in one giant blender, he wanted nothing to do with her throughout the day but once they got home, he replied to texts almost instantly, hung out with her over the weekends, glared daggers into every guy who ever spoke to her and what the hell was going on? He had her engulfed in blankets of loneliness and then bouncing back into that warmth of giddy sensations. The one thing she did know for certain was that the further apart they floated, the more she realised how much she loved Luke Hughes.

* 

When Valentine's Day rolled around, y/n closed her locker, cheeks aching from smiling so much. It would be the day she asked Luke if he wanted to celebrate the day of love with her, go into town, on a date. As she turned to leave, Roller Rink guy unfortunately cornered y/n to her locker, a cocky grin on his face. Nausea riddled; her smile dropped. She thought telling him that they should just be friends would be enough, but he was persistent on wooing her. Luke chewed the inside of his cheek, a cold glare on Roller Rink, he couldn’t have cared less about his name, he didn’t want that taste on his tongue. How could this guy not get the memo? 

“So, you got plans tonight? Gonna give me a second chance?” Roller Rink smirked, stepping that inch too close for her liking. So close that y/n stepped back, bumping into someone else a lot taller, broader.

Luke almost left it, almost walked away but his blood boiled too hot, “We do, yeah. Sorry buddy, maybe next time.” 

“Well look who it is, haven’t seen you in a while, Hughes. How about you let the girl speak, yeah?” Roller Rink mocked, condescending. Y/n had never been more grateful for Luke to step in, never been more grateful for a friend like him. Relief fell through her, shoulders becoming weightless, and her muscles finally relaxed. 

“Actually, he’s right. I asked him to meet me here. Bye.” She stuttered, grabbing Luke’s hand and dragging him through the hall, leaving the other guy in their dust. She grinned the whole way to Luke’s, hoping he was just as ecstatic as she was. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, falling weak to her.

It was their childhood all over again, Luke and y/n curled up on the sofa, but this time she had her head tucked into his chest while his arm sat comfortably over the back of the sofa. Her ear pressed to his heart, listening to its calm rhythm as Harry Potter played on the TV. They weren’t supposed to be that close; he was supposed to be keeping his distance, pushing those ecstatic feelings aside, being her friend but the way she snuggled into him, fitting like a glove in his figure, had his head spinning. The last time, it would be the last time he’d let her do this. Perhaps he could make an exception for Valentine's Day.

Valentine’s Day had been the exception, and the final one. When she left his house, he’d taken a long shower, staring at the wall and rethinking his options. Y/n was playing with his feelings, tugging his heart strings and he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t cope with the bursts of paradise when their met eyes, only to remember that if she really liked him, she wouldn’t have agreed to a date, and wouldn't have avoided his eyes after kissing him. Maybe he was immature, unable to regulate such strong emotions, but he hated the back and forth, he just wanted someone he couldn’t have. She went on a date; she didn’t like it so she went back to him to seek the affection he couldn’t give her. Best friends weren’t supposed to be rebounds; he didn’t want to be a rebound. If he was to have her, he wanted her, exclusively but maybe right now just wasn’t the time. 

He stopped speaking to her in class, she tried her best to crack him, grab his attention and hopefully he’d return her energy like he used to but all he gave were dry, short replies. He couldn’t let himself fall for the sweet sound of her voice and she couldn’t let him ignore her interest. When they’d pass each other in the halls, she’d smile that warming, toothy grin at him, but he barely looked at her. She caught him after school, asking him if he was taking the bus but Luke waved her off, saying he was carpooling with his friends. Luke was always busy when she’d asked to hang out, which was okay, he was allowed to have friends. At least he still texted back, not instantly and the messages were shorter, but she took what she could get. Was part of growing up watching friendships float apart? She knew that the older you got, your friends either become closer or further from you, and Luke had been her childhood friend, but she never imagined he would be the one to drift. He was also a human though, he had his own life and his own friends, she would always be there, but his current friends wouldn’t so maybe he was just making the most of things. It made sense, next year they would be graduating, and they’d never see most people again. After all, she still had summer, and you’ll never have the summer you had at seventeen. 

*

Y/n pulled the photo album out of her wardrobe, brushing the dust off before sitting cross-legged on her bed. It had been a while since she’d taken a walk down memory lane, more prompted to revise over what life was like before high school started, when times were simpler and smiling came easy. 

Each photo still had pristine quality, her and the Hughes’ boys on paddleboards, from her and Luke sat together to Jack and Quinn drenched with a capsized board, their treehouse sleepover where they got yelled at in the next morning for being noisy, the time where they played roller hockey and she grazed her elbow, her decorating Jack’s hair with glitter hair clips and a whole lot of her and Luke thick and thieves. Her and Luke at the fireworks, hand in hand, playing Swingball, asleep on the sofa, making friendship bracelets. The bracelets they still wore, even if they weren’t as close anymore. Both blue with a little white braided in, a matching pair. 

In every photo of herself and Luke, there was not even one where Luke’s attention was on the camera, his eyes were always lit up and focused on her. Each page she turned, the memory played like tapes, vividly and she remembered all the times he’d tried his best to impress her. When she told him that she liked his hair longer, he grew it. When she liked a specific item of clothing, he wore it more. He defended her when Jack and his friends laughed at her, held her closer in the crowds at the carnival, everything about his life revolved around her. Kissing her cheek when they were eleven must have taken a lot of courage and she brushed it off as a friendly gesture. And what did she do? After all his efforts, the way he was utterly enamoured when they kissed in her treehouse, she went on to agree to a date with some loser she didn’t really like because she was too oblivious to realise that Luke, her best friend, had been heads over heels for her since they were kids, and she was too late in accepting that. Luke would have never kissed her if he didn’t like her and now at seventeen, he really didn’t.

How things fall into a complex circle, a game of cat and mouse. Chasing, running, chasing and running, back and forth, back and forth. Guilt tore through her body and she slammed the album closed, running her hands over her face. Perfect, she liked him back the moment he was hard to reach. That horrid guilt in her, that empty feeling when her stomach dropped to the bottom, heart twisting in her chest when she thought about the pain, she’d put him through. It wasn’t over, it couldn’t be over, there must’ve been some part of Luke that still held on to hope. What felt like a fire lit inside her stomach, she wasn’t going to lose him yet. The summer was approaching, and over summer she’d have him all to herself with endless possibilities to talk to him, win him over again, prove that he wasn’t just a friend. She would not give up on Luke.

*

When the summer hit, all of Luke’s efforts hit the fan. She lived right next door now. He woke up every day only to see y/n flaunting around in her bikinis, he didn’t think she could get more beautiful but now she was stunning and as much as Luke tried not to check her out, he did every time. Luke himself spent more time at the gym, grew into his features and he towered over his brothers, he wasn’t hard to miss, y/n resisted the urge to gawk at him with his summer glow. 

It felt like his childhood all over again, all of them hanging out on the boat, him and y/n sitting opposite each other, Quinn driving, Jack, Trevor, Cole towards the back hogging the wakeboard and now y/n’s friend, Kim (who had bulging heart eyes towards Cole) sitting next to her. Every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of y/n from the corner of his eye, posed pretty with her chest puffed out, large sunglasses perched on her nose with her lips wrapped around the straw of a canned cocktail as she listened to Kim talk. Butterflies fluttered into his stomach all over again, he hadn’t looked at her properly in so long, he felt eleven again looking at her like she was the embodiment of Aphrodite sent down to Earth for him. What he couldn’t see was y/n looking at him back, eyes raking his figure and the way his curls bounced in the breeze, shorts fit around his thighs, smirk sat pretty on his lips. It was like the sun shone a halo around his head and her heart couldn’t have beat more profoundly out her chest.

When the evening fell, Luke stood on his porch, empty bottles of beer in his hands as he watched her boat pull into her dock, Kim lugging a picnic bag over her shoulder and waving off as she left for home. He hadn’t meant to, but it was a moment of weakness, one of those moments where he wondered if he had just been a little stronger, able to cope better with being so close to her while living in pain, if he’d be the one out there in the boat, enjoying a cute picnic dinner on the waters.  

Y/n struggled as she failed to tie the boat to the dock, the knot slipping, and she groaned in frustration. After a long day in the sun, the last thing she wanted to deal with was her own lack of strength. With the rope clutched in her fingers, she groaned loudly, glancing around for at least someone to help her until her eyes fell upon Luke at his porch. She called his name, waving him over desperately, letting him discard the bottles in his hands before he waltzed his way down the porch and through his garden.

“Need help?” Luke’s voice called out to her as he strolled along the dock, shading his eyes from the setting sun as he approached her.

She stepped away, handing him the rope, watching the way his arms flexed as he pulled the knot tight against the cleat, “Thanks, that was being a pain in the ass.” 

“They always are, the worst is waking up and seeing the rope snapped, that’s a pain in the ass.” He chuckled, remembering the morning he found Quinn with his head in his hands with a snapped rope at his feet and boat floating four feet away from the dock. They stood in an uncomfortable silence, the lake’s critters singing their songs with the occasional car driving in the distance. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, shaking his hair out of his eyes, “Sooo, it’s been a while, huh? How have, uh, you been?” 

“All right, you? Congrats on fourth overall pick, by the way, I knew you’d get there. You excited?” She smiled, rolling back on her heels and folding her arms under her chest.

“Yeah, I’ve been okay too. Sorry I didn’t reply to your text, I had so many I’m still getting through them, but thank you,” he chuckled, watching her shoulders raise as she gave a little huff in amusement, “and I guess, I’m happy that I’ll be with Jack but it’s gonna be tough. But I’ll worry about it later, I’m planning on college first, making some friends and that. Speaking of, Cameron, really?”

She forgot about him; he was that irrelevant she had actually forgotten she’d briefly dated her classmate, Cameron. She only did it in hope Luke would interrogate her, it made her a horrible person, yes, but Cameron was no saint by any means either. She hoped Luke would do what he normally did, get protective and ask her a million questions, like he did with Roller Rink, and he’d swoop in and woo her away instead, but when Luke only glared and scoffed, her plan for his attention had failed. 

Y/n’s eyebrows raised, and she blew out a defeated puff of air, shaking her head at Luke, “Don’t even go there, Lu. A wet rag would have a more interesting personality than he ever would. Thank God it’s over, finally. Surprised you didn’t interrogate me at the time.”

“Eh, I thought about it, but I didn’t wanna be that guy, y’know?” he shrugged, a static sensation crawling its way from the pits of his stomach where he’d shoved it, scuttling through his limbs and into his muscles. That euphoric feeling from the treehouse two years or so ago prying its way back into his memory the more they spoke. The feeling was exactly what he was running from, he couldn’t help liking her more than a friend but all the weight on his shoulders lifted and he felt free again, like being a professional hockey prodigy didn’t matter to her, she would like him anyway as just Luke. 

“You’d never annoy me like that.” They fell into a silence, Luke prodding the decking with the tip of his slides, y/n watching him occupy himself. She forgot how being with him felt. He felt exactly like they were standing, warm summer evenings on the docks with the breeze in their hair, in a smitten haze where nothing mattered. “Lu? Where’d you go? What happened to us?”

He froze and stood properly, eyes squinting from the sun’s glare as he looked up slowly. He hadn’t gone anywhere, is what he wanted to say but the wet glaze in her eyes suggested that y/n would’ve torn him to shreds if he kept avoiding her. He’d hurt her enough. His throat dried, a lump forming when he swallowed, “I…I got swept up in this whole draft business, family were really on my back about the whole thing, then I had Five Nations last year and Worlds next year, practice was intense and um, I was losing time with my friends…I guess. They’re likely moving out of state for college, and we’ll probably never see each other after high school.”

He wasn’t lying but what he really wanted to say refused to leave his throat, like the words were stuck in his chest.

She nodded, it was a valid answer, it made sense, she knew how his life revolved around hockey, when had it not? It just didn’t feel like he’d said everything he wanted to say, but he didn’t continue. He watched her purse her lips, the pinks from the sky fading into dark and the moon reflected over the lake, little lamps on the dock glowing yellow around them. If there were any moment he could kiss her, it would have been then. It had to be that moment when he felt his younger self spring to life within, entranced with her existence alone and the memory of the day they met, her hand reaching out to him specifically and never letting it go. Not Jack’s, not Quinn’s, always his.

“That’s fair enough,” she gave a gentle chuckle, “maybe a little warning next time, I thought I pissed you off.”

“Never, I’m sorry about that, I should’ve said,” he laughed with her until they settled, “well, I should get going before I ruin game night for the family, it was nice to chat again.”

“Yeah, it was. Thanks for tying the boat, see you ‘round.” With little nods and longing smiles, they both turned, heading in opposite directions towards the paths up their yards until the sudden burst of adrenaline rose in her chest. There wasn’t a lot to lose anymore, they were on good terms, he wasn’t pissed off with her and what better way to give him a fat hint, “Lu!”

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards her yelling, he hadn’t made it too far down the dock, her voice was crystal clear and his nickname in her voice just made his chest swell. 

“You’re looking good these days!” 

That uncontrollable urge to grin took over his muscles like he was a puppet, she’d finally noticed. His hair kept long the snug swim shorts, t-shirts and polos in styles she’d once said suited him. How could he not feel a buzz run through him, almost dizzying. As if on autopilot, fuelled by this sudden nostalgic rapture, he called back,

“And you’re still pretty!” 

No, she was beautiful, but he’d rather not yell when he knew his brothers were chewing table legs waiting for him. If he admitted it now, he’d never go back, he’d fold all over again and although she thought he looked good, spent their conversation glancing at his arms and lips, showing sprinkles of indications that perhaps he was still in the running after all, making his move after he’d sat in the backseat for so long pretending like he wasn’t interested just felt wrong. He had so much to explain before he even tried.

*

Another year, another carnival and y/n thought she’d be enjoying the games and food stalls with her best friend, Kim. She thought they’d be in photobooths, laughing over the stupid games that the odd person won and trying out the new churros stall but instead, the moment Cole offered to accompany her on a few rides, y/n knew she’d be on her own until the fireworks. She had no idea where Luke was, so tagging along with him was off the list as well and she was not going to hang around the parents and her brother and his friends, gross.

The woman behind the counter smiled, handing the cone of churros to y/n before turning to the family next to her. Kim may have been missing out, but she sure was not going to pass up the opportunity for fresh and warm sweet treats that only cost her a couple dollars. She stepped to the side, away from the counter, the aroma of sugary delights filling her senses as she took her first bite. She hadn’t tasted something so incredible since she discovered what pancakes were. 

A firm hand on her lower back wiped all sense of a blissful retreat from her body, her grip on the churros tightening and she froze, a cold presence looming over her with his hot breath plaguing her neck. Why? Why in all places where there are families with children? She wanted to run but her legs locked into place, that horrific fear chilling her spine and the default thought that it was over echoing in her mind. 

“You look a little lonely, I can keep you company.” The guy breathed deeply in her ear, with a suggestive tinge in the way he spoke. She didn’t dare look him in the eye, just peered through her peripheral vision enough to know he was at least in his twenties. 

“I’m not, I’m with my boyfriend, actually.” She replied, as confidently as she could possibly bear without bursting into tears. His thumb rubbed against the fabric of her jeans, her appetite sinking into nausea.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” He pinched a churro from her cone and now they’d been infected, now she didn’t want them anymore. The closer he stood to her, the filthier she felt like it was all her fault for not moving away. Y/n’s eyes remained fixed to the grass below, tears welling and her throat closing as she choked back a sob. She squeezed her eyes shut, helplessness overruling every ounce of strength she had the closer the guy pressed himself into her back.

“Yeah, but I do so fuck off.” Luke’s voice clipped, his hand sliding over her shoulders gently. Y/n’s eyes snapped open, immediately recognising the white Air Forces and the voice in her ears, legs finally gaining the ability to move again, and she let Luke’s hand guide her into him instead, dropping the churros into the bin nearby. She wrapped her arms around his middle, ear pressed to his chest and the tears ran hot, yet the way his arms secured around her shoulders brought a warm sense of belonging somewhere. 

“Woah, easy tiger. Was just making sure the little lady was safe in a place like this-” the guy raised his hands in front of his chest as if to surrender, an amused smirk smeared across his face as Luke’s stare darkened. His guilt taunted him, he should’ve been there and then she wouldn’t be shaking in his arms. Kim shouldn’t have ditched her, and he should have been a friend and stuck by her side. The minute he saw the guy approach her, his vision burned red and he was shoving his way through the crowds, whatever people were shouting at him couldn’t have mattered less. 

“-I’m calling security.” Luke exasperated, and he would’ve called security if the woman with her child at the stall nearby hadn’t already done so, the creep swearing and making a break for it. Y/n pulled her face away from his chest with red eyes, arms loosely wound around his waist still as she peered up at him. Luke’s eyes softened and on instinct his palms cupped her cheeks, wiping the remaining tears away with his thumbs. “I got you, s’just you and me.”

Her eyes sparkled under the fairy lights, stared at him like he was an angel sent from the skies to watch over her and he knew it. He saw it just as she saw his ears tint pink again. They hadn’t done that in months. He hadn’t felt that hot in months and the outside temperature was breezy. 

Y/n hoped he kiss her. Right there, where they were alone. Their eyes never leaving each other’s and his hands jolting electrifying sparks over her skin. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be touched my him, how light she felt. The less and less they’d touched, spoken, been in each other’s proximity the more intense the memory and feeling crashed over her in waves of yearning. The voice in her head begging him, Luke! Please stop running! I love you! Love me like you once did! 

His hands dropped and slipped into his short’s pockets, his gaze eventually leaving hers and jumping to the flashing lights of the stalls surrounding them, “You all right?” 

“I am now, thanks.” 

“I’m sorry,” he watched her open her mouth to speak, but he couldn’t keep it in his chest, she was there, and his emotions were running too fast to think about what he was doing.  The words spilled out, “I’m sorry for not being there. Now and over the past year. Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry. I wanted to tell you at the docks but, I dunno, I fucked it and then it was too late and-”

Her hands balled around his t-shirt, pulling him closer, “Lu, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

“No, no you might not,” he ran his hands through his hair harshly, “it wasn’t just because of hockey and my friends. I was jealous and insecure and that feels so good to finally admit. You went on a date with what’s-his-face, and I don’t know, I guess I thought I was being replaced and I was stupid about it, then it got too deep and fuck!” And I was so in love with you and then I lost my chance.

Y/n didn’t let go of him. His hands slipped back into his pockets, and he waited, eyes searching hers with sympathy written in them, the guilt on his face with shaky breaths. That was it? He was just insecure and was unable to process it? She heard him out, she would have probably thought the same and at that age, it wasn’t easy to just speak up about it, especially when you think you have no chance at all. She wasn’t mad, disappointed slightly, angrier at herself that he felt like he couldn’t tell her. 

“I forgive you. I probably would have done the same thing, honestly. Yeah, you were stupid, that was really stupid, and it really hurt. I’m also sorry for making you feel like you were being replaced. But if it brings any reassurance, no one would ever be able to replace you.” She pulled him into a hug, arms wrapping around his middle again and his around her shoulders, their height difference making them fit perfectly.

They pulled away after a few seconds, Luke clearing his throat as they stepped back awkwardly, “We should, um, probably head to the spot now.” 

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, totally. Um, thanks for stepping in again…I really appreciate it.” She blinked twice and fixed her hair, snapping out of her daze, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. Luke nodded before they re-entered the crowds, her arm looping around his as he led them through, glancing at her every now and then until they’d slipped out the other side, catching sight of Jack and his friends heading in the same direction as them.

Their families chose the specific spot when they were kids, it was out the way of the popular viewing places and to reach it required tackling a tedious staircase to the top of the hill, but it was the best spot that looked over the carnival below. Like most years, the two families were divided into their own little huddles, but Luke and y/n stood together like they were eleven again. Her grip around his arm tightened a little, head leaning against his arm and unleashing a giddy tingle into Luke’s chest. Y/n’s heart raced like she’d never been alone with him before, like it was the first time she’d been alone with him and God, just thinking about how Luke had kissed her for the first time in that exact spot just made her stomach warm. 

He slipped his hand out of his pocket slowly, keeping his eyes on the sky as the firework display’s music faded in. Like feathers, her fingers ran down his forearm, tracing over his skin and veins that ran hot with a resurfacing captivation like a drug he just couldn’t quit. Without saying a word or giving each other any kind of endearing look, her palm met his and fingers interlaced, rebuilding the bridge between the two lost souls as the pinks and reds of whirlwinds and willows reflected over gleaming eyes.

*

The Hughes family threw parties all the time, had been since they moved in next to the L/n’s all those years ago. Jim and Ellen always had some sort of party for the boys and as they grew older, Jack more or less became the main host, especially with the arrival of Trevor and Cole. That night it was the two families along with the Tkachuks, who moved to the lake a few years prior, who held some sort of belated celebration for Luke’s drafting success. According to Ellen, they would have done it nearer the time, but Quinn insisted the Tkachuks should join since they had played such a big role in the Hughes’ lives. 

Afternoon barbeques drifted into evening drinks and s’mores around the bonfire, Jack and Cole tossing marshmallows into each other’s mouths, Matthew telling Trevor (who spilled molten marshmallow on his knee and was trying to wipe it off with great struggle) a detailed story from one of his NHL games, Brady and Quinn debating something, it wasn’t entirely clear anymore what the topic was but they seemed to be in disagreement either way and Luke’s eyes flickered around the fire, in search of his person. Her brother was still there, kicking a ball around on the grass with a couple of his friends he’d been allowed to invite. Her parents were inside talking to the other parents. 

He stood up, unnoticed by the others, and wandered to the side gate, taking a quick look back before slipping out quietly and ambling next door to the l/n’s side gate, silently turning the hatch and letting himself into their garden. As he suspected, a faint, amber glowed from the window of the treehouse and those fairy lights didn’t turn on by themselves. With a sigh of relief, Luke carefully made his way across the garden, his footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs up to the platform and he opened the door a crack before letting himself into the structure.

The treehouse felt tiny compared to when they were kids. He was too tall for it now, having to duck under the door and crane his neck slightly, shutting it behind him. Y/n sat against the wall, staring out the window with her legs stretched out in front of her. She’d watched him come up the stairs, and it brought the slightest bit of relief that someone had noticed her absence. Luke sat next to her, shoulder to shoulder with his back against the wall like hers, the little lights that hung around the top of the walls giving their skin a dim glow. 

“What’cha doin’ up here, pretty?” he asked softly.

 She turned her head to face the wall opposite, head bumping the wood, “Got cold and needed to think. What about you? Don’t you wanna be down there, gettin’ advice from the big dogs?” 

“Would rather be here with you.” He chuckled lightly, Deja vu of the conversation. The last time they sat in the treehouse together, before things spiralled. She shivered, running her hands over her arms to rid the goosebumps. Luke shimmied his sweatshirt over his head, the navy blue ‘USA Hockey’ one he always thought would look better on her, “Here, put this on.” 

“You sure?” he nodded, and she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, the size engulfing her but she was too warm to care, “Thanks, but really, how did you know I was here?”

“Had a feeling. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

She stayed quiet for a little moment before speaking, “M’just a little worried about college. My friends applied so far out of state with all these cool stories from relationships and drama and shit and I feel a little…boring. What if people at UMich think I’m boring? What if I’m gonna be alone? I’m not boring, am I?” 

“If it brings you any comfort, I’m worried too. You know my friends are leaving the state too, and I also haven’t exactly been the most exciting socially either, just those odd parties, you remember those surely,” he muttered, his voice raspy as she nodded, “you’re not boring, by the way, never losing a game of beer pong is a talent people will kill for in college, and you won’t be alone. You’re the most likeable person I’ve ever met, and I admire how you find talking to people so easy. Remember when we started high school? You jumped straight into the jungle and made friends within the first day, took me a week to properly make mine, I was terrified. Besides, I’ll be there so you can always come find me.”

 Y/n didn’t reply, but she soaked in his voice and how easy the words left his mouth. He always knew just what to say, and that was yet another reason why she loved him. She sighed, leaning her head against his bicep, gently nuzzling her cheek into him as if to comfort herself. If only he’d wrapped her arm around her, but resting his head against hers was enough, just like they had when they were kids watching Harry Potter. Back when Luke pined over her and she didn’t think too much of it, not knowing what it was, what it meant. He may have been the only guy that ever loved her like that. Roller Rink was far more interested in the idea of having a girlfriend and Cameron…Cameron couldn’t have cared less about who she was as long as she had female anatomy. 

“Do you think I’m lovable? Like, not because of the way I look.” She babbled out of the blue, Luke’s eyebrows knitting with confusion at her sudden question, but he had asked what was on her mind.

“I think you’re the most lovable person there is. You’re funny, you’re witty, you have this admirable determination and ability to socially chameleon. Oh God, and you’re so sweet, always know how to make someone feel at peace. What’s-his-face and fucking Cameron have no idea what they’re missing.” He rambled, a smile spreading across his face as the lights in the room sparkled in his eyes. She looked at him with awe, his voice like a song that would now become her favourite as he talked with adoration, valuing her as a human being with her flaws and perfections that crumbled the walls he’d spent so long building.

“Lu…” She wanted to say something back, kiss his face all over, take him by the cheeks and kiss his lips so hard they wouldn’t be able to breathe. That comfortable silence between them where eyes met and debated leaning in, submitting to his childhood crush and her adolescent realisation.

Her phone buzzed, she hesitantly pulled her eyes from his and after reading the notification she slammed the device back onto the floor, groaning and rolling her eyes. She grabbed her phone back, swiping and blocking Cameron’s Instagram. Blocking was crazy, but it was the only way he’d stop begging her for ‘another chance’. 

“Going by that reaction, I’m taking that was Cameron?” Luke raised his eyebrow, watching her place her phone to the side and lean back into the wall. 

“Can I tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone, not even your brothers…okay?” She breathed out, staring at both their feet. 

Luke hesitated, shivers running up his spine, “Yeah, I didn’t tell anyone about the twenty-fifteen fireworks, did I?”

“Ugh, he was awful, I’m actually glad it didn’t last long. Such an asshole, I just couldn’t do anything right for him. Bad girlfriend, bad person, bad kisser, prude. And talk about peer pressure, I didn’t wanna have sex with him, right? Because if I’m gonna lose my virginity it’s definitely not gonna be with him, and then he got all pissy and said that if I didn’t, he’d tell people I was a bad fuck, couldn’t make him cum or whatever. Anyway, you probably heard the rumours.” Y/n took a deep breath, she wasn’t sure why she was telling Luke that, but why would he tell anyone? It wasn’t like he had any more experience than her.

“What happened next?” he asked, deep down his blood boiled, the nonchalant facade he’d been building up began to crumble the more they found themselves alone, the more childhood memories that flooded back to him and reminded him of how much of a coward he was, that he should’ve just shoot his shot instead of running away.

“Then I caught him cheating, broke up with him and he threw a tantrum about it, started talking shit about you, saying how I was probably cheating on him first anyway, so it all cancels out. Told his friends that he caught me sucking your dick and how distraught he was over it. Next day he happily made out with his new girl in the hall, so I obviously did not matter at all and was just a plaything.” She chuckled sadly, leaning her head onto Luke’s bicep. He wanted to scream, hold her tight and tell her how wrong she was about herself, that she wasn’t a plaything, that he was a prick. But he couldn’t, instead his mind travelled to the worst parts of him, he would’ve beaten the hell out of Cameron given the chance. His deepest fantasies crept back to him like a virus all over again. 

“You don’t deserve to be treated like that,” his voice lowered, gaze peering down to her with a fiery glaze in his eyes and she looked back at him, curious. “I’d never treat you like that, you’d mean everything to me. Every word, every kiss, everything.”

She released a shaky breath, adrenaline sparking in her chest, “I can’t stop thinking about how easy it was to move on for him, I just want to forget the humiliation, but I don’t know how to do that.” 

His gaze burned through her, a rush of desire surging, and she’d never seen his face soften like that before, like he was thinking carefully. Luke’s hand reached for hers, sliding over her thigh and lacing their fingers together, like they always seem to do. From the pits of his brain, eleven-year-old Luke squeaked out to him and his heart screamed to grasp the opportunity: stop being stubborn, you like her, you like her, you like her, you still like her.

“We could make out, we’ve already kissed here, and if he can do it, why can’t you? Think of it as liberation.” She would have thought he was joking if it weren’t for the way his voice dropped and calm tone. He was dead serious, not a drop of amusement in his voice but he was right, they had already kissed once so what was the harm in doing it again? She peered up at him, eyes scanning his features, flickering between his lips and waiting gaze.

She’d be a fool to pass up Luke Hughes’ attention after growing apart from him. When he suggested making out, why would she pass it up, the guy still gave her butterflies even if she was just holding onto a painful delusion written by the past. It wouldn’t do any harm, it would take her mind off her turmoil, the haunting thoughts that a boy used her, and humiliated her. It wouldn’t do any harm; it was just a kiss. Only a kiss that would stick with her, their mutual magnetic pull over the summer striking up the same thought between them. Maybe they did like each other the same. 

Letting go of his hand, she hoisted her leg over his and straddled his lap, hand settling on his chest. A newfound adrenaline lit up inside her like wildfire, his large hands cupping her jaw with nerves wrecking his body, thumb rubbing her cheek. He wet his lips, his one hand sliding to her nape, and he pulled her in slowly.

“Yeah, liberation.” She whispered, closing the gap between them, lips meeting timidly before she melted into his body, Luke’s tongue ran across her bottom lip, a moan drawing from the back of her throat as she let him in, licking into his mouth with a sweet desire. 

Neither had an expert understanding of how to make out, but the more they fell into a rhythm of disconnecting for a breath, just to connect again for another taste, the more electric the tension between them became. She slid her hand from his chest to his curls, fingers tangling in the loose ringlets and tugging tenderly, too caught up in the pleasure to think coherently. Luke moaned hungrily, his hand gliding from her nape down the curve of her spine and his hand settling on her hip, fingers gripping her hipbone the moment she rolled into his crotch. The buzz from the gathering next door was silenced in their ears, the only noises in their proximity being the sound of their lips eating each other and tongues lapping in a hot and heavy haze, whines slipping in as a warm temptation flushed through them. He bucked his hips up, as if on an instinct, following his heart rather than his head for once. 

Even if they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, they pulled back panting, eyes locked in a risky delirium. He ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, gulping when she wrapped her lips around the fingertip, sucking softly and swirling her tongue while refusing to drop the intense eye contact. Luke’s heart thundered, hard. So strongly he could feel it in his ears and undoubtedly his cheeks were pink. They were in each other’s grasps, overridden with a lewd rhapsody that had the bottom of their stomachs twisting and eyes half-lidded with lust. If Luke could feel how her underwear stuck to her in that moment, she would have never been able to recover from it. Kissing him so deeply with every ounce of desire that riddled her bones sent her into a dizzy haze, pussy throbbing for more every time he adjusted his hips up to meet hers. 

“What else can that mouth do?” he muttered, watching a new side of the girl he grew up with. His head was in a whole new place, a foggy mess all because she squirmed on his lap, felt euphoric on his tongue and kissed him like she meant it, like his hands over her body was all it took to light the spark that burned between them.

She released his thumb with a coy smile, a string of saliva between her bottom lip and his thumb. She could feel how tight his shorts had become and gave her hips another roll over his crotch, thriving in how his breath hitched, “Wanna find out?”

“Please.” He said with a shaky breath, hands finding their way to her thighs, running his palms along the flesh. 

Y/n bit her bottom lip, readjusting her seating by spreading his legs and setting herself on her knees between them. Although not comfortable, that was the least of her concerns. She flipped the hem of his t-shirt up and unbuckled his belt, fumbling with the button of his shorts and tucking her fingers into his boxer’s waistband. He lifted his hips, allowing her to shimmy his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring free. He leant his head against the wall, hands covering his face when she rubbed languid strokes over his cock, thriving in his muffled whines when her thumb circled the pre-cum around his tip. 

“Mm, so big, Lu.” She hummed, spitting into her palm and giving him hard strokes from the base, smiling at how his Adam’s Apple bobbed. God, he wished he hated it, wished he didn’t feel ecstatic when she called him his nickname, the name only she called him. He wished he hated how her hand looked tiny against his cock, how good he felt.

“Shit,” he whined, “need your mouth already, please, y/n, please.”

“Only if you stop hiding, I wanna see your face.” She gave his tip relentless kitten licks, a vicious thrill shuddering down her limbs to her core. He did as he was told, hands trying to grip the wood beneath them and she grinned, taking him into her mouth and just to drive him insane, moaning and his taste blessing her taste buds. 

“Oh God,” he breathed raggedly, a twinge of a groan mixed in as her tongue lay flat on the underside of his cock, swallowing him as if she’d done it hundreds of times before like she’d thought about it intensely. Her name left his mouth in a mantra, followed by swearing and whimpers he never imagined himself making. 

She peered up through her lashes, the moan she let out reverberating around his cock with such a tainted pleasure that he gasped, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of her bobbing her head over him, watching him lose himself with a burning face and submissive mewls emitting from his lips. Writhing under his childhood best friend’s mouth, in her treehouse of all places while she sucked him off with shameless lust wasn’t something he expected. She had him a moaning mess and for a moment he thought that only she could be capable of doing so. There wasn’t a chance any other girl could make him feel that much emotion during such a filthy act, his childhood crush flooding back to him all over again, all that excitement, nerves, butterflies in his stomach and now the adolescent storm of love, lust, desire, dedication and everything that got mixed up in between.

He tensed, y/n’s free hand skirting up his shirt and splaying over his abs, feeling all the dips in muscles as his core tightened the deeper she took him, hissing when his cock hit the back of her throat. How on Earth she managed it, he wouldn’t know, and he didn’t care because it felt exhilarating, sweat forming on his forehead. He bucked his hips up, an erotic, deep moan drawing out from her. 

“Fuck, so close, m’gonna cum,” he breathed, “gonna cum, y/n, please.” 

His thighs shuddered, her hands lying flat on them as Luke exhaled deeply, the knot in his core unravelling as he thrust into her mouth, his hot cum coating her tongue and throat and his jaw slacked, panting when she swallowed every drop of him, as much as she could before pulling her lips off him. His eyes pricked tears from overstimulation, fluttering shut as his chest rose and fell.

“Where-where’d you learn that?” he whispered, tucking himself back into his underwear and re-dressing himself. It was as if his high wore off, the world tuned back in, and he could hear the buzz of his family’s gathering next door again. 

She wiped the dribble of cum from her lip with her finger, taking it into her mouth and licking it clean, “I read a lot, followed my instincts.” 

“Fuck, that felt incredible. You’re incredible, never gonna forget that. Fuck, you’re still an amazing kisser, oh my fucking God.” He couldn’t help but smile, it felt like old times. The easy air where no judgement lurked, secrets could be spilt and they’d stay between the two of them, he’d sit there, admiring and folding over how pretty she was while she’d treat him like a prince. Perhaps they’d just made another bad choice, how could he not ignore his feelings now, it was so hard to resist temptation and push back the butterflies. After all those months running away from himself, from her and all that achieved was him running back around straight into her grip again. He was done with running; he was going to give himself one last chance.

With a giggle, she crawled out from between his legs and re-took her seat next to him, “Now that was memorable. Remind me to kiss you more. Do you make noises like that for every girl? They were so fucking hot.” 

“Nah, only you. Been only you. Kissed only you.” Luke let a chuckle pass his lips, closing his eyes and grinning to himself. She exhaled, peeking up at him in his peaceful state. Only her, only her. Even after all that time, he’d never looked at another girl. She was the only girl he’d ever kissed, only ever done anything with and even after he’d kept her far from his reach, it was because he only ever wanted her. Now they had each other, side-by-side, in her treehouse where she’d given her first ever blowjob and she didn’t regret one second of it, and never would despite however life turned out. 

“You won’t tell anyone about this…will you?” her voice was quiet, and she pulled her knees to her chest. “Not because I’m ashamed but like, well, you know, kinda embarrassing people knowing our business…”

Luke copied her, resting his arms over his knees, “I’m not gonna say anything if you don’t want me to, y/n. You know I wouldn’t do that, but I get what you mean. I really don’t want my brothers talking about it, and you know Jack can’t even keep his own secrets.”

“Are we cool now? No more of- whatever we’ve been doing?” she held out her fist.

“We’re cool. Just you ‘n me again.” He bumped her fist with his, “We’re thinking of taking the boat out again tomorrow, you should come.”

She nudged his shoulder with hers, “Maybe I will, maybe I’ll wear my best bikini.” 

“Maybe you should, maybe I’ll wear the blue shorts.” He nudged back, both knowing exactly which items of swimwear they were referencing. The hibiscus pattern bikini that couldn’t have suited her any more perfectly and the swim shorts that hugged his thighs too nicely, that he only wore after he’d caught her staring.

They smiled brightly, lights reflecting in their eyes as they leaned into each other’s sides. The sweet sensation of closure, burying a hatchet in the place it all started. It wasn’t a conventional way to make up, but feelings resolved that night, messages conveyed and for those few hours they spent up there, they were finally on the same page.

*

Reconnecting with someone who was once your entire world changes your perception of life itself. The sun shone brighter, the air warmer and serotonin at an all-time high. What they hadn’t realised was that reconnecting after straying away came with a thick tension between them, not like a negative, doom and gloom but something else. Something exciting.

On boat days, every time their eyes would meet, stomachs would twist and feel a heat pool in their cores. Every little move felt suggestive, every time he adjusted the way he sat so his shorts would rise up his thighs slightly, every time she adjusted her bikini, when he’d place his hand on her hips as he’d walk past, sitting on his lap and playing with his curls to make more space for the others on the seats.

At the golf course, with his lean arms wrapped around her, hands on top of hers and guiding her positioning and swing of the club, his breathing on her neck making her body melt into his and Luke fighting off the urge to drop the club entirely and pull her into his embrace, to pepper her neck with butterfly kisses until he found her sweet spot.

Nights around the firepit, cuddled on his lap in the lawn chair wearing his hoodie, his hand stroking her thigh and mumbling conversations between each other, lips dangerously close with hot breaths on each other's necks.

Naps where they lay on each other's chests, arms wound around bodies and legs tangled under sheets and blankets.

The difference between their reconnecting and the average person’s reconnecting was that actions spoke louder than words, but neither were speaking up. Luke had done his best, been explicit in the treehouse, held her close whenever they were together. Y/n was in a bumbling state, accepting every one of Luke’s attempts, relishing in the feeling of being loved and appreciated, hoping her time and attention would be enough for him.

The difference between Luke and y/n couldn’t have been more obvious to a bystander. Luke, a shameless loverboy enduring the relentless teasing from his brothers about how down bad he was and y/n, endeared but tortured Luke with her inability to verbalise her feelings, an overthinker. Luke spent so many years being direct about himself and y/n spent so many years stuck in her head and generating the worst possible situations. All he wanted was confirmation, something that said ‘You’re my only too, my everything. Only you’, something from her vocal cords.

Y/n wiped the sweat from her forehead with her arm, knees sore from kneeling on the grass for so long and hands soaking from the gardening gloves. Her mum had gone crazy with her flowers again, and insisted she needed the family to help her plant the new bulbs much to her father and brother’s dismay. The worst part was the chatter from the Hughes’, taunting her with how much fun they were having and how she was doing manual labour in the heat. A whole morning of listening to laughter, Jack and Trevor’s voices above anyone else's but all she thought about was Luke and his smile, his real laugh that came from his chest, the way he laughed with his body. All while she dug holes just to refill them again.

Somewhere around noon, she had thrown the gloves off and stood up, exhaling deeply and next door still had fun without her. God, if her fear of missing out was that bad then college would be excruciating. Having enough and falling submissive to her FOMO, she climbed her treehouse stairs, settling on the step that was high enough to see over the garden fence. 

You don’t deserve to be treated like that, I’d never treat you like that, you’d mean everything to me. Every word, every kiss, everything.

For a guy who’d been all over her, confessed that he felt something for her and told her that everything between them meant something to him, she sure became suspicious of it. Her stomach sank, tongue poking the inside of her cheek at him looking perfectly entertained pressed between two girls on the outdoor sofa, one of them suspiciously close to his face. She could only see him from behind, but she knew any girl who entered the Hughes residence was drop-dead gorgeous and if there was one thing she had learnt was that boys suck. He didn’t flinch out the way, didn’t move seats, didn’t push them off, he just let them. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t the person she wanted to be, but the festering irritation in her stomach wasn’t ignorable. Yet she trusted him, and before she would deep it, she wanted to think first, at least ask him about it before her jealousy got the best of her. She turned on her heel, thumped down the stairs and continued her gardening, which was now a lot more fun than next door.

Luke’s face burned red, only Jack would do him dirty in front of his cousins like that. His business was apparently the family’s business. The whole morning he’d been interrogated by his cousins about y/n, how she was, what she was up to, was she cute, did she make him happy, what she looked like. He pulled his phone out, opening his camera roll and pulling up a photo of her, his cousins leaning into him for a better look of the screen in the sun. 

“Oh my god, she’s so pretty, Luke!” Beth mused.

“How have you not asked her out?” Stephanie asked in a hushed voice, earning giggles from Jack and Quinn.

“I have been trying since I was eleven, okay? She’s just…not easy to read sometimes. I mean, I think we’re on the same page now, so I was gonna ask her next time I see her, ask her on a date to our favourite arcade.” He grinned at the thought, he’d planned it when he was fifteen and had been counting down the days to finally ask her himself.

He lay in bed that same night, seconds away from rolling over and turning his lamp off until his phone flashed, an influx of y/n’s texts coming through like wildfire. Running his hand over his dreary face, he picked his phone back up, reading each message one by one with unease. He squinted his eyes as if it would clear his confusion, her sudden outburst of accusations making him replay the events of the day.

Y/n/n  Who were those girls??? Why were they literally on you Luluuuu how many girls are you gettiiinnng Lulu  Huh? What are you talking about Oh they were my cousins. You met them years ago. I was showing them pics of you They were not on me thats gross they were looking at my phone so untwist your panties

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, or it felt like it. He was showing pictures of her? To his family?

Y/n/n  ?? Beth and Steph?? That was NOT them they were blonde as fuck My panties are fine thank you Lulu  LMAO yeah it was Didn’t know you were spying on me you lil peepin tom Yeah sure sounds like it. It’s okay to be ✨jealous✨ but you’re still no.1  Y/n/n  Ok I believe you WAS NOT SPYING WAS STUCK DOING GARDENING AND WAS CURIOUS Not jealous loser

Luke blew a puff of air through his nose, liking the message and placing the phone on his nightstand before rolling over. Usually, he was the one biting back his tongue, but seeing her jealous for once just made his heart swell a little more, it was cute, she cared. 

Y/n lay face down in her bed, face stuffed into her pillow and arms by her side. At least the irritation left but now she just felt like an idiot. But not a big idiot since she at least asked Luke what was going on, but still an idiot for even assuming he’d go and do something like that to her. She just hoped Luke didn’t think she was stupid.

*

Y/n hung her head in defeat, she tied the knot exactly how Luke had and yet she still couldn’t win. Another evening out on the lake with Kim, another evening where she wished she didn’t have to tie the boat to the dock. 

Hands nudged hers out the way and once again Luke had come to her rescue, crouched next to her and tying the rope to the cleat, like he had at the beginning of summer. They stood up straight, smiley, waiting for someone to say something with the crickets chirping and Luke’s brothers’ voices in the background.

“Thanks…again. I should get it someday.” She scratched her neck.

His mouth faltered, opening and closing to speak but he couldn’t choke the words out. He wanted to ask her, scream from the rooftops but something in his mind stopped him. What if she said no? How awkward that would be, they’d have to spend the last weeks of summer pretending as if nothing was going on, even if it was more than obvious that feelings were mutual. But what if she rejected him again? His hands slipped into his pockets, and he rocked on his heels.

“So, uh, since we're cool, um, was wondering for a while now if, um, and you don't have to but, uh, if you wanted to,” he started, sweat forming on his temple as his body ran hot. He’d watched Jack ask girls out, he made it look way too easy than it was, why couldn’t he just spit it out, he wanted it, that moment was what he’d been waiting for his whole life, she was right there. Chest tight, stomach doing flips, the adrenaline surging through him making his cheeks flush pink.

Her heart throbbed, cheeks ached but in a nice way, in a joyful way. This time, she would not miss her chance, it would be her and him until the end and she hoped, she begged the stars that he was going to ask her on a date. The whole summer with him, kindling spirits and rebuilding what had crumbled, two flames burning together and feeling as if she were the only girl in the world to him.

What was the worst that could happen? Rejection. Fear. Luke’s knees felt like jelly, his hands trembling and his mind coming to a blank. He couldn’t breathe, his heart wouldn’t pace itself and the words tumbled from his mouth in a panic, “um, well, Jack, Quinn and I were gonna check out this beach tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

He wasn’t lying, they were, but it wasn’t what he wanted to say. Y/n kept her smile even though it felt as if all her organs had been sucked from inside her to leave her a void. All that hope just for it to dissipate into thin air. All the little moments they shared, holding hands, exchanging secrets and forgiving, forgetting and going nowhere. It wasn’t until then it occurred to her that some people just weren’t meant to be more than friends. Just weren’t meant to take that leap into romance. Some people just were not ready. 

“Yeah, sure. Text me the details.” 

The closer they were just felt like they’d drifted further apart. They’d come so close until one of them just couldn’t do it, pushed the other away and not out of dislike either, because it was hard to not love each other but when you’d been friends for so long, everything - friends, family - felt at jeopardy. Right person, wrong time? It didn’t matter. Y/n and Luke would spend the rest of their summer as close friends. Nobody could hate Luke more than he hated himself, that bubbling in his stomach, boiling blood at only the boy who would stare back at him in the mirror. Nobody cried more than y/n, that pang in her heart every time they’d hang out, bottomless hollowness in her stomach when she soaked her pillows in the comfort of her bedroom. So close yet so far, like the stars that sparkled in their eyes when they looked at each other like they’d hung them out for each other. Once again, they’d signed that contract to be friends and if they were just that little bit braver, then maybe they’d stop letting the flowers of a bittersweet tragedy grow in their lungs, choke and suffocate them until one couldn’t do it anymore and concluded their decision. It was time to move on, stop waiting and set themselves free from the one who couldn’t decide.

Starting at the University of Michigan was like a breath of fresh air. New people, new environment, new life. Although she missed waking up on a lake, she and her roommate, beautiful and blonde, Bella (if she was going to make friends she may as well start with her roommate, right?), clicked well and decorated their dorm cosy with little lights hanging along the walls and bed frames, a rug to give the place personality and photos on the walls of family, friends and interests. Gave the cold place a bit of warm character. They giggled as they listened to the room across the hall already break out into an argument who-slept-where, they sympathised for the girl who struggled to say goodbye to her family and watched the two boys move in down the hall, y/n’s jaw dropping upon recognising the familiar head of curls. 

Luke and Dylan were long-time friends, they’d met back in the USA Hockey Development Camp when they were around fifteen and felt the pressure of new beginnings lift off their shoulders when they’d found out they were roommates. It was the best thing ever for them, setting up their room as their den, a blue rug, two plush folding chairs with the essentials: speaker, mini fridge, fan and a TV perched on top of one of the desk’s shelves. They’d spent most of their time rearranging their room to create maximum space, bickering like a married couple about the little details like no shoes on the rug and which way the desks should face. He and y/n hadn’t texted until later that night, Luke thrilled over her being just down the hall but y/n indifferent to it. Once upon a time, she would have been bouncing off the walls but now, it didn’t matter that much at all. 

In the first few weeks of university, you start making friends, join clubs and attend everything you can and go out when you want to with no one telling you when to be home. Y/n met a group of girls when she and Bella attended a social, Luke made friends through hockey. Both ended up back together when the two groups mixed by coincidence one night at some party they’d found and it was Dylan who brought it up. 

Y/n and her friends had been standing to the side in the living room of the dimly lit house, red solo cups held to chests and shuffling further away from the speaker at the other end of the room. Dylan weaved through the crowd, Luke, the three other guys, Mark, Ethan and Mackie not far behind him. She had been tipsy and grabbed Luke’s arm, Dylan immediately stopping to group with the girls. 

“Hey, Lu! Haven’t seen you in a while.” She yelled over the music, Luke standing close to her while Ethan, Mackie and Mark joined the little bundle. 

“Hey, y/n/n! Good to see you here.” He replied, dipping down closer to her ear.

Dylan’s eyes widened with his grin, pointing his drink between the two, “Oh shit! You know each other?”

“Yeah, we grew up together.” She smiled. Something inside Luke almost died that night. Something inside Luke also lit ablaze. 

“You’re y/n?! Hughesy talks about you all the time!” Dylan nudged Luke and Luke rolled his eyes, he would always have someone in his life who’d share his secrets, obviously. 

Y/n hadn’t added to the conversation after that and the group fell into a casual chatter, getting to know each other, that sort of thing. Luke felt the world bite him in the ass, that wedge he’d shoved between them now forced back and he felt like he was at square one all over again. 

That same night, on their way back to the dorms, Luke had made the clearest statement yet without opening his mouth. Ethan had been talking with her most of the party and since Luke knew her best, wanted advice. But when Ethan asked him about her number and favourite flowers, the youngest Hughes’ eyes could not have shot a dirtier look. Of course, the boys laughed, partially due to the alcohol and partially due to how real Luke seemed. Ethan flinched back, half-laughing out of nerves more than anything but that was the moment the boys realised something was going on. And they would not let Luke live it down.

Luke couldn’t bear his reflection sometimes. He had to face a coward and under the surgical white light of his and Dylan’s bathroom, where every feature and crevice of everything he hated just stuck out to laugh at him. Not physically, but all the memories of days he'd spent hyping himself up, ready to ask her out flashed in front of his eyes and he couldn’t stop the images of seeing his younger self utterly disappointed in him. He gripped the sink tight, knuckles turning white as he hung his head in shame, his eyes burning hot as they glassed over, a knot in his chest between angry and distraught igniting his tear ducts. He and y/n were part of two different groups with two different schedules, hockey was demanding, she would be with her crowd and when he thought he could finally have her without prying eyes, she was slipping further from his reach. But he wouldn’t lose her a second time. He wasn’t ready to surrender almost eight years of pining, he’d try just one last time.

*

It was exciting, it was new, it was refreshing. Weeks of classes, weeks of making new friends and weeks of finally gaining and learning independence. Things were going well for once and she even had her first date as a college student. Tony was a guy she met at a party, he didn’t resemble Luke at all and had approached her with smooth talking but lacked the character Luke held. She wasn’t sure about that, a cardboard personality but that was why she had agreed to go on a date with him, to learn. 

She’d knocked on Luke’s dorm on her way through, pushing him into his room abruptly and fixing her hair, Bella was out, and she was in dire need of a second opinion, and despite how the universe played out, Luke was still her most trusted and oldest friend. His eyes widened slightly, once again she’d quite literally taken his breath away with how gorgeous she looked all dolled up. 

“Do I look okay?” she asked, panic in her voice.

“Uh, yeah.” He fumbled out, like he’d forgotten how to speak entirely.

“That’s all? Oh God, I look bad, don’t I?” 

“What? No, you look good, I’m just confused. You going out?” he felt his cheeks warm at his sudden confession, why was it easier to admit that now and not back then?

“I’m going on a date, Lu. I’m freaking out, what if he doesn’t like me? What if I say the wrong thing or say something unfunny?-” 

Luke placed his hands on her shoulders, eyes meeting hers and her voice faded out. For a split second she questioned if going on the date was the right choice, but she caught herself, not letting the comfort of his thumbs rubbing her shoulders distract her. “-There isn’t a reason why he wouldn’t like you, chill. You will be fine, and you are funny, if he doesn’t find you funny then he’s boring as fuck. Who is this guy anyway? Where’s he taking you?”

“Thanks,” she relaxed with a smile, he always could make her feel better. “And are we really doing this again? His name’s Tony and I am meeting him at a bar near campus.” 

“Okay, you want me to walk you? Which bar-” but before Luke could get any further, she’d looked at the time and rushed out. He watched her power-walk down the hall before shutting his door roughly, hissing swears through his teeth. Perfect, just perfect, Luke’s love life was just going so perfect. Whoever this ‘Tony’ was, he despised him with every fibre in his being.

Dylan opened the bathroom door a crack, peeping out as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping the whole time. He didn’t grin like usual, his raised an eyebrow as Luke ran his hands down his face and threw himself onto one of the comfy chairs like a ragdoll. 

“You wanna talk about it? Fill me in here?” he asked, stepping into the room.

As Luke opened his mouth, someone knocked three times on the door. Dylan answered, revealing Mark, Mackie and Ethan kitted out for the gym. Ushering them in, they stood in front of Luke, like a council waiting for him. 

“Hughesy's pissed,” Dylan told the guys, “Luke, we’re here dude, let it out, brother. What’s the deal with you and y/n. You gave Eddy the evils and now you’re slamming doors and swearing your ass off when she goes on a date.”

Luke paused, thought. It wasn’t high school anymore; they were all adults. They weren’t going to tell everyone, they weren’t going to throw it back at him, tease him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it out loud, he already felt like a loser as it was. They were his friends, his brothers. 

“I like y/n, and I have since we were kids. And I’m pissed off because I’m not the guy she’s going on a date with. Okay?” Luke groaned, the guys breaking into menacing grins and nudging each other’s arms.

“Dude, you could have just said something. Come on, Hughesy, we got you.” Mark laughed, grabbing Luke by the arm and pulling him from the chair. They say the friends you make in university are some of the best friends you’ll ever have, and that was the day Luke realised that. If anyone wanted him to be happy, it was them. He wasn’t on his own anymore, he wouldn’t be in an empty house all the time, he wouldn’t have to arrive home and hear the absence of his family. His family were with him all the time now.

*

Seven o’clock. Seven-thirty. Eight o’clock and Tony wasn’t coming. Cars passed, customers entered and exited, the neon lights flickered on and hummed in the dark. The world just passed by. Y/n had never felt more humbled in her life, more embarrassed. To think that he had an interest in her was too ambitious. How could someone do that? Just leave someone outside the bar for an hour with no text or apology. She sat on the curb with her knees to her chest, mascara running down her cheeks waiting for the miracle that he showed his face, and it was an innocent delay. Maybe he got caught up? Maybe he was late from somewhere? Why was she waiting, making excuses for him? But she still waited until the evening faded into the night. She waited on that curb, drained of all feeling, limbs heavy and even her stomach felt void of anything, she didn’t feel like walking back to her dorm, it may as well have been a walk of shame while everyone laughed at how hopeful she had been. No matter what she did, who it was, she was always waiting.

The Yost rink took hockey seriously, team rooms for everything. Gym, common, kitchen, locker room, showers, everything for aspiring professional NHL stars. The guys had started their fixed routine advised by the coaches, an intense gym routine, yes, but anything for hockey. Luke had taken a break from weights, wiping his face with his towel and taking a breather when he’d overheard the conversation, stopped dead in his tracks as the words almost echoed around the room. He didn’t want to have to look at the guy, but did he really have to play on the same team as him too? The worst part was it wasn’t just Luke hearing the conversation, Dylan and Mackie had paused their music to listen in, eyes switching between each other and at Luke, whose jaw clenched tight, and gaze couldn’t have been sharper. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on that date?” Tony’s friend asked, leaning against the treadmill Tony jogged on.

“Huh? With who?” 

“Y’know, the chick from the party? The one who wore that USA Hockey sweatshirt on move-in day? Wonder whose dick she sucked for that.” His friend continued, “Man, she was cute.”

Luke’s blood boiled and his breathing deepened. He bit his tongue; it took everything in him to not bite into both their throats. She didn’t have to suck his dick to get the sweatshirt, he gave it to her before that, because he cared.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that. She’s probably still waiting for me. Leave now and you might catch her.”

Luke huffed, turning on his heel and storming out the gym, scrambling in his pocket for his phone. Tony and his friend snapped their heads to his sudden exit, catching the eyes of Dylan and Mackie who shook their heads in disappointment before turning back to what they were doing. Tony had no idea he had an enemy until then. 

He burst out the gym doors into the hallway, pacing up and down with his fingers tangled in his hair, phone pressed to his ear but every attempt going to voicemail. He gave up texting, he could send a hundred texts, and she wouldn’t see them anyway, her phone was always on silent but with enough hope, she may see him call. 

Goosebumps rose along y/n’s arms, the autumn breeze catching up to her and perhaps she should have worn a jacket after all. She thought about getting up and heading back to her dorm, but the energy to do so had been sucked from her, limbs feeling heavy, and heart shattered. The longer she’d sat there, the more she realised she wasn’t upset about Tony, it was being stood up. He really did not want to see her that badly after all. Watching the same customers walk out the bar that she watched walk in, she pulled her phone out, lockscreen filled with Luke’s contact and five missed calls. What was so important that he had to call now? Why was she suddenly so popular with him again? Just as she scoffed and went to slide her phone into her back pocket, his name flashed again, for the sixth call. Her thumb hovered over the accept button, biting her lip with nerves crawling in her stomach.

“Why weren’t you picking up? Where are you?” His voice was panicked, and she could hear how fast his breathing was through the speaker. 

“Sorry, was too busy sucking off Ohio State’s hockey team.” Her voice clipped, running her nail over her jeans, tears welling in her eyes and reactivating her mascara, if there was any still left on her lashes.

“Haha, so funny.” He laughed sarcastically, “Where are you?” 

“Why do you care suddenly? You’ll probably just laugh in my face anyway.”

“Fucking God, y/n/n. Where are you?”

She flinched slightly at his raised voice, jolting her phone from her ear before replying with a sulky pout, “Diablo’s, but I’ll probably come back soon.”

He hung up, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and bolting out Yost without thinking about anything else. The only thought was getting y/n back safely before the worst happened. What was she thinking? She should've started walking the second Tony failed to arrive, before it was dark. His jogging gradually shifted into a run, Diablo’s wasn’t more than fifteen minutes away from campus, and he was aware that he looked a little crazy running with the bare minimum of usual running gear but that wasn’t the issue. He would have never stood her up like that, he should have walked her to the bar in the first place and waited until he arrived. He should’ve, he should’ve but he didn’t. He’d been harbouring his feelings for so long, yet he couldn’t even provide something as minimal as a walk, but he wouldn’t let her sit outside a bar because of some shitty guy. 

Y/n stretched her legs in front of her, eyes locked on her shoes as her ears tuned the world out, letting it pass by slowly before she thought about getting up. She knew exactly what she was doing. Fallen into yet another trap set her heart, she was waiting for Luke. Again. If it weren’t for the familiar maize and navy trainers appearing in front of her, she would’ve punished herself for even considering that Luke may have cared about her in the slightest. Slowly, she tilted her chin up: the gym shorts, the compression shirt, the flushed cheeks and unruly curls from the wind. What was once a heavy anvil on her shoulders ascended, taking the blues out from her body and replacing them with that spark. That electric spark that made her limbs all tingly with life and energy. Luke’s eyes softened at her, although his fears had been wiped, she was okay, but Tony made her cry. That time and effort she’d put in had ran down her cheeks and if he wasn’t so fuelled with captivation, he would’ve lost his temper. But she was his serenity, always had been.

“You came.” She squeaked, doe eyes peering up at him lovingly.

“Of course I did.” Luke panted, taking her by the hands and pulling her to her feet. He didn’t let go for a while, neither did she. His hands were warm, and she remembered how safe they always made her feel, how he’d always have his arm draped over the back of her seat during the summer, how she felt like the only girl in the world when their eyes met. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.” 

It wasn’t a long walk back, but neither was it romantic. Luke had his hands in his pockets and y/n’s in hers but the distance between them couldn’t have been closer, like two magnets once again, hauling back into each other. When they had taken the fifteen-minute walk back to their dorm block, he walked with her all the way until they stood outside her door and only they could somehow make it awkward. 

They gave each other a small nod, as if to give a silent goodbye until y/n span on her heel, her arms winding around his torso against her better judgement. He blinked twice and froze, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged him so tight, she fit like a glove, and he’d forgotten how much he felt like he belonged somewhere, with someone when in her arms. He melted into her, arms wrapping around her shoulders and resting his lips to the top of her hair. The violent urge to kiss her, only a peck but he knew that if he kissed her once, it’d lead to more. It always did. 

Pulling away, she tilted her head up at him, hands holding the sides of his shirt while his glid to the tops of her shoulders. The silence thick, eyes searching for something, rolling tapes of lost memories they’d tried to forget: the treehouse, the boat, every second they even considered that they had a chance. Luke’s hands cupped her jaw, thumbs caressing over her cheekbones as he licked his lips. Her grip tightened, mouth parting and leaning onto her tiptoes while he dipped down, breaths tying together, noses bumping. He said he wouldn’t do it, she said she didn’t want to do it but in the end all they ever ended up doing was intertwining back into each other. Their lips ghosted, eyelashes fluttering against their cheeks until lips grazed in the slightest. 

The reality of the situation crashed down upon her heavily, like getting caught in a hailstorm. She was a strong soldier, she could resist. Everything would circle back like it always did. They would kiss, things would be fine and then he’d disappear. If it can happen once, it can happen again, and again and again until one of them stopped the chase. Luke would just hurt her again; she would just look for guys to fill the hole in her heart he made when he would leave, and the self-destruction had to stop at some point. Her eyes snapped open, and she nudged him back lightly, “No. I-I can’t do this, Lu.” 

Luke’s world darkened, a hollow sorrow washing through him as he let her push him away. Pathetically, he looked at her, a pleading guilt jabbing him in the stomach as his hands yearned to reach out for her. They hung by his sides instead and she inhaled deeply, shakily.

“I don't get it. One minute I’m everything to you and the next it’s like I don’t exist…you keep coming back at random times like nothing’s happened, at times when I think that you don’t want me anymore…it’s just so- so confusing! I feel like I’m always waiting on you to make up your mind, Luke.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, the defeat rising inside her. “You like me and then you don’t and I can’t keep playing cat and mouse all the time. Thank you for picking me up and looking out for me, but until you’ve figured out what you want, please leave me be.” 

 Like that, she was gone. Turned away and retreated to her dorm, leaving him standing like a lost puppy in the hallway. He didn’t want to cry, not there at least but how he’d managed to make things worse, he couldn’t say. All he knew is that she was right, and that was the part that hit him the hardest. He knew his answer, he knew he did want her and was going to give them one last chance, but she didn’t know that. From her perspective, he was just getting close to running away, hoping she’d chase him back but now she wasn’t. The next time they’d meet would either be the last of everything they built, or the start of something new.

When y/n stepped into her dorm looking like she’d been through several horrendous break-ups and four bushes backwards, Bella jolted up from her bed, scrambling out her covers. Y/n told her everything. Everything from her mess with Luke to Tony ditching her. The good, the bad and the ugly about the whole story and while Bella was pissed about the latter, even she could see Luke in a battle of his own. 

“Have you ever considered that Luke’s…y’know…scared?” Bella asked, leaning against the bathroom door frame, eyes meeting y/n’s in the mirror as she scrubbed the mascara from her face. 

As if she couldn’t have made the ordeal any messier than it was, she feared she just had out of her own borderline selfishness. She hadn’t considered his side of the story. Ever.

*

One intensely lit house with LED light strips covering the walls, pulsing and flashing changing colours in beat with the music blaring through the speakers, two girls weaved their way through a sea of bodies into the kitchen, five boys hovering in the living room, making conversation with sophomores in the frat. 

Their first frat party as freshmen and the nerves were skyrocketing. The only reason y/n and Bella went was because Dylan had invited y/n, and she begged Bella to tag along since it would be a fun experience and so she didn’t have to go alone. So far, so good. They’d lost count of how many drinks they’d poured, shots taken, people spoken to, they were just girls. 

The boys were on a mission. Well, Luke was, the boys were just orchestrating events and giving Luke multiple pep-talks about it being ‘now or never’. They were right, of course. Luke had just over a week of no contact, a week for staring at his reflection in the mirror, lying in bed at night staring at the ceiling, thinking, planning, anticipating and now it would all stop. 

Ethan lined up his shot, ping pong ball loosely held between his fingers, and he released, biting his lip as the ball bounced into the opposing team’s cup. The boys cheered, throwing each other into fist bumps and bro-hugs, a few girls applauding around them. Y/n and Bella stood within that surrounding crowd, Mark wiggling them to the front as if they were VIPs, part of their group. When Luke’s turn came around, she noticed the fan club he’d gained, pretty girls giggling and whispering between each other, cheering when Luke’s shot landed in the cup. She ran her tongue over her top teeth, a lethal glare on the girls as they tried to loop their arms around Luke’s, but her muscles relaxed seeing Dylan and Mackie stand beside him, ushering the girls back. 

Bella nudged her, leaning over to murmur in her ear, “Something tells me he’s made up his mind.”

Y/n opened her mouth, but Mark stumbled over his feet in front of them, asking if they fancied another drink (of course they did) and taking both their wrists gently with a goofy grin on his face, leading them through the people, brushing past a couple guys in the doorway whose eyes followed them towards the back corner of the kitchen, where the rest of the guys had managed to claim. Mark was sweet, baby faced and a ball of sunshine with contagious energy, ensuring they were in the circle securely. He ushered y/n between himself and Luke, Bella on the other side with Dylan and Mackie but no matter how tucked away she was in the boys, the looming gaze of someone else clawed at her. 

Ten minutes passed, the group still in a deep conversation amongst themselves and she peered back over her shoulder again, the - presumably older guy, maybe a senior - still watching her every move like a hawk, leaning into his friend and pointing at her with smirks. There’s nothing more terrifying in a woman’s life than knowing you’re being watched because being watched means there’s a further plan. If she had known she was being watched at the carnival, she could have moved somewhere else but now, she did know she was being watched and her legs paralysed, staying where she was would keep her safe. But she wanted to run, run home, run to her bed, run to her dorm where she couldn’t be found, and security cameras lined the halls. The only security blanket keeping her heart from palpitating was Mark and Luke beside her, yet the guy didn’t seem bothered by that at all.

There were too many people to run, the kitchen too crowded to slip away without getting caught by him but any longer being stared down by the guy and tears may have fallen, making the whole situation worse. Until she stepped to the side, bumping into a familiar arm. An arm that snaked around her torso and hand settled on her hip, tucking her into his side while he casually continued his conversation with Dylan. He held her close so naturally as if embedded into his autopilot, an instinct. Excitement bubbled in her stomach, exploding in her chest when Luke kissed her hair, watching the guy from across the room disappear from his peripheral vision. The guy may have been watching y/n, but Luke had been watching the guy the entire time, flashbacks from the carnival haunting him. Even if she were to shove him away, the least he could do was keep her safe from the start this time. Y/n didn’t shove him away, she leant into him like putty melding to his form, if she was with him, all the nerves disintegrated. 

“No, that’s what I’m saying!” Ethan’s voice raised above, turning from Mark as he turned to the rest of the group, “Okay, is anyone else down for shots? I have this spinner game.” 

In a group agreement, Ethan pulled his phone out, loading up said spinner game and showing his screen. The spinner had different shots on a wheel, from tequila to whiskey to rum to vodka to body shots, the aim to spin and take whatever the arrow landed on. Ethan spun first, resulting in his fate being sealed by whatever whiskey they found lying around the counters. The shot burned unpleasantly down his throat, but anything for a good time. Mackie spun next, taking a dance with tequila and if he had learnt something that night, it was that him and tequila were not fated to be lovers. Both Dylan and Bella took their vodka shots with their arms intertwined with each other. Luke took his turn, unbothered by what his result was until the arrow landed on a body shot. He shook his head smiling, the guys allowing him to choose his partner. 

Y/n tugged on his t-shirt, gesturing her head towards the island counter behind Mark and Ethan. The group grinned, a concoction of ‘oooh’ and ‘yeah’ filling the corner as she hoisted herself onto the marble, Luke standing between her legs and receiving his tequila shot from Dylan. She tugged the strap of her tank top over her shoulder slightly, giving Luke enough room to sprinkle the line of salt on the crook of her neck while Mark returned with a slice of lime. Luke’s eyes met hers, giving her a look of reassurance, a kind look asking her if she was all right. She licked her lips, that familiar coquettish look blazing back at him just like in the treehouse last summer. Tequila burned down his throat, tongue licking the salt from her neck, scenarios of slow and wet kisses across the skin, his teeth sinking into her tearing through her imagination, y/n struggling to keep quiet but when his mouth had found her sweet spot like that, she wanted nothing more than for him to devour her then and there. 

He couldn’t have cared less about the salt, his face belonged buried in her neck and if he could rewind the clock just to repeat his actions then he would have. His hands steadied by her sides, heat flushing to his neck and the lime he was supposed to take next may as well have never existed. The opportunity was there, he could finally show her his decision, how he felt and what he wanted. The audience around them didn’t matter, to him, it was just him and y/n in some random frat’s kitchen, a simple body shot doing God’s work but Ethan rigging the game earning the MVP award for the night. He emerged from her neck, parting his lips slightly and falling weak to her and he was done with keeping her waiting. 

Pulling the lime from her lips, he tossed it aside, both hands cupping her jaw, the world stopping entirely when their lips met hastily. He kissed her like every time before, heavy and with meaning, like it screamed a thousand different tequila flavoured ways to convey his feelings. Her hands delicately placed themselves over his, keeping him close, keeping him in and pressed into her, shockwaves over her body and she melted into him with parting lips. Their friends cheered and hooted, clinking their shot glasses together but it fell deaf upon Luke and y/n, their tongues tangled in a bruising, breathless kiss until they had to pull away for air. His lips pulled into a grin, thumbs soothing over her cheeks as her eyes slowly widened with a smile spreading across her face. 

Luke dipped closer to her ear, hands falling to her hips and murmured, “It’s always been you.” 

“Let’s go somewhere quieter-” she turned her head towards him, lips close to his ear, but Dylan slapped Luke’s back and yelled something about their room being off limits for the night as he passed, Bella dragging him through the kitchen. 

Luke’s eyebrows raised upon initially entering y/n’s room, a homely feeling embracing him when she switched the fairy lights on, and they ditched their shoes next to the door. Y/n waved him over to her bed, her back against the headboard and he followed, squeezing next to her, arm wrapping around her shoulders and tucking her into his chest. They knew they owed each other a talk, their sides of the story, the rise and the fall. Luke needed to explain, and she needed to confess, the longer they pretended like it wasn’t eating them alive the thicker that wedge between them became.

“I didn’t like Cameron at all, I only went out with him to make you jealous. I thought you’d get protective…” she said, Luke humming in acknowledgement, “I just wanted that little confirmation that I mattered.”

“Yeah, it worked. But you always mattered, s’why I’ve been trying all this time to ask you out.” He mumbled, his voice seductively low, rumbling through his chest.

“Then what were you gonna say at the end of summer, because I know it wasn’t supposed to be about the beach.” 

Luke inhaled deeply, his hand snaking to her waist and settling on her hip, “I was gonna ask you on a date to the arcade we loved as kids…but then I freaked out and got scared again…” 

“Why were you scared, Lu? What was there to be scared of?” She couldn’t get the pieces to click, and Luke grew frustrated, admitting things was not an easy job. 

“Y/n, I’ve loved you my entire life, everything was to be scared of. I thought you didn’t like kissing me, then you went on a date with what's-his-face, then Cameron and somewhere between there I don’t know, I thought it was over for me, that we were just friends. I thought I’d lost you after all those years of trying.”  He rambled, the pent-up words falling from his mouth, but he didn’t sound annoyed, not once. If anything, the weight that latched itself onto Luke’s shoulders lifted the more he rambled. 

She had been right; she hadn’t thought about his perspective on everything. He’d done nothing but put her first, hold her hand, kiss her, accompany her, rescue her, be the boyfriend she never had, and she threw him to the side for some guy as if he never mattered. Then wondered why he was so far away. Perhaps she would’ve reacted the same, after all, seeing someone you love with another isn’t a burden easy to bear. Guilt choked her hard, he knew all along what he wanted, and she’d just made it difficult to confess. Really shitty but she was part of the problem Luke battled.

“You never lost me, Lu,” with glossy eyes and a delicate touch to his jaw, she turned his head to face her, “we’ve been close for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s why I was scared. I can’t just be friends with you and last summer we weren’t just friends, y/n. Last summer meant everything to me and I really hoped you’d be my girl and well, I fucked that up.” His eyes flickered to her lips, he should have felt bad as tears welled in her eyes, but he finally, with the liquid courage from earlier, could get the words out how he wanted. 

Her lip quivered, hand cupping the nape of his neck and her thumb leaving feathery touches over his jaw, a tear breaking through and slipping down her cheek, “Me too. Is there a chance…I can still be your girlfriend?”

“You think I kissed you for shits and giggles?” He leaned in, half on his own and half with the prompt of her pulling him closer, pressing their lips together tentatively, a warmth of familiarity blooming through them like flowers in their lungs. But those flowers weren’t choking them anymore, they weaved between their ribcages and bones like a garden of bliss and beauty, pollinating their hearts with desire. 

He licked across her bottom lip, tongue finding hers in a languid rhythm while his free hand wrapped around her thigh, pulling her over to straddle his lap. Y/n moaned into the kiss, relaxing under his hands gliding over every inch of her waist and back, pressing her body into his with lips disconnecting with strings of saliva between them. He smothered her neck in electrifying butterfly kisses, from her ear down to the crook of her neck to that sweet spot he’d found earlier, nipping at the skin until her fingers laced in his curls, tugging and drawing a deep, raw groan from his chest. 

Luke’s hands, hot and calloused, snuck under her top, slowly following the natural curve of her spine and waist, the fabric rising the further he explored, thumbs teasing her underside of her breasts along the lace of her bra. Lace. The concept of y/n wearing lace underwear sent shivers down his spine, heat to his dick and his hips bucked up as if a reflex, but it wasn’t the first time he’d imagined it. A high-pitched whimper escaped her lips, little sparks flushing over her skin the further her top seemed to hike up her body until Luke bunched the fabric at her chest, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the end of her bed, his warm lips attacking her collarbones with little nips disguised by kisses before sucking pink blossoms along her skin to her tits, his large hands cupping and kneading. 

“No fair,” her fingers tugged at the back of his t-shirt, clumsily pulling it up his back. He let out a low chuckle into her skin before sitting straight, discarding the clothing over his head and setting his hands on her waist. She’d seen him hundreds of times before, but this was different, this was private. “So fucking pretty, Lu. Just wanna…”

“Just wanna what?” he purred, leaning back into the headboard and adjusting his hips up against her, his jeans failing to hide his solid cock bumping her crotch. “If you’re gonna talk dirty to me, you gotta use your words, pretty girl. I don’t know what you want me to do.” 

She gasped, pussy fluttering at the friction and her dreamy gaze brought his cocky smirk back to his lips. Luke’s hands gripped her hips tighter, guiding them to roll over his dick once more, twice more, until her nails dug into his shoulders for stability, inner core burning like fire with every brush against her clit, panties sticking to her folds in ways that disgraced her dignity. It felt so good, she felt good, just dry humping alone had her jaw slacking and little pants of air slipping through her lips all while Luke tilted his head back, grinning ear to ear with his eyes closed, cock throbbing painfully. He wouldn’t have cared if he came right then and there, in his boxers that he would sure have to wear in the morning. 

She took his hands off her hips, gliding them up her body until they reached her back, his fingers meeting the clasp of her bra as she slid the straps over her shoulders, a sultry yet so encouraging look smeared across her face. He struggled slightly with the clasp, but her hands cupping his face rid of the embarrassment before it had even hit, the underwear falling from her body and discarded to the floor. Luke licked his lips, her hands finding their way to his and placing them over her tits, an invitation to explore how he pleased. His ears tinted pink again, eyes unable to leave the view of his hands timidly groping her chest and every thought he’d been having up until that moment blanked. Soft, so soft and squishy, God he could do that forever, sleep on them until the end of time. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, her back arching into him and y/n let out an airy whimper, tilting her head back. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, y/n,” he hummed, one hand lying flat on her back as he dipped down, pressing wet kisses to her tit, taking the peak between his lips and swirling his tongue leisurely around her nipple. His other hand wrapped around her other breast, groping and squishing it, pinching the nipple between his fingers until her airy whimpers increased into lewd cries of his name, a whirling warmth in her throbbing cunt. He released her - now wet - tit, breathing heavily with disbelief. He’d just sucked his childhood crush, long-time friend’s tit, in her room and she was really half naked on his lap, definitely feeling how hard he was against her pussy, and he loved every second of this animalistic yearning coursing through him.

Y/n’s hands trailed down his chest, over every dip and definition of his muscles until they fumbled with his belt, mind becoming hazy at the memory of the way she looked at him the last time she’d taken him in her mouth, the pleasant challenge of getting his tip to hit the back of her throat, his whimpering and begging replaying in her ears. Sliding backwards down his legs, she barely got her mouth anywhere near his cock before his fingers wrapped around her neck, pressing firmly on the sides and pulling her back up to his eye level, her heart pulsing in her ears with the condescending look on his face. He slotted his mouth on hers to find her tongue again, saliva pooling at the corner of their lips and they didn’t hate it. She shouldn’t have enjoyed the compression as much as she did, but his hands were so much bigger on her body, like he could crush her and her eyes threatened to roll to the back of her head, a strained moan gasping out. 

“Please,” she whined between kisses, “taste so good, so big, need you.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s my turn.” He looked down at her before releasing her throat, winding an arm around her and flipping her onto her back underneath him. He painted her body with gentle kisses, from the valley of her breasts, down her stomach to the top of her shorts, smoothly unbuttoning them and pulling the zip down with his teeth, “Been thinkin’ about how you taste. Can I?”

He peered up at her through his eyelashes, watching y/n prop herself onto her elbows and lick her lips. She paused, the silence comfortable as he waited for her consent, “Yeah, please…this is just…never done this before.” 

Luke kissed her stomach before sitting onto his knees, giving her a warm, reassuring smile before hooking his fingers around the waist of her shorts, “Neither. We’ll figure it out, okay?” 

She nodded, smiling, lifting her hips and letting him slide the clothing down her legs and ditching them somewhere on the floor. He straddled back over her, running his hands over her bare legs before dipping down to place a hot kiss on her clothed clit, sparks skimming over his body by how sopping her panties were. 

She whimpered quietly, watching him begin to lower himself before she placed her foot onto his shoulder, pushing him back onto his knees, head lulling into her shoulder with a desperate tint in her eyes, “Jeans, off.”

The corner of his lips tugged upwards as he slid off the bed, kicking his jeans and socks off and crawling back over her, settling between her legs again. His fingers re-hooked around her waistband, gliding her panties down her legs leaving tingles like feathers along the skin in their wake before she removed her legs from them one by one. He threw of leg over his shoulders, laying on his stomach and left slow kisses along her inner thigh, nipping at the skin to pull a squeal from her and sucking over the spot until a purple blotch marked. One hand lay splayed over her lower stomach, his other holding her other leg slightly apart, enough to catch a view of her glistening folds and give him room to spread them open with his thumb. 

“Fuck, gonna need you to use your words here, pretty girl.” His voice was gruff, breath hitting her sensitivity, and she lulled her head back, readjusting herself on her elbows because there was no way she would miss watching him devour her. His thumb circled her clit dubiously, eyes peeking up at her and even though the sensation didn’t hit just right yet, having any sort of attention to a virgin clit still sent pleasure to her head.

“Little firmer, little faster-oh!” she explained, Luke following her instructions as she spoke until the sensation hit her like a brick, jolting through her, jaw falling slack, “Like that, Lu, shit.”

He grinned, running his other thumb through her folds, spreading the slick before taking his thumb into his mouth, eyes locked into hers, licking and relishing in the way she tasted and humming into the heaven that consumed him. Sinking lower into her mattress, he drew his hand away from her clit, hand pressing down on her stomach and other wrapping her thigh around his shoulder, tongue flicking at her bundle of nerves, small kisses, nipping, sucking until she raked her fingers through his curls, pushing him into her cunt. He ran his tongue through her folds, lapping at the pussy juices without a care about how loud he was being, nose bumping into her clit, her jaw falling agape and helpless mewls slipped through her lips as she bucked her hips up pathetically. He could have eaten her out all day, his new favourite place to hide that graced him with the most beautiful, pornographic noises from his favourite person. He couldn’t help himself, there was too much ecstasy intoxicating him that he barely noticed himself rutting his cock into the mattress the hungrier he dipped into her.

He pulled back momentarily, lips vibrating against her cunt that had her wines drawn-out and fingers tugging at his curls in a way that tore guttural groans from him, “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, all fuckin’ mine.” 

He dove back in, hands pinning her to the bed and plunging his tongue into her, moaning against her folds so harsh they reverberated through her body, making every hair stand on end. He lifted his head up, middle finger tracing through her folds and sliding inside her easily, a wave of fire washing over her, and his ring finger entered alongside, Luke pumping them in precise and careful motions while watching the way her face contorted with pleasure. 

“That’s it, good girl,” he cooed, his name falling from her mouth like a song. He curled his fingers, realising he’d hit the right spot when her breath hitched and whimpered out, “so loud f’me, that’s it, taking my fingers so well.”

“There, right there, Luke! Don’t stop!” 

His fingers thrusted in and out of her with a rhythm, cherishing the warmth and completely obsessed how she stretched out for him, biting his lip and petting her g-spot as she squirmed, his hand on her stomach keeping her still. He drew his fingers out, taking them into his mouth, eyes almost fluttering closed at the taste until he dove straight back into her pussy, messily letting his tongue work its magic with his nose hitting her clit with each dip.

“Lu! Luke, please Luke,” she sobbed out desperately, free hand gripping the bedsheets. She couldn’t believe he’d never gone down on a woman before, he ate her like a starved man, so many pleasures triggering at once, her body and mind completely short-circuited, and she was left with filthy whines and incoherent sentences. “Gonna cum, let me cum, please-”

Her words dissipated into the air, eyes rolling back as the brutality of his tongue lapped and assaulted mercilessly, arousal coating his chin as he attempted to pull her impossibly closer. He’d never thought he’d be so pussydrunk on someone before, especially going in with only the knowledge his friends had given him after many late-night conversations in random car parks of fast-food restaurants. The coil in her stomach tightened, eyes squeezing shut and she was so close to that final release until cold air fanned her pussy. Eyes snapping open, she whipped her head forward to see Luke staring at her with wild eyes, arousal dripping from his chin and her fingers slipped from his hair as he sat on his knees, her legs falling and wrapping around his hips as he wiped his face with his hand, licking the excess from his fingers. 

“Why’d you stop? I was so close.” She whined, but trailed off the further he tugged his boxers off, cock springing free, and he hovered over her, dipping down to kiss her softly, trailing from her lips, along her cheek to the shell of her ear.

“Want you to cum on my cock,” he purred, latching his teeth onto her collarbone, sucking until he’d left his mark, teasing her cunt by running his tip through her folds until her arms wrapped around his back, nails digging into the flexed muscles.

“Fuck, need you inside me, Lu,” she said in a small voice, unable to take the teasing anymore with a throbbing pussy and desperate need to be filled up, “m’on the pill, please, fuck me.”

“Ssh, I got you,” he murmured, inching his cock in painfully slow but the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Luke groaned into her shoulder, every vein, every nerve caressing her warm walls the further she swallowed his size. God, she felt so perfect, suited for him and for a moment he thought she’d struggle to take him until something about imagining the bulge in her stomach as she tried to take him made his cock twitch. Once he bottomed out, their lips met for a long kiss, her tongue darting into his mouth and muffling her moans as she adjusted to his size, core burning at how he stuffed her full and she craved more. 

Y/n’s nails massaged his scalp, tugging gently, “You can move,” she whispered.

He steadied his biceps either side of her head, rocking his hips back and forth languidly like she was made of glass until the little high-pitched whimpers sank into his skin, spurring him to increase his pace, feeling her tits bounce against his chest with every push in. Sweat formed on his forehead, curls beginning to stick as he huffed hot air into the crook of her neck.

“So tight, y/n, feel so fuckin’ good,” his lips laced her neck in sloppy kisses before sitting on his knees, hands on her hips in a vice grip as he drilled into her, gradually thrusting harder and faster the more his eyes locked on the bulge in her lower stomach. His splayed hand over it, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest, “so fuckin’ tight n’ look at that.”

“Feels s’good!” she cried, “Oh- yes, Lu, yes.”

Her nails dug into the sheets, fisting them as Luke snapped his hips, euphoria erratically zapping him as he watched the way his cock bulged and dipped with his thrusting, her walls clenching around him. She wailed out an erotic moan, mind fogging and the only sense working in her system being the way she could feel his cock pulse inside her, dragging along her walls and stuffing her full like he was meant to. 

“You feel me, babe? Feel how fuckin’ well your pretty pussy takes me?” A carnal desire controlled him like a puppet, the deeper he slammed his dick into her, the louder the slapping of skins and he leaned back down over her, feeling her arms struggle to embrace his much larger body and nails clawing angry marks into his skin as if marking her territory. He could get used it, no one else could make him feel the way she did. No one could make him want to fuck her with every drop of love and affection he had in him other than y/n. He wasn’t driving into her because he was horny, he wanted to be closer, feel purpose and comfort with being vulnerable and exposed and it just happened to be the most pervertedly enthralling experience of his life. 

“L-Lu! M’gonna c..cum.” she panted, letting drawn-out, wanton moans bounce off her dorm room walls the deeper he plunged his cock into her, “So big- let me cum, please.”

“Me too, pretty, me too.” He planted a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the salty sweat coating his tastebuds, he couldn’t have cared less, it wasn’t like he wasn’t drenched in sticky sweat too. 

She began to fall limp, her grip on him loosening as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, the coil in her stomach unable to get any tighter and on its last legs. She didn’t want the high to end, the volume of the world starting to cut to white noise and vision blurry, Luke’s stuttering thrusts tearing an orgasm through her while he fucked her through his own, white, creamy release circling the base of his cock as his rutting slowed to a stop. He collapsed onto her chest, buring his face into her neck and panting falling in sync with hers. 

He pulled out, wiping the leaking cum from her thighs with his finger and taking in the last juices before nestling into her breasts. His eyes fell heavy when her fingers carded through his curls and with the little energy he had left, he kissed her cheek, “You did so well for me, such a good girl. Pretty fuckin’ noises just f’me.”

They lay in silence to muster up their energy, breathing patterns in sync, y/n tracing patterns over his back and Luke periodically leaving chaste kisses on her collarbone. The world couldn’t have been more perfect, even if their skins stuck together grossly, even if they had to sleep in cum-stained sheets for the night, he planned to help with cleaning those in the morning anyway. Y/n’s heart didn’t race with him anymore, it slowed with serenity of finally having a person, finally being able to breathe around him. There was truly no greater feeling than the tranquillity of devotion blooming through two lovers. 

Y/n tapped his back lightly, indicating that she needed to get up. He weakly crawled off, helping her by the hand and following her to her bathroom. They didn’t bother with privacy while she peed, they’d just had sex, what was there to hide now? What Luke did do, was wet a cloth y/n had pointed to him and do his best do wipe up any excess release off the mattress, highly aware that most if it would have dried by that point.

“Lu?” she called out quietly, poking her head from the bathroom. He turned his head, calmly, “You showering now or in the morning?” 

Something so simple, so domestic had his heart melting inside his chest, “I’ll go after you.”

She smiled, disappearing back into the bathroom. He picked up his clothes, folding them and placing them onto her desk chair. He folded her clothes next, hanging them on the back of her chair and pulling her pyjamas out from under her pillow, where she always put pyjamas, no matter where she was. Luke’s mind slowly functioned like normal again, the high of sex wearing down yet still giddy in his system. After years of pining, failing, chasing, crying, they finally fell into place. Was it worth it? Yeah, maybe. Was there an easier way? Absolutely, but he was younger then, scared and stupid. It didn’t matter anymore, he had his girl, and he loved her more than anything.

*

Y/n stirred, sleepy eyes opening to a weight on her chest, a grounding weight with long, unruly curls brushing against her lips ever so slightly, one palm cupped over her breast with his ear pressed to the other. Luke’s other arm managed to wind itself around her waist, trapped between the curve of her back and the mattress, one of her hands gently stroking through his hair and the other tracing the red scratch marks along his bare back. His breathing heavy but his face so peaceful and she smiled to herself. No, she didn’t think he’d run off before she’d woken up but she had entered university thinking it wouldn’t be him in her bed at all, but she was elated that it was. There wasn’t a better sight to see at eight in the morning. 

Luke’s eyes fluttered open, groaning deeply at his hair being played with and he nuzzled into her chest. He rasped, morning voice deep and husky, “Morning, beautiful.” 

“Good morning, pretty boy.” She smiled, pushing hair off his forehead. She wanted to wake up like that every day, tangled with Luke, him being the first person she saw, listened to. Even if he was much larger than she was, the pressure of him laying on her body was comforting, domestic even.

He shuffled around, removing his arm from around her waist, letting the blood flow back through it before propping himself onto his elbows. His eyes scanned her features, her sleepy eyes, tousled hair, the red bites on her collarbones and his lips pulled into a beatific and lazy grin.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, his smile transferred to her infectiously and she cupped his cheek. 

“Thinkin’ about how much I love you, s’all.” 

Y/n’s chest warmed, fireworks exploding at her loverboy gazing at her with awe glazed over his eyes, the words falling onto her ears feeling right, bright and fresh like the first time the sun shines in the spring and all the new life begins. 

“I love you too,” she kissed his forehead, interrupted by his stomach rumbling, “breakfast?”

He threw back the duvet, scrambling off her and sighing at his clothes he folded on the chair, y/n shuffling around behind him before handing him his USA Hockey sweatshirt and a pair of shorts he’d left at her’s over the summer. He slipped his phone from his jeans pocket, how it had managed to stay tucked in there was beyond his knowledge and how it still had twenty-percent of battery was also a question for the deities above. 

Luke almost dropped his phone when two arms wrapped around his torso from behind, his cheeks burning from smiling and his stomach fluttering, “The guys wanna debrief in the dining hall.”

“Mmm’kay, but you know they’re gonna ask where we went last night, right? What do we say?” she peppered his back with kisses until he spun around, her arms still looped around his torso but now he could take her face into his hands.

“As if they’d remember, they’d be lucky to remember anything after doing shots.” He laughed, planting a kiss to her hair. 

Luke had been right. The boys and Bella all sat at one of the tables, coffees and bowls of cereals and plates of toast being poked at with hands cradling heads, hoods pulled over. Luke and y/n joined them, their own breakfast in front of them and slightly perkier than their friends.

“You guys look rough, long night?” Luke quipped, shoving cereal into his mouth. He didn’t feel too bad, but by the time he’d kissed y/n on the counter he’d sobered up. 

“Bro don’t even go there,” Mark grumbled, his face pale, “the last thing I remember is Ethan asking to do shots and beyond that is blank. Woke up on the floor in last night’s clothes.” 

“How the fuck are you okay, man? You were on beer and tequila!” Dylan complained, hoodie pulled high up his neck and drawstrings pulled tight, his hair dishevelled still. 

“No, no, there’s a more important question,” Mackie waved his spoon around at the group, giving Bella an encouraging side-eye, who kicked Ethan under the table.

“Ow, shit-” he hissed, but eventually catching the others drift. Y/n gulped, her breathing becoming shaky, and Luke’s hand found her knee, thumb caressing it softly as all eyes fell to the pair. What was she supposed to say now, anxiety fizzled in her stomach and Luke’s chest tightened. No, they weren’t ashamed but it’s not something you outwardly announce to people you’ve known just over a month, “Legend has it that there’s some deep lore going on here.”

Y/n exhaled, her breathing finding it’s pace again and Luke felt like he’d been freed of all his bounds. That…was not what they were expecting at all. They looked at each other uncertainly, shrugging before turning back to the others.

“Yeah, come on, do tell. If we’re gonna be friends, we gotta know the backstory of this whole thing we got roped into. We got time.” Mark leaned closer into the group, they all leaned closer as if they were about to hear the greatest secret of all time. 

They both sighed, Luke speaking up first, “Well, it all started when we were five-”

The retelling began, everyone invested in their cat and mouse game that demonstrated how naive and fragile the world can be. The rumble of the dining hall silenced out in their ears, and while one chapter closed for good, university would open another, but this time, they’d live it together where they’d be on the same page instead of skipping sections or tearing parts out. Luke got his girl and y/n got her romance, and neither would be stuck waiting on each other anymore.

small worlds | @bunbunbl0gs

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[majinbangus]

more of big simon, little simon, and mama

He's drinking his morning tea when there's a knock on his door. Unlike last time, it's a simple rap of three knocks. A patient sound. He's not expecting anyone, but he has a feeling who it might be.

Simon finishes sipping his drink, the warmth of the tea spreading down his chest, sending a pleasant buzz throughout his body. He tilts his head back as he drinks the last of it, letting out a sated groan. It's been awhile since he's had tea this good.

Another three knocks sound off again, this time more enthusiastic. Simon quirks a brow. More than likely, those three thumps were from his little name twin, knowing the impatience of a child.

He places his mug in the sink and walks over to open the door, unsurprised when he sees you and your boy. Not an unwelcomed sight, but certainly a curious one. Last time he saw you was the morning after the night he watched over you, staying for a quick, slightly awkward breakfast when little Simon insisted, and when big Simon took one look at you, sickly and lightheaded, and thought it best he made something for your small family lest you faint and scare your boy again.

"Simon!" The lad greets with that toothy grin of his. Mostly toothy. Your boy is missing one of his top incisors. "Good morning!"

"Morning." Simon nods back and drawls, "What do I owe the pleasure?"

The rambunctious child practically bounces in place, tugging your hand cheerfully, addressing both you and Simon. "Me and Mama want you to come with us for breakfast."

"Brekkie?" Simon squints down at the lad, tilting his head. "Why?"

"Mama says it's a thank you for when she was sick, and I wanted to spend time with you!" Little Simon says with a gleeful smile.

"Is that so?" Simon murmurs under his breath. You got yourself a sweet lad. So free and honest, unafraid to share his emotions with the world. The childlike happiness being something he hasn't seen in a long time. A kind of innocence that needs to be protected and cultivated. Something Simon never really got for himself.

Maybe he could do that for you and your boy.

"Simon?"

He blinks and focuses on the lad. "Yeah, mate?"

His name twin gives a hopeful look. "Please say you're coming! Me and mama really want you to come!"

"You and your mum, huh?" Simon huffs a little, amused. "Is that what she said?"

He turns his gaze to you, and instantly, all thoughts of breakfast fade out of his mind, a smirk spreading across his lips. You look as if you haven't heard a word he and your boy exchanged. Probably his fault from the looks of things. He didn't bother changing out of his sleep clothes when he got up- a rare, indulgent, lazy day for him- and opened the door as is. Shirtless. Shameless. In nothing but a worn pair of fading plaid sweatpants.

You're staring. At his chest, at his abdomen. Over his arms and down his tattoo. Eyes brazen as they rove over all of his perfections and imperfections. His muscles... his scars... his happy trail.

You carefully avoid looking down any further.

Cute.

"Ahem." Simon casually leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. Perhaps flexing a smidge. There's no one here that would call him out on it, though. He cocks his head when you continue to stare. He clears his throat more clearly. "Ahem."

No response except for your mouth dropping slightly open when he flexed his arms. Hah. He swears you'll start drooling soon. When was the last time you saw a shirtless man? Was it when you were still with your ex? The man must have been something unremarkable if this is your reaction to seeing Simon scruffy and shirtless.

What would your reaction be if you saw more of him? In a different setting, if it were just you and him? What would you do? What would you say? What then?

Dangerous territory to be thinking about. He should probably stop. He doesn't want to.

"Mama!"

Little Simon notices the staring.

That gets you out of your daze. And big Simon out of his.

"Huh? What?" You blink and finally tear your gaze away, squeezing the smaller hand in yours. Unfortunate. He quite liked your ogling. "What is it, Simon?"

It's a hilarious sight. You, the mother, looking like a child who's hand got caught in the cookie jar (the cookie jar being big Simon), and your son looking like the reprimanding parent placing his hands on his hips.

"You were staring!" Fucking, hell. It even sounds like your son is scolding you. "You told me it was rude to stare!"

You sputter, "I- I wasn't!"

"You were," Simon cuts in, ruthless and smirking when you look back at him, an embarrassed tension puckering your lips. If he wasn't so chuffed, maybe he would take mercy on you. But he is, so he won't. Simon rolls his shoulders, stretching his muscles- maybe flexing a little more- watching your eyes dart from his face to his body and back to his face again before he turns to your boy. "Wasn't she, mate?"

"Yeah," Little Simon agrees, oblivious to your turmoil. "Now you have to say sorry, Mama!"

Big Simon, on the other hand, is a cruel bastard for taking pleasure from your floundering.

"But I didn't mean-"

"Try again. You heard your lad." Simon pushes off the doorframe and purposefully stands to his full height, making himself bigger as he leans toward you. "You wanna make a good example, yeah?"

It's adorable the way you struggle to maintain eye contact, biting your lip. "Y... yeah..."

Simon raises an expectant brow, and you gulp. "Uh. I... I'm sorry."

"What for?" Simon asks just to make things difficult for you and you squint at him. He smirks. Fine. He'll allow you some breathing space and back up.

You give an audible sigh of relief when he leans against the doorframe again. "I'm sorry for... for staring at you."

It's fun watching you squirm, eyes gleaming widely and silently pleading for mercy. Should take a picture so it would last longer. He holds in a chuckle. What an interesting thought.

But he's made you suffer enough. Simon looks at your boy. "What do you say, lad? Think that was an adequate apology?"

The boy puts a finger on his chin. "What does 'adequate' mean?"

"Means it's good enough, or acceptable."

"Then yes! Mama made an adequate apology." The lad proudly shows off his newly acquired vocabulary.

Simon huffs with amusement before turning back to you. "Suppose I can forgive you then."

You stare, as if you can't quite believe the interaction he had with your son, and Simon's almost tempted to make a comment ("we just went over this, love"), but then you bow your head and laugh lightly under your breath, mumbling, "Wow."

He cracks a little smirk.

"So will you go with us, Simon?" The kid asks when it's clear the adults aren't going to say anything else. He adds on a sweet, "Please?"

How could he say no to that?

"Alright." Simon stands up straight, preparing to walk back into his flat. "I'll come grab some brekkie with you."

"You will?" Your boy flashes an eager grin. "You'll come with us?"

Simon pats the lad's head, nodding. "Yeah, kid, just lemme change first."

"Alright!"

"I'll meet you on the first floor." He moves to close his door, but then pauses, eyes finding yours with a teasing glint. "Or you could wait in here-"

"We'll meet you on the first floor!" You blurt out, avoiding his gaze, and grab your boy's hand, quickly tugging him along. "See you, Simon!"

"See you, Simon!" The lad echoes and waves a hand, unconcerned by your rushing. You disappear with your child soon after, and Simon chuckles, shutting the door.

He looks towards the kitchen, debating. He can do the dishes when he gets back. They can wait. You and your boy are probably hungry. He won't keep you guys waiting, and even though Simon already ate breakfast, he doesn't mind going out. But he doesn't need to tell you that. Simon still has room to eat, and he won't mind spending a bit more time with you and little Simon.

-

Big Simon totally wears a compression shirt to make your brain short circuit. Meanwhile, little Simon is wondering why Mama is tripping every two seconds.

[2tarbell]

does twee have a job??? i know you mentioned her being pogue turned kook, im wondering if she’s kept a job she had as a pogue 🤭….

TWEE!READER who is a cart girl! she started the job right before her father came into money and wanted to keep it. mainly because she misses the pogue lifestyle and working makes her feel less guilty about now living in a nice house.

she receives a lot of tips because the players think she’s the cutest thing! rambunctious and teasing, having inside jokes with all the members. in her little cart girl uniform, tight polo and pleated skirt. her striped socks and maryjane’s. hair always done up in some cute style. she’s a natural born people pleaser and can happily stay afloat in the midst of these golf playing men. but only because she doesn’t entertain their foul intentions, too naive to assume anything bad.

but she actually met rafe after her shift ended, parking the cart back in its ‘home’ and gathering her things. he’s just leaving when he passes her by, having been in the carolina sun all day golfing with his boys. they’ve since left and he found himself lingering just a bit more, hoping to catch that cute cart girl he saw at the ninth hole.

he’s handsome, that’s the first thing she notices. and her mind races, hoping to maybe see him on her shift tomorrow. the daydreaming causes her to trip. thankfully, she caught herself before eating shit, not without attracting the attention of the cameron boy, though. his hands shooting out to her shoulders and steadying her.

“you good?”

she smiles sheepishly, smoothing down her hair. twee nods and looks down at her shoes, frowning at the scuff on the leather of her new shoes. goddamnit. when she looks up at him again, eyes squinting in the setting sun, rafe feels his own smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“sorry— was just… thinking…” she trails off slightly.

rafe actually huffs out a laugh, and she becomes more embarrassed than before. her grimace makes his grin soften.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah? s’all good.”

her little grin is adorable and rafe trails his eyes down her body when she turns to retrieve something from her cart. miles of smooth skin disappearing underneath that short skirt, he can just barely see the lace edge of her panties, until her dainty hand reaches back and pulls the skirt down a little.

“glad you caught me then—“

his eyes snap up back to hers when she turns around with what he assumes is her purse, smirking and crossing his arms. her playfulness isn’t lost on rafe and he finds himself reciprocating, flirting.

“oh, so it’s a habit of yours to trip into eligible bachelors?”

she giggles and rafe knows he’s in.

he sets his jaw, noticing her looking up at him through those dark lashes. she leans back against the cart and crosses one ankle over the other. rafe’s eyes are drawn to the movement and trail slowly up her legs. when he meets her eyes again, she has a knowing smile on her cute face.

“bet you, uh, get a lotta these dudes in trouble, huh?”

the way she cocks her head to the side, an innocent gleam in her eyes, makes his shorts feel just that much tighter. her voice is soft and unsure when she replies, “whaddaya mean?”

rafe shrugs, smiling lazily and scratching his ear. “pretty thing like you workin’ here… dunno, ‘m sure it makes it hard to focus on golf…”

her huff paired with an eye roll makes his chest swell. he can see the smile she’s biting back and chuckles, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“y’know i— i gotta see you somewhere other than here, if you wanna…” he mumbles lowly, holding the device out.

“y’gonna get me fired, rafe…” she teases.

his name has never sounded so good. rafe places his other hand hand over his heart, grinning at the giggle she lets out at his dramatic gesture.

“i promise, kid, swear on m’life. just one date?”

he’s putting on the works, he knows; charming smirk and narrowing eyes. but, twee is just a girl, in every sense of the word. so when she walks off after giving him her number, hundred dollar tip the handsome boy said was ‘all f’you’ tucked into her bra strap and a promise to text him her work schedule, she can’t hide the smile growing on her face.

rafe can’t hide his either, shaking his head and stuffing his phone back in the pocket of his golf shorts. walking out to his truck, he can’t think of anything else but the apple hairclip she was wearing and that little grin that made his heart stutter.

[toournextadventure]

movie night pt ii

Summary: After your previous movie night was disrupted by Sam, you finally manage to get a real date with Tara. Or so you thought.

Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: swearing, mentions of stabbings, suggestive themes Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

"I demand a do over," you said as you sat directly opposite Tara in the little café.

"It's not my fault you got caught," she said without looking up from her textbook. "I agreed to one movie, nothing more."

"Okay, then no movie," you said.  "Go on a date with me."

"And they say romance is dead."

"Please go on a date with me," you corrected.

Tara sighed and looked up at you with bored, beautiful eyes. It wasn’t like you could blame her; you had been annoying her since you had been unceremoniously kicked out of the apartment by Sam. But the least she could do was humour you. It wasn’t your fault Sam had come home early and cockblocked you both.

You leaned forward on the table. “One date,” you said softly.

Tara leaned forward too until you could feel her breath on your lips. “You said that about the movie,” she replied just as softly before leaning back once again.

“Why won’t you go on a date with me?” You asked with a huff.

And just like that, Tara got silent. Not the “I’m ignoring you” type of silence she usually had around you, but a genuine silence. One that you weren’t entirely sure how to deal with. Your family was rather loud and rambunctious, and that was on purpose, so whenever someone was silent you were at a loss. Did you crack a joke? Ask what was wrong? Change the subject?

The longer the silence went on, the more your palms started to sweat. Through all the teasing and bickering between you both, did Tara genuinely not enjoy being around you? Sure, she played it off and still kept you around, but was it just because she was being polite? Did she share the same sentiments as her sister?

“I was just kidding,” you finally said with a humourless chuckle as you leaned back in the booth and picked up your coffee. “You don’t actually have to-”

“-I’ll go.”

“What?” You asked, nearly choking on your coffee.

Tara looked up at you. “I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Seriously?” You asked.

“Don’t make me say it again,” she said with a huff and the smallest crinkle at the corner of her eyes.

“You’re agreeing because you want to go, right?” You asked, your eyes still glued to her face even though she wasn’t sparing you a second glance. “Not because you-”

“-oh my god, do you want me to go or not?”

“Yes I do,” you said as quickly as you could manage.

“Good,” Tara said with an exasperated nod of her head before she started packing up her things. “We can go after our media class tomorrow.”

“Wait but I don’t-”

“-this is your one chance,” she said with a pointed look and a move toward the front door. “Don’t blow it.”

“Tara!”

“See you in class!”

And just like that, she was gone and you were stuck at the table with a cup of coffee you didn’t even want and your stomach twisted into knots. This whole situation was your fault, of course, but you would never admit it. Your determination ramped up instantly. You were going to make this the best first date. It was going to be so perfect that even Tara fucking Carpenter would have to admit it.

“Do you try to sound as stupid as possible?” Tara asked when you held the classroom door open for her to leave.

“You’re just mad because I refuted your theory about one of my favourite movies,” you argued back before stepping in line beside her.

It had been a good class and, though you wouldn’t admit it aloud, you had done your best to rile Tara up. You couldn’t help it, she just got so passionate and then she would wave her hands and her facial expressions gave her away. Everything about it was adorable, and you didn’t care if you had to sound like an idiot to make it happen.

Although you weren’t an idiot and you were right about your theory.

“You need to improve your movie tastes,” Tara said once you were both walking down the steps of the Liberal Arts building and out into the quad. It was a beautiful day.

“My movie taste is flawless, thank you very much,” you said. Her knuckles brushed against your thigh, sending a jolt across your skin. “You’re just an elitist snob when it comes to media.”

“Elitist snob, huh?” She asked with a nonchalant nod of her head. “That’s really how you want to start this date?”

Shit.

“So where to, your highness?” You asked, completely ignoring her question and keeping your head up. She could humiliate you, but you were at least going to try and keep your dignity intact.

“You’re the one who wanted the date,” Tara said; her knuckles brushed against your hand this time. You suspected she was doing it on purpose. “You lead the way.”

Fuck. She was insufferable. God you were obsessed with her.

Wait.

“Come on,” you said with a giddy smile as you reached out and grabbed her left hand. She flinched but quickly settled. “I know a place.”

“Sounds like something a creep would say,” she mumbled, but still let you pull her along with you. 

“You’re the one who entrusted me with the date,” you said as you started dodging between people and cars that honked at you both even though they were still in park. “So shut up and come on.”

“If you get us killed and prove Sam right, I’m never going to forgive you,” she said but still followed suit.

“Sam thinks I’ll get us killed?” You asked when you slowed down, finally only a block or so away from your final destination.

“Yes she does,” Tara said with pursed lips and a nod. “Even called you a liability.”

“Well now that’s just rude,” you grumbled, but otherwise kept silent.

You pushed open the door to the abandoned building and pulled Tara until she walked in. With only a glance outside, you let the door click shut behind you. Your hand placed itself on the small of her back until you could lead her further into the building, quickly making your way to the empty arena.

“What is this place?” Tara asked as she stepped away from your touch to look around.

“Some sort of indoor sports arena, I think,” you called out on your way to the wall where you kept a projector screen. “Don’t know for sure, but it’s been abandoned for ages.”

“You brought a Woodsboro survivor to an abandoned building?” Tara asked. You froze. “Maybe Sam was right.”

“I… did not think that through,” you said as you turned to look at her. “We can go if you want.”

“It’s okay,” Tara said before walking closer, stopping when she was directly in front of you. “It’s a thing of the past.”

Was it though? As much as Sam hated you, you knew she meant well. She was traumatised, understandably, by her sister getting attacked three times and having to kill hers and her sister’s partners. That was enough to make anyone paranoid, and even with Sam going to therapy, it was evident that it still haunted her.

You weren’t so sure it didn’t still haunt Tara too.

“I’ve got stuff in my bag,” you said with a gesture toward the small duffle you had left on the floor. “I’ll set up the movie if you set everything else up.”

“Deal,” she said with a small smile that had your stomach doing somersaults.

It only took a few minutes to finish getting everything set up. For the first time, you were genuinely thankful to your dad for getting you the small portable projector. Sure you had used it before, but now you were going to use it to hopefully make it the best date ever. Failure was not an option.

“Pick a movie,” you said when you sat back down beside Tara and handed over your phone. “I won’t change it this time.”

“That a promise?” She asked, but took your phone nonetheless and started scrolling through.

She barely even looked through the plethora of movies on your phone before picking one and starting it. You raised your brow at her when you heard the beginning notes of Titanic playing, but kept quiet. If she wanted to put on a cheesy romance movie then you weren’t going to judge.

Tara quickly laid back on the blankets and pillows she had gotten out of your duffle bag, and you followed suit almost immediately after she was settled. The small space between you both vanished after only a few moments when Tara rolled onto her side and rested her head on your chest. Your breath caught in your throat before you exhaled and got comfortable.

“You picked a cheesy movie,” you said eventually as the movie continued to play.

“I figured you would like the score,” she said without looking at you. Her hand was now resting underneath the hem of your shirt while her fingers scratched your hip. “Since you’re a nerd for that kind of thing.”

“Uh huh,” you said; your own hand was rubbing small circles on her back. “I think you just wanted an excuse to watch a romantic movie.”

“Oh please,” she huffed. “Romance? With you around? You wish.”

“I most certainly do not,” you retorted quickly. “If I wanted romance I would find someone else.”

“You don’t think I’m romantic?” Tara said, finally sitting up just enough to turn her head and look at you. Her hand still stayed pressed to the stretch of exposed skin on your hip.

“No I don’t,” you said, your eyes stuck on hers. She was staring into your very soul and you didn’t want her to stop. “I think you’re a brat who knows how to get what she wants.”

“And what do you think I want?” She asked, now resting her chin on your chest, right over your heart that you knew she could feel racing.

She was teasing you, you knew that much. It was in the well-concealed smile on her lips and the way her eyes stayed locked with yours. Her question gave you pause and you knew you couldn’t answer. Tara had a habit of leading you on and then pushing you away once you were close enough for something to actually happen. If you hadn’t both been drunk at the frat party all those weeks ago, nothing would have ever happened.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, quietly.

Her smile grew slightly as she moved, pushing herself up until she was straddling your waist and looking down at you. The movie continued in the background but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the feel of her small hands splayed across your chest and your hands on her hips as she leaned so close you were breathing the same air.

“Sam can’t interrupt this time,” Tara spoke slowly, her lips barely brushing against your own. “Does anyone else know where this place is?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got caught in your throat when you felt the slightest roll of her hips. It was small, barely noticeable, but you certainly felt it. Had she done it on purpose? She probably had, Tara was cunning. With a singular huff, you closed your mouth and shook your head in the negative.

“Then I know what I want,” she said, and you didn’t have to guess what she meant before she pressed her lips to yours.

You felt more than heard her exhale softly through her nose, the warm air brushing against your cheek. Her lips were soft and tasted of strawberry cheesecake; a chapstick Mindy had admitted to giving her after your first movie night. Her fingers curled in against your chest, and her nails left the most delicious sting.

Both of your hands slid under her shirt, resting on the warm skin of her waist. Your thumb accidentally brushed against one of her scars, leaving her to shiver above you only for a moment before she leaned further into you, her kiss now feverish. You tried it again, brushing your thumb over the scar with a gentleness you usually kept reserved. In return, her nails dug deeper into your chest and she lightly bit your bottom lip until you let out a small groan.

She leaned in to kiss you again as her hands left your chest. With the warmth gone, you wanted to pull them back until she grabbed your own hands. Your breath caught in your throat again as she guided your hands up her sides, pushing her shirt up until you could feel the lace of her bra. She let go of your hands before grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her own head, tossing it onto the blanket beside you.

You wanted her to sit up so you could look at her, admire every inch of skin currently exposed to you. The frat party had been so crazy, and you had both been so drunk, you hadn’t been able to even look at her. Then Sam had interrupted before you had gotten the chance. Now was the perfect time. 

You tried to pull back, pushing her softly with your hands so you could see, but her hands quickly flew to your cheeks to hold you still. Her lips found yours again and refused to let you go. As much as you loved kissing her and feeling her hands on your skin, you just wanted to get the chance to see her every curve and freckle and scar.

“Let me see you,” you mumbled against her lips, but she was already shaking her head before you could finish.

“Just kiss me,” she said; she didn’t give you much of a choice before leaning in once again.

When her hands held your face a little tighter, you knew she wasn’t going to give in. And as much as you wanted to admire her, you would let her make the choices this time. Besides, there were other ways you could admire her. Your hands went around her back to find the clasp of her bra, and even though you were no professional, it only took you a little bit of fumbling before the straps fell down her shoulders.

Tara removed the useless bra as quickly as she had her shirt, and even though you tried to look at her for even a second, her hands found your face once again. It would have been comical how much she didn’t want you to see her if you hadn’t been so distracted with her soft skin against your fingertips.

With feather light touches, you dragged your fingers across her skin until you could brush your knuckles against the side of her breasts. She exhaled through her nose again, but you didn’t move. If she wouldn’t pull away long enough for you to look at her, then you weren’t going to make a move without her say so. You just wondered how long it would take her before she-

-a door slammed shut.

You sat up quickly, nearly knocking Tara off your lap in the process. With wide eyes, you looked around the empty room, scanning for the source of the noise. It had sounded like the outside door, but that didn’t make any sense. In all your years of visiting the abandoned building, no one had ever come in.

Titanic continued to play in the background.

“Should we-”

-you cut Tara off with a finger pressed to her lips. You did your best to tune out the movie, listening intently in the direction of the only open door of the building. Focus. It almost sounded like…

“Come on,” you whispered as you grabbed Tara’s hand and pulled her after you. You were still vaguely aware of the fact that she was topless, but as the footsteps came closer, you didn’t care. You could fix that after you pulled her into a closet with you.

The door clicked closed behind your back as you pushed Tara further into the empty equipment closet. You pulled your shirt over your head and handed it to her quickly before pressing your ear to the door, listening for any other sounds of an intruder. Once she had put your shirt on, you felt her body pressed up against yours, listening just as intently.

Through the door, you couldn’t hear footsteps, but you did hear the movie stop suddenly. Tara’s body shook slightly against yours, and you looked down to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes were wide and she was holding her stomach. Where she got stabbed, your brain pieced together.

You continued to listen far after all sounds had vanished from the empty room. No footsteps, no movie, nothing moving around, nothing. Part of you was telling you to stay in the closet; there was no need for anyone to get killed. But you couldn’t stay in there forever…

“What are you doing?” Tara hissed when you grabbed the doorknob.

“I’m gonna make sure they’re gone,” you whispered back.

“Are you stupid?” She asked. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“I grew up in the closet, Tara, I’m not gonna die in one too,” you shot back.

“Please don’t go out there,” she said softly as she reached out to grab your arm. “I don’t want you to go out there.”

The quiver of her bottom lip was enough to break your heart. Try as she might, you knew Tara was still scarred from Woodsboro, both physically and mentally. And you understood, you did, but someone had to be brave for the both of you. There was no way in hell you were going to make her go check for a murderer.

“I’ll be right back,” you said before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Promise.”

You didn’t give her time to argue with you before easing the door open slowly, closing it just as quietly once you were on the other side. Even just the few seconds with your back to the room was enough to have your pulse rushing so fast you were dizzy. But when you turned around, the room was as empty as you had left it.

Each potential hiding spot you knew of was empty. Not the other closets, or the hallway, or behind the bleachers pushed up against the wall. There was no one there, and that both made you feel better and more terrified. But with no one around, you needed to hurry and get Tara and get the hell out of there.

“It’s me,” you said through the door before Tara opened it quickly, throwing her arms around your neck and pressing herself into you.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she said quickly, and you only nodded in agreement before you went over to the pallet and started packing everything up.

It only took a few moments, but Tara was on edge the entire time. She tried to act like she was fine, but you could see the shake of her hands and the glazed over look in her eyes. She wasn’t fine by any means, and that was more than okay, but guilt started to crawl its way up your throat. She kept your shirt on, and you weren’t going to bring it up. Lucky for you, you always kept a jacket in your bag, and you quickly threw it on.

“I’m sorry,” you said once you finally dragged Tara out of the building and back onto the streets. Thankfully the sun was still out, or you swore she would have had a panic attack. “No one has ever come by before.”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly.

“Can I walk you home?” You asked.

She didn’t say anything, but grabbed your hand and held it tight. You took that as a yes and started making your way down the streets of New York, knowing how to get to her apartment by heart. It was a silent trip, but quick, and before you knew it you were standing on the stoop of her apartment building.

“I’m sorry again,” you repeated. “Guess I blew my chance, huh?”

“You didn’t blow it,” Tara said with a quiet sigh. “How about a do over?”

“Seriously?” You asked incredulously.

“Yeah.” She smiled softly. “But no more abandoned buildings.”

“Deal,” you said with your own smile and a light chuckle. “I don’t even think I’m going back for my projector.”

“Get going before Sam sees you,” Tara said as she pushed lightly against your stomach. “I don’t think I can handle her scolding.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said while stepping backwards. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky,” she said before turning around and walking into her apartment building without a second glance.

With a small smile to yourself, you turned around and started the long trek back to your own apartment. You would need to come up with something not quite so risky for the next date. There were only so many do overs she would grant you, and if you got cockblocked one more time, you were going to combust. 

But third time’s the charm, right?

[mugiwara-rosewolf]

Good morning or good evening ! (I don't really know what time it is at your house) how are you? It's been so long 🥺

I loved the first part with sabo (you take your time to write the second part, I'm not here to pressure you or anything, just breathe)

I would just like a headcanons or scenario with the monster trio (especially Sanji-kun of love) where they discover and their reactions when female reader tells them that she is the daughter of a yonko...... Shanks, she is shanks daughter! (I know Luffy will be happy since he likes Shanks) but Zoro and Sanji don't know him! At least. Not personally. And I would like to know their reactions to the three of them. Thank you in advance if you accept 🥺

Hello my dear!

Thank you so much for your patience with the Sabo piece. It makes me so happy to hear you enjoyed the first part. I am about 1/2-way done with part three as we speak, but I want to get that ending *just* right, so it's gonna take a bit longer to finish & publish.

(And if you're interested, I could also do an interlude about Ace and Luffy's POV on that particular request; just DM and let me know ;)

Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy these lovely reaction headcannons/scenarios - Enjoy! :)

***

What's in a Yonko-?

Monster Trio x Red-Hair F! Reader

Warnings: Slight!AU, mild-to-average swearing. The reader has a vague backstory.

Prologue:

You didn't know it then, but part of the reason Shanks stopped in the East Blue all those years ago was to check on you and your mother.

Unfortunately, your mother was not there to greet him - just you and a rambunctious monkey of a boy who proceeded to be your anchor in the storm.

Shanks could not be more grateful that his little girl had found a family there at Party's Bar. But the guilt of leaving you alone...of not being there when you lost your mother...the burden laid heavily on his chest, and he couldn't bring himself to tell you the truth.

Little did our red-haired captain know, but you still had fleeting memories of him. Memories of your father are like shards of glass in the back of your mind, waiting to catch the light. Unfortunately, those little shards of memory would not find the light for some time yet.

More than ten years after Shanks' 'vacation' in Fuschia Village - two years after Sabaody and Marineford and the shattered hearts that came after - you were sailing back to the Archipelago on your own.

It was at the request of your beloved captain that you'd waited this long. If you'd had it your way, you would have carved a path through hell to find him again by the end of those first 3 days. But once you read those headlines and saw Luffy's mourning face on that paper's front page, you couldn't even pick yourself up off the floor.

The sun had nearly set when you came across an island in the distance. With your newly-tuned Haki, you were able to notice a grassy outcropping. Jutting out in a sharp peninsula, you could see two clearly marked monuments at the point of those cliffs, enraptured by fresh flowers. The first monument was dressed in a great white coat like a scarecrow flapping in the wind. Fluttering from the second monument...was a bright orange relic you thought you'd never see again.

Without a second thought, you set course for that island. Barely bothering to moor your boat, you charged up that beach and scrambled for the cliffs as quickly as possible. Your rational mind protested the rush, but your heart was never one to listen. Ace was a part of your heart, just as he was a part of Luffy's. He was your friend, your partner in protecting his troublesome brother from danger. A shoulder to lean on after the death of Sabo.

First Sabo, now Ace...Were you and Luffy truly destined to be alone in the world?

No. You still had your crew. That's what you were going home to. But you had to see this through first. You had to say goodbye to the first family you'd found--one last time.

When you reached the precipice of that cliff, you expected to be alone. But no. What you saw instead had your feet screeching to a halt, startled-stiff in place with a shock you hadn't known since -since Sabo's death, Ace's death, your mother's death...

It was him.

As the sun fell into the sea, it painted the sky with vivid, vibrant watercolours like a bleeding wound across the sky. Crimson bleeding into amber and gold as it rippled with flashes of white on the tide. Silhouetted by all this light - was a familiar black coat.

The coat would have needed to be more on its own, however. The strange figure sitting in front of these memorials, sipping a bottle of sake with the breeze - you might not have known him if not for just that one shard of light. One last ray of sunlight caught crimson hair and set it ablaze.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

Suddenly, it was as if the whole world caught fire behind your eyes:

A pair of children, embers in the wind, slipping on wet sand, laughing at the waves roaring. ‘Hey, wait up!’ Luffy.

A blurry silhouette behind a crackling curtain of flames, a burning shove, a grating scream; ‘Don’t wait, GO!’ Ace.

A last whispered wish shared between a mother and daughter's glassy eyes: 'Set out to sea, my love. You're father's waiting for you...'

It's only then that the man seems to register your presence. His posture straightens, and he turns to look at you, brows furrowed. It appears to be a ready snarl. But at the sight of you, his threatening words falter.

"-Y/N?"

A man turns in the doorway, a smiling crescent moon; ‘Wait for me?’ The sun lights his hair on fire.

Fire. Fire. 

Father.

"Shanks-" the word is a gasp as if the breath had been kicked from your lungs.

"Wait, what are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be -?"

"It's you."

LUFFY

The moment the Red-Haired Pirates dropped you off at Sabaody, you fucking bolted for Shakky's Bar. Beckman already had the drop that Rayleigh would have brought him there first. 'Him', in this case, being Luffy. -And there was no way you would go another second without telling your best friend the good news.

"Luffy-!"

As it turned out, you were the last to arrive. The rest of the crew was gathered together, and all turned to stare at you as soon as you arrived. When the others clocked your presence, many rose from their seats, eager for a reunion embrace, but you forestalled them for the moment.

"Wait, guys, I swear this is important - Luffy-!"

"Y/N-mph?"

You found him chowing down on a ham leg the size of Brooke's afro. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you. Literally bouncing out of his bar stool to coil around you in a rubbery embrace.

"Y/N~! You're back! What took you so long~? I wanna go exploring-!"

"Exploring can wait, Lu-" You struggled to grapple his rubbery cheek away from smothering yours. "Luffy, listen, I found him-"

"Huh? Found who?" Luffy's neck retracted at an awkwardly impossible angle - something possible only with a creature like Luffy. He must've caught something about the light in your (e/c) gaze - cause suddenly, his own eyes widened.

"Yeah, him." You affirmed with a nod of your head. "And you'll never guess who it is-"

"Who? Who, who, who, tellme-tellme-tellme--"

You responded by simply flicking the straw hat off the brim of his head. "Who was the last one to wear this hat? Do you remember?"

For the first time in perhaps the entire time you'd known him - Monkey D. Luffy was perfectly still. Silent. The shock absorbed inside his rubber body instead of bouncing off like everything else did. You held your breath, observing him for a reaction.

Mere moments later, everything about him lit up like fireworks. Luffy gasped aloud, eyes sparkling. "Really-?!"

You nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "You'd better believe it..."

Luffy snapped out of your arms, whooping, cheering, and leaping into the air. All the other Strawhats around them glanced at one another, confused as to what was happening between their captain and Quartermaster. But, as always, Luffy's enthusiasm was contagious. When the Straw Hat captain leapt back into his best friend's arms, babbling incoherent excitement with those overflowing starbursts in his eyes, you and the crew couldn't help but celebrate with him. By all rights, your dream was accomplished. You'd found your family - your father and crew, your nakama - out there on the sea.

"YAHOO~! This is the coolest day ever~! We've gotta celebrate!"

Zoro approaches you after the initial reveal/celebration at Shakky's Bar, which will likely be sometime on the Sunny (after Fishman Island...?). Don't get him wrong, he'll take any chance to eat, drink and be merry - but he was still confused AF about what went down.

From his perspective, you came bursting through the doors - after not seeing anyone in that room for the better half of two years - and made a B-line for their captain. During this time, you were attacked in one of Luffy's infamous boa-constrictor hugs, only to exchange a few words, flick the tip of Luffy's straw hat--and suddenly, their captain was absolutely exploding with happiness.

Which, again, is not in and of itself a bad thing. Especially after the shit their captain had to go through these past two years, Zoro firmly of the belief that Luffy deserved any and all happiness he could get. But the point still stood. He wanted to know why. What the big deal was. Yes, usually, he kept his nose out of other people's business. But this was you. Even after all this time, to a certain extent, he found you to be more mysterious than Robin was back in her 'Miss All-Sunday' days. Nami just claimed that he was hopeless with women. And damn that witch, but maybe she was right...

Still, Zoro was no chicken. And if he had questions, he would get his answers, no matter what.

"Oi! Y/N."

"Hm?" You glance over at him from your place at the railing. The sea breeze toying with your (h/c) hair in a way that would not have been half as distracting as it was. "Oh, Zoro! There you are-! I've been meaning to tell you that you were awesome back there. By the way, what happened to your-"

"Not important." Zoro breezed past your words before you finished your question. Or, more accurately, before you could tell, his skin was far too warm talking to you. "What was that back there? At the old hag's bar? What did you tell Luffy that he was so excited about?"

"O-oh," Now he wasn't the only one with redness in his face. He took a strange satisfaction in that thought. You rubbed at the back of your neck with that sheepish smile you sometimes got when you were embarrassed about something. Zoro bit back the pit-deep urge to cut his teeth on it. "I, uh, well - I was just telling Luffy I found'em..."

"Found them?" Zoro's brow furrowed. His lonely eye narrow and sharp, his lips rolling into a firm line at the potential prospects. "...Found who?"

"My family."

Zoro blinked. He didn't know why he stopped breathing.

"I-I mean, my birth family, not just-" You motioned generally to the Sunny, including all the crew scattered about above and below decks, doing their own thing.

"Oh." Zoro didn't know what else to say. He knew your dream had something to do with your deceased mother. Some sort of promise, kind of like what he made to Kuina. But as an orphan himself, who'd had no prior stake in what a birth family was like...he supposed some of the gravity of your...goal? Your promise? Your dream being fulfilled was innately lost on him. "And...who's that, exactly?"

At that, you couldn't help but smile: "Red-Haired Shanks. Yonkou of the Sea."

All at once, every one of Mihawk's dry and pouting complaints about his 'long-lost eternal rival' came rushing back to him. Wine-drunk fireside painting the picture of his once fearsome opponent now washed up with a bottle somewhere, hardly half the man he used to be. It wasn't until Perona finally did some snooping in Mihawks personal effects that they found out the name of the gothic-dramatic swordsman's 'eternal rival'. --And then got a look at his bounty.

Zoro's mind blanked and scrambled like white noise on a Den-Den Mushi. "You've gotta be shitting me..."

It took some convincing for Zorro to believe that, YES, you were indeed serious. This wasn't just some long-con prank. That 'armless washup' he'd been lectured about by 'some vampire' was indeed your father by blood. And yes, he really was all that.

After all that explanation and hassle, you only wanted to soothe your oncoming headache with a nice cup of tea in the galley. The evening was starting to fall on the horizon as you stepped through the swinging doors. -Only to find a sight you hadn't known you'd missed as much as you had until it was right there before your eyes.

Sanji....

The one person you'd missed almost as much in your travels as you'd missed Zoro and Luffy. Missing Ace as a given. You'd given him as a part of your life, almost as close to your heart as Luffy's. The three of you had grown up together, after all. After Shanks' visit to Fuschia Village, Luffy, Ace and Sabo were the closest you could find to a tight-knit family. -Then Sabo died. Then Ace went off on his big adventure at seventeen. A few years left with Luffy, and then it was your turn.

That was how you'd found your way to the Baratie. Shipwrecked by a whirlpool, you'd escaped in a barrel and washed up beside the floating restaurant. Young and more malnourished than you'd thought you were, you were able to skate under the radar and pretend to be a boy. It was the only way Chef Zeff would hire you. The only way you could either a) save up for a new 'ship' or b) hedge your bets in hopes Luffy would be lured in by the rumour of food and come to find you. --And, of course, you should've known Plan B was the one that would come through in the end. Luffy was nothing if not reliable in his own way.

Between your shipwreck and Luffy's bombastic arrival on the Baratie, the one and perhaps closest friend you'd made among the cooking staff -much to their surprise - was the owners 'son'. The tempermental sous chef Sanji. The remaining fighting cooks didn't know this then, nor would they swallow their pride unless necessary to learn. But from your experience, neither would he, as long as you did not approach then-teenaged Sanji with hyper-masculine abrasiveness.

Sanji was kind.

And now...now he was a man. Parted his hair to the other side from what you were used to - with stubble and a goatee. You could hardly believe your eyes when you first saw the change. Years had now passed since you two first met. Sanji had long since discovered your true identity as a woman-by-birth. And for a while there, your entire dynamic was completely unrecognizable. You weren't sure where you stood with him for a while there. And now...after over two years apart...it felt like you were stepping out on thin ice all over again. Afraid to take another step into the galley if the floorboards crack beneath your feet and you'd fall through to the bottom of the ocean.

Fortunately - or unfortunately - for you, Sanji spotted you before you could impulsively decide to retreat. The moment he did - his eyes lit up like the reflection of sunlight on the ocean. You were anchored to the spot when you caught that light. Your heart squeezed. There was no escaping him now...

"Y/N-chan~!" Sanji exclaimed, pirouetting mid-sautee to come and greet you where you stood. "How honoured I am that you would come to visit me, mon cherie~" He crooned, his heart practically throbbing in his eyes. "Tell me, what can I do for you, my dear? A bite to eat? A spot of tea, perhaps? Anything my darling Y/n-chan desires-"

"Sanji..." You sighed, hanging your head. Even knowing his theatrics was a part of expressing his love and care - didn't stop the embarrassed blush from flushing across your face whenever that intense spotlight was focused on you. But instead of protesting, you simply caved. "You know me so well..."

To your surprise, he set an already-prepared cup and saucer at one of the barstools along the galley island. You blinked. Catching your bewildered gaze, Sanji simply huffed out a knowing smile.

"Noticed you getting annoyed with the dense mosshead out there-" He said, motioning out the galley window with his chin. "Figured you might need to smooth over what a headache that bastard is-"

"Ey," You scolded, wagging a finger at him even as your lips threatened to twitch into a smile at his petty quips. "Be nice...."

Sanji scoffed. "Yea, yea..." You caught the curious (dare you say potentially jealous-?) glint in his eyes - practically predicting the question before it could even leave his lips. "So," Sanji cleared his throat, straightening his posture as if he wasn't awkward as fuck prodding into someone else's business. "...what were you do talking about anyway?"

You couldn't help but snort. This boy...you chuckled to yourself, with almost sickening levels of affection hidden by the voice inside your head. "Oh, he was wondering about what Luffy was so happy about, when I met up with y'all at Shakky's Bar."

"Oh~?" Sanji lit a cigarette. He was really bad at hiding the fact that he was curious. -If he was even trying to be discrete in the first place...

Anothe soft chuckle under your breath. "You remember that night in Water Seven? When we both figured out we were holding onto promises to our mothers-?"

Sanji stilled. His back now turned to you, the pans before him continued to sizzle at the stove -but for a moment it semed as if the tass before im were forgotten. His mind thrown back into memory until he had no choice but to look back and nod. "Yea..."

"Well..." You stirred a bit of milk and sugar in your tea, as you always did.

When you first revealed your identity, Sanji had tried to do all those little things for you. That is, until you admitted to liking the clouds that would plume when you did it yourself. When at long last you met his gaze - the rising breath in your chest was like a helium balloon rising to meet the dark night sky in his eyes.

"I kept my promise."

Sanji turned the stove off completely. All of a sudden his dark, brilliant gaze was 1,000% focused on you. "You found him...your father."

You nodded.

The blond cook swallowed, corners of his lips pulling taut around the edges. You had always had this sort of gut feeling that Sanji had mixed feelings about fathers. His seething hot-n-hotter-tempered relationship with Zeff was only one facet of this. You had yet to hear the whole story, but you'd never pressed for it. Just as Sanji never asked for more than you were willing to give.

"...Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked.

You nodded. "I wanna see if you know who it is," You said, again with that itching to smile you could never suppress now knowing who your father - the ellusive heart of your lifelong dream - truly was.

"Okay. Give me a hint?" He suprised you, being willing to play your little game. "I know it has something to do with Luffy's hat, right?"

"Huh-?" You blinked. Sometimes you forgot just how perceptive the effusive cook could be. "Y-yea, you're right. Damn, there goes one clue."

"Two more," Sanji established. "Then I have to guess. Alright?"

"Alright," You couldn't help for smiling now. "Hint two: amputee pirate."

Sanji snorted. "Of course you'd have pirate in your blood. You and Luffy are both too reckless thrillseekers."

You grinned unabashedly at that. "Alright, hint number three--billion berry bounty."

"Huh...ex-strawhat owner...amputee pirate...billion berry bounty-? Wha-" Something must've clicked inside Sanji's head. His jaw went slack, cigarette drooping limp between his fingers. "No..." True, you could have made the hints even more obvious than that. - But you knew Sanji didn't need it. He knew exactly who it was just from the way you smiled.

"Your father's a bloody YONKOU of the SEA-?!"

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 36

PREV

The Smiths had been a happy family.

A happy couple and three happy healthy children. Their first born son 2 years into a blissful marriage, a second born son 4 years in and the third, a first born daughter 7 years in.

They spent most holidays with his Mother’s large rambunctious family but his grandma on his father’s side and her mother were always invited to any family event.

“The more the merrier.” He had heard more than one aunt or uncle say. “We know that Gavin is an only child, we don’t want to leave you alone.” They would say to his Gran. Cousins playing, laughing, rough housing, and screaming. Family friends with their own kids stopping in. The adults who could cook cranking food out happy to feed people.

The more the merrier is something FF believed with all his heart.

FF loved being an older brother.

He loved them from the moment he knew they existed. Had wanted to meet them instantly. Waiting to meet Jay and then Robin had been the longest time of his life. Meeting both of them were two of the happiest moments in FF’s entire life.

Robin had loved to reach up and pinch at his face.

Nose, ears, or even cheeks his little sister had loved to clamp her fingers around it. He used to talk when she’d do it on his nose, purposefully sounding more nasally as he talked to her as she giggled wildly. It was her favorite game in the entire world and FF had always been willing to play it with her.

Jay fell asleep against his shoulders without fail on every single car ride.

Slight weight, drool, and tiny hands that always wanted to hold his arm like a pillow. He was getting big had denied that he did that with pure horror every time FF would ask him if he was going to take a nap. Yet FF very rarely made it to a far off destination without a little bit of drool on an outfit. FF had never cared, trying not to laugh too hard with Robin as she giggled so that he wouldn’t dislodge Jay.

His gran would pinch his cheek and tell him how good he was.

A good older brother.

The happy couple wanted more kids. Wanted a bigger and bigger family. His mom wanted what she knew, his dad wanted what he never had, FF wanted more siblings.

He always felt like he had gotten his wish, but only in the worst way he could have.

His mom and dad were fighting. They were driving home from the supermarket; he vaguely remembers that. He doesn’t remember what started the fight but he remembers how Jay and Robin moved in close to him. She was pointing at him and FF doesn’t remember what she said but he remembers her hands reaching and then-

His face hurt, his ear hurt, he looked over and Jay was asleep just like he always was but he doesn’t look right. He looks and Robin is there reaching for him but she can’t reach him. “I’m scared.” She had said his name, pleading and terrified. Her face was bruised, cut, and she had a burn that looked painful.

He lied to her.

He didn’t know it at the time, but he did.

He reached out and he couldn’t touch her face, but he held her tiny hand in his own, looked her in the eyes, and lied.

“It’s going to be okay; I promise.”

Then he woke up and that hand wasn’t the one in his anymore. The world is muted but somehow his grandma’s red eyes and pale skin stand out to him. He asks what happened and she tells him.

Things don’t get better.

His mom swears his dad tried to kill them all that he swerved so they’d all die together. He can’t corroborate that story; he just remembers her hand reaching and-

How do you ask your mom if she tried to kill you?

She must see the question in his eyes regardless. Must figure that if he can’t feel anything, can’t cry, can’t emote, can’t go and lay between his sibling’s graves in the middle of the night then maybe he’ll never ask the question and she’ll never have to answer.

He learned to live not knowing and maybe his mom learned that he was a coward.

His mom’s family don’t treat him the same. He won’t denounce his father and they look at him with pity and Daniel whispers poison into his cousins’ ears until they act like he killed Robin and Jay personally.

He can’t react.

Can’t plead with his cousins to understand.

Daniel would spin it and FF would find himself on the meds again. So, he got good at pretending. He got good at faking. He got good at everything that was needed to pretend like he didn’t have a care.

Then Coach Wymack and Captain Dan Wilds were there.

He’d been getting better.

Now Daniel was here.

Nicky tucked him into bed and he tried to sleep. Even feigned it well enough for Nicky to leave and to get startled by the shouting that shortly followed.

Daniel was going to stay.

Daniel was going to try to be on the same team.

Daniel was smart, strong, and very athletic.

Daniel was going to be on the same team.

He hears when Abby and his Gran come back, and someone must have mentioned that Daniel was there to his Grandma because she comes in and tells him that it will be okay. He puts on a brave face for her, and she kisses his cheek.

He lays there in bed and stares at the ceiling feel flushed and hot with anxiety.

He gets up and walks to the fridge and finds himself frozen there.

“Smith,” Bee’s voice rings in his ears as he had tried to keep pushing everything down. “Smith, there is only so much you can bottle up and repress.” She reached out and held his hand comfortingly because touch always made him feel like he was on earth.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” he had asked, ashamed.

“Smith, you’ll have to process it. Feel what you repressed and then after you’ve felt it maybe you can let it go.” Bee had said.

He had avoided taking her advice so far, it hadn’t felt safe, and it had been too much, too scary.

Nicky’s face comes into his vision, “Smithy?” he asks and there is concern that FF hadn’t felt worthy of. “C’mon bud. Let’s get you under the covers.” His friend says.

They get to the guest room and FF crumbles. His face in Nicky’s shoulder and when Nicky asks if he can hold him while he sleeps FF nods and holds on as tight as he can. Nicky’s hand finds his back, “It’s okay Smithy, I’m right here. We won’t let that asshole mess with you. You’re safe.” Nicky had promised and-

and it’s enough.

He relaxes against Nicky and he feels safe.

So, he decides to process it.

“Dig in!” Abby said not bothering with grace. It was good. FF still missed his grandma’s cooking. It was nice to have this loud Thanksgiving like he used to get but there was something special about helping his grandma in the kitchen and the two of them sitting down to eat. He missed events with his mom’s family. Loud and boisterous and his Gran welcomed and loved by everyone there. It was special to have his time with his grandma, but he wishes it could be with his cousins and his siblings still.

It’s okay to be nostalgic.

He lets himself process it.

Captain Neil was up front and had started  to play some music. Nicky and Aaron were conked out before they had even reached the entrance to the interstate. They had also slumped onto FF with Aaron asleep on his shoulder as Nicky drooled into his hair. “You can just shove them off.” Andrew said. “It’s fine.” FF said and had reminisced about the last time he’d had something like this. How maybe Jay would be this big, would he be tall like Nicky or shorter like Aaron? Would Robin be big? Would she still want to squeeze his nose and ask him to talk?

It wasn’t a bad thought, just one that hurt to consider.

He lets himself process it.

Aaron looked at him with a twisted mouth for a while before he relented, “Fine they’re not that bad. It’s a big brother thing.” Aaron rolled his eyes. FF swallowed down some acid in his throat and had pushed the smiling eggs and bacon over to Aaron who smiled back at the breakfast and proceeded to eat it. A big brother thing. FF used to be one of those but, unlike Aaron, he hadn’t managed to protect his siblings. Aaron was a good big brother and FF only had the memory of being one.

It hurt and maybe it wasn’t just his great grandma he had reached out to when he had baked those brownies. They had always always been Jay’s favorite.

Two kids hadn’t moved as the rest of the world continued to. He watched as they clung to one another, and no one seemed to take notice of them. He didn’t understand how anyone could mess them with the bright orange children’s jerseys they had on. One sporting 01 – Josten and the other 10 – Josten on the backs. He had said something to Nicky and then he was squatted down in front of them. A big brother and a little sister with a burn. He’s glad to see them off safely. Glad they’re safe and that Millie is smiling at him like he hung the stars because he got her an autograph from Captain Neil. Glad to watch Brandon be lifted up by his father. He hopes they get home safe.

They didn’t even look that much like Jay and Robin but it had made him happy.

There were other moments, small moments that had hurt that he bottled up but those didn’t take much time to process though.

He finishes processing and lets himself come back to the present.

Something tastes good in his mouth.

“…put the knife away!!” he hears Nicky yelling and looks up to find that Nicky is hiding behind Matt Boyd in Abby’s backyard.

“Just tell me where my car is Nicholas!” Andrew says advancing on Nicky with a knife drawn.

“Can we not do this with me in the middle?” Matt pleads.

“He won’t stab you so you’re the safest thing to hide behind!” Nicky exclaims.

“Where. Is. My. Car?” Andrew hisses.

“Look, I’m just saying that until that asshole is off the campus….maybe it’s for the best that you don’t have access to your car?” Nicky asks pleadingly.

“What the fuck is he drinking?!” He turns as he hears Kevin nearby.

“Milkshake, it’s fine. Doesn’t Smiths deserve something that is not one of your dogshit smoothies?” Aaron asks and he’s standing between Kevin and FF. He sees one of Kevin’s smoothies in the starting striker’s hands.

“It’s not fine!” Kevin hisses. “I didn’t approve of it!” he flails one arm.

“Kevin,  you’re not actually his doctor.” Captain Neil says, “Andrew, maybe put the knife away before people call the cops on you?” Captain Neil asks pleadingly.

“I’ll put it away once Nicky tells me where he put my car.” Andrew demands.

“We just barely avoided you going to jail a couple weeks ago Andrew. I just don’t want you to do something that would result in you being there on vehicular manslaughter charges!” Nicky pled from behind Matt.

“I wouldn’t crash the Maserati just to kill him.” Andrew is facing towards them, and FF can see him roll his eyes.

“I think they’re more worried that you’ll just run him over if you see him dude.” Matt says.

FF realizes belatedly that he’s sucking on a straw to an empty milkshake only when a wrinkled hand takes it from him and puts a hot drink in his hands instead. He looks and sees his grandma smiling at him.

He looks down and-

Oh, hot chocolate. This is nice.

He takes a sip.

Oh, his grandma’s hot chocolate.

Delightful.

He watches as his Grandma makes her way towards where Andrew and Nicky were continuing to run around a resigned looking Matt.

Andrew is stopped as his Grandma hands him a cup of hot chocolate filled to the brim with marshmallows. He blinks at the offering but takes it stopping his hot pursuit of Nicky.

“Jesteś moim ulubieńcem” she says. (“You’re my favorite now.”)

Nicky makes a noise like he’s dying. “Aras!” he cries dramatically.

“Got something to say about the drink from his Gran?” Aaron asks.

“No…” Kevin says petulantly. “…but he should leave room. I formulated a new healthier smoothie that tastes good.” Kevin says holding up his smoothie.

“Doesn’t taste like ass is more accurate.” Matt says walking over now that Nicky was immobilized by his despair and Andrew was enjoying hot chocolate. “Sorry Smithster, we’re still working on getting it up to ‘tastes good’.” He says apologetically clapping FF on the shoulder.

“Fat chance of that with Kevin’s sensibilities with flavor.” Aaron says rolling his eyes. “More accurate to say lack of sensibility.” He adds after a second.

“Don’t be rude, you ran off without even warning me.” Matt points at Aaron.

"You ran off?!" Kevin demands.

FF can’t help it.

He laughs.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka x Narrator & Sam Kiszka x OC.

Chapter One

Summary: The Jones Family are new additions to the sleepy community of Beech Run. A tight knit scattering of rural houses, where everyone knows everyone. Deeply religious and overbearingly strict, the daughters of the family are kept under lock & key by a fanatical Father and submissive Mother. They watch from bedroom windows as their neighbours, The Kiszkas, draw intense curiosity and desire to be free. Madness of youth , hope & obsession collide to bring the danger of forbidden love to poetic ends. (Era A/U)

A/N: I want to dedicate this fic to all my beautiful friends who have loved and supported me through what could only be described as a difficult time. Their belief in me as a person, who tries to be good even though I'm prone to making hellish mistakes, has been unwavering and as such I wanted to create a piece of writing that I felt they would enjoy and immerse themselves in. So, this ones for you @writingcold @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @katuschka @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @gretavangroupie and everyone else who has been with me on this journey.

Warnings: Religious trauma. Parental trauma. Intense emotions including desire, obsession, grief and yearning. Loss of virginity. Explicit sexual activity. Heavy praise kink. Severe edging. Oral sex m/f. Fingering. Masturbation. Dirty filth talk.

Summer 1984

The Kiszka's were like catching that scent of freshly cut grass on warm summer air. Nostalgic for something I'd never had. Books that I dare not open because my love for the cover meant that I was too afraid to start something I knew I'd never be able to put down. They were Sunday morning distractions, like I'd never known a day without putting my hand to glass and letting their chaos drift in through the open window.

The first time I saw them I didn't know the sound of laughter could make my heart want to die. The sort of rambunctious envy I felt was a thief to any joy I might have found, standing in the dust as I carried boxes into the new house. Theirs was a summer of freedom. And mine was like trying to find solace in the darkness.

The girl was pretty when she smiled. I thought, perhaps, in some other life she and I could have been friends. Sometimes I imagined it, that she would knock on our door and ask for me by name. A delusion I centred within myself whenever I saw her ride by on the yellow push bike that was always leaning against their porch steps. The boys weren't like that, though. No part of me could imagine myself in that wild entanglement. Fires and swearing, ripping their shirts off in the midday heat to wrestle in the dirt. Guitars littering their garage door, riffs that drifted in on the wind making me want to rise from the doldrums.

It just wasn't like that for us. Any hope that I'd carried into Beech Run was dashed the moment my Father shook hands with the patriarch of our neighbours, and immediately insisted that we weren't to go near those people. Godless and bohemian. Without decency. Without enough fear of a faceless, impalpable being that seemed to rule over nobody save for us.

He was a pastor and we paid for that dearly. With our curfews and our diligence and our punishments if we didn't honour God precisely how we should. I stopped believing that an almighty power would have chosen this life for me a long time ago, but nothing felt more certain until we moved to Beech Run. Only the devil would have put us next to the Kiszka's.

"They're so pretty."

Jolene was sitting on the windowsill, playing with her hair as she admired them. She had that faraway look in her eye that most girls had when they were seventeen. Romanticising them, giving them entirely fictionalised morals and wondering what her name would sound like on their lips.

"Come away from the window." I warned, the torture of it something I had already decided I would not endure all summer.

She would bite down on her lip and sway against the glass. Insufferable. Lost in a sea of their sweaty bodies tearing across the front lawn, having water fights and jam sessions in the garage. All the things we were denied. She and I, lumbered with reading lists and prayer groups that made me want to rip out my immortal soul and offer it to the highest bidder.

"The tall one, he looks as if he might sweep you off your feet. He keeps tucking his hair behind his ear, I think I'd like to do that for him."

No good would come of it. I could see the whispering angels and demons perched on my sister's shoulders. Consorting with her. The fathomless ages of young girls who had come before her in their tragic echoes, doomed to desire and the shadow of a breaking heart hanging above her head.

"Come." I encouraged, "Sit and read with me a while. And then shall we see if Ben will take us into town?"

The freedoms allowed to our brother were tantamount to our lack of it. He was the eldest and therefore had the privileges of that. He was male, and existed in a world that Jolene and I did not encompass. Sometimes he would take pity on us and drive us into town to get an ice cream or watch a movie. Sometimes he would be cruel and drive there without even telling us.

"I'm fine here." She sighed, and I suspected she wanted them to see her.

I was far too practical to follow her into that folly of romance. I thought myself immune to it, happy to just read about it in books that would remove me from my present circumstances. Something which had made me a target, previously, for underhand comments as I walked down the school halls or sat in the library just turning pages.

"Fine, until you send yourself silly with all this nonsense." I sighed, putting my book aside and shimmying to the end of my bed.

"I want to know what it feels like, don't you?" She was a dreamer, a conjurer of a fate I could already feel the chill of spilling down my back. "To be taken for a ride in a car, and have them open the door for you. And kiss you goodnight, making you feel like you're the prettiest thing they ever saw. Don't you want that, Bonnie?"

If I had ever wanted it, the moment had passed. Perhaps I was hopeful once, but then hope could be so easily dashed. My sister was beautiful in an uncommon way. Simple and understated, the sort of beauty that was caught at the right angle and once perceived, it was devastating. With long auburn waves and a set of dreamy blue eyes, she had lips that were full and round in complete contrast to what I had to offer.

"No." I replied without hesitation. "I don't want deal with any foolishness, least of all from a man. Don't we put up with enough of that from our own dear brother?"

She rolled her eyes in contention. "It's not the same, and you know it's not. Brothers are nuisances. In the same way Dads are."

With that, I couldn't disagree. Ours was a formidable creature who liked to keep us so pure it was as if any man would contaminate us by breathing the same air. Something which had begun to take it's toll. I had given up, and Jolene was merely awaiting her chance to break all the rules.

"Oh, but not these boys." She sang, returning her gaze to the frivolities unfolding across the street. "These boys are handsome and good. I just know that they are sweet and kind and up close I bet they have all these little nuances that only stand to make them even more handsome."

She would walk into a pit of fire if it promised to love her and adore her. Willing to walk to her heart break like ascending to the gallows with a smile upon her face and would willingly do it all over and over again just for a taste of something like passion. A part of me envied her.

"Maybe you're right." I agreed, deciding it might be worth a peek. "Maybe they are handsome and good. And maybe they will take you riding in a car and kiss you goodnight. But that doesn't change the fact that Dad would never allow it."

There were three of them. The elder of the twins was a lithe and charismatic thing. With a mop of curls and a penchant for wearing his pants low enough that my Dad had balked at the sight of him upon introductions. The younger twin was a little more reserved, hiding behind a curtain of long dark hair. His smile was entirely unexpected just by looking at the depth and darkness of his eyes. Neither of which were mirrored in their younger brother, who had all the hope and exuberance of a puppy dog that hadn't been trained on how to behave around company.

And Jolene was right. They were so infuriatingly pretty. All three of them with the same magnetic curse that had drawn my attention whether I wanted it to or no. I was no better than she, leaning my hand against the glass so that I might see them better. Rolling my tongue around in my mouth as I tried to appear calm.

"I'll jump out of a thousand windows before I ever let Daddy tell me who I can or cannot love."

I believed her. There was something in the way she stared out of that window that made me truly believe she would never let such a thing come between her and her desires. And as I looked down at the object of her affection, he saw me for the very first time.

Shirtless and sweaty, his hair wet and slicked back. He raised a hand to his brow and stared directly into our bedroom window. His brother, coming to see what had distracted him, followed his line of vision. Raising his hand, the two of them drenched and flushed pink as they stood at the end of their driveway regarding us. And we, against our better judgement, stared back.

I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how I might be regarded by another. It was a terrible thing to be young and have innocence imposed. I would trail my fingers down my breasts and imagine that the handsome boy who had peered into my window was standing in the darkness behind me.

I couldn't see him. He wasn't a perfect image. His face was blurred from the distance of where he'd stood in my memories of that day. But it was him that I summoned whenever I touched myself. There was no other who came to mind. It was always the younger twin, the one with the long hair who had dared to stand and watch.

Perhaps it was his boldness that had made him stay with me. There was something bookish about his demeanour, like he'd been written by a woman for other women to fantasise about. Simply by standing there in the summer heat, taking note of me. Like I wasn't a ghost, after all.

"Open the door, Bonnie."

His voice ran through me like the prickle of a stinging nettle against flesh. To hear it whilst I stood there, naked, made my skin crawl.

"Just a second." I replied, pulling on my robe and hurrying to obey.

My Father was on the other side, standing there with a sourness that questioned precisely why I had been in the bathroom quite as long as I had. He would ask if I had been partaking in a sin, but at the same time he wouldn't speak it into existence. He simply cleared his throat and nodded at me.

"Your Mother and I were thinking, for the service this coming Sunday, that you and your sister would like to say a few words about how welcoming our flock have been since we arrived here."

His suggestion drew an audible sigh of disappointment. That I would be expected to stand in front of our neighbours and peers as if I were somehow grateful felt like a deception in the house of God. I could imagine their faces, thinking us good little Christian girls and what perfect examples of the lord's word. A credit to our loving Father. And our Mother, who would sit there in her perpetual silence and allow it to unfold without so much as an uttering against it.

"Of course." I replied obediently, "As you wish, Daddy."

He nodded his approval, clenching his jaw as if he'd anticipated a different response.

"I'd like the congregation to see what lovely girls we have." He mused, the grey flecked moustache that sat above his upper lip twitching. "They need to see that their pastor is the head of a good, solid foundation."

I had already agreed to his demand. There was no requirement for him to stand there and justify it any further. I was consciously aware of my state of undress, and felt it necessary to continue to nod my agreement as I scurried back to my room.

"Oh, and Bonnie?" He caught my arm, firm but not enough to cause pain. "Please make sure your sister stays away from the window tonight."

He would feel superior and I would feel beholden to it. As I smiled and nodded, as if I somehow held the reigns of my sister's deeds. He was smug and I was left wondering how he even knew that she'd been standing there.

"Yes, Daddy." I muttered, knowing it would have been futile to try and convince him otherwise.

She was feigning sleep as I came into the room. Making rudimentary noises and shuffling about as if in dream. I dressed quickly and quietly and it wasn't until I had switched off my lamp and laid my head down that she decided to end her performance.

"Bonnie?"

I flicked the lamp back on. "Yes?"

"Do you think Daddy will let us go to down to the creek this summer? I heard the Kiszka's talking about it outside. They said there was going to be a heat wave and all the kids from Beech Run and the next town over would be heading there. I sure would like to go."

There was an effervescent hope in her voice. That somehow, if she could only say it out loud, it might make it come true. I ruminated on the right way to tell her I couldn't see it being a possibility, not wanting to shatter her dreams entirely.

"Perhaps, if Ben is there escort us, there might be a chance." I offered, knowing that our brother had no intention of escorting us anywhere during his first summer in a new place with all the freedoms and folly of a youth that was extended to him.

She was leaning on her palm. Playing with a thread on her pillow case, her mouth all smushed up as she contemplated what I'd said.

"I just want to be like all the other girls." She sighed, before turning over and signalling the end of her part in our conversation.

"Dad wants us to say a few words at service this Sunday." I told her, plunging the room back into darkness, "Maybe we'll tell them all how he keeps us here like prisoners."

I heard a small, almost indiscernible titter from Jolene's side of the room. But I let her be. Sinking into my bed sheets and trying to imagine I time where I'd ever been satisfied.

He was there, again. Standing in the darkness. Haunting me. His imperfect face just beyond where I could see, the shape of him calling out to me. A set of deep set brown eyes appraised me, squinting through sunlight to get a better look at me. And I replayed it over and over until it was scratched into my memory like an old cassette that had worn it's self down to white noise.

I just wanted to know his name.

It was a Thursday evening. When the wall clock in the kitchen stopped. Summer rain began to fall. My Mother lost her most treasured thimble whilst sewing a set of curtains in the chair by the front window. And my Father was berating us for a less than exuberant attempt at writing a speech for the up coming church service.

He had us standing there like sentinels. Brushing his disappointment over us as if we were his canvas. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle, a deep rooted need to protect my little sister from this sort of tirade starting to bubble away beneath the surface.

"I don't feel your gratitude, Jolene." He scorned, scrunching her script up in his hands like it was a tissue he'd used to blow his nose. "Try something a little more heart felt."

She was on the verge of tears. I could see them welling up in the corners of her eyes. I looked over at my Mother and felt a sense of abandonment whilst she was still in the room as she searched for the thimble she had lost. Silently willing her to step in, to say something. Anything.

"We'll have something appropriate drawn up by Sunday." I assured him, waiting to be dismissed.

His dominance was always at it's most ferocious when I dared to even tread into defiance. Sometimes I wondered if he took pleasure in it. The way Jolene trembled beneath his word and I tried and fought in vain to protect her. I wasn't the one prone to rebellion and yet it felt as if I always took the brunt simply because I always tucked Jolene behind me, safely squirrelling her away from his overbearing eye.

"See that you do." He simply replied, waving a cursory hand that allowed us to leave.

I heard my Mother rejoice as the lost thimble was found. My heart sinking that this was her biggest joy. That she had barely taken note of her daughters and our pain and the way we were slowly sinking into oblivion. Why was I even trying to obey?

Perhaps I closed my bedroom door a little more aggressively than I'd intended. It caused the pictures on my wall to shudder. The bottle of perfume on my nightstand rolled over. And Jolene fell into her pillows, leaving the stains of tears in the folds of fabric.

"They'd never convict him a court of law because he doesn't beat us." She sobbed, screaming silently into blankets.

Perhaps he would have if the marks would've been translucent. I often wondered if my Dad had ever thought about beating us into submission. Sometimes the bloody veins in the whites of his eyes and the tiny speck of spit in the corner of his mouth as he raged at us made me wonder if he curled his fist up at just the right moment if he would strike.

"I thought, when we moved here, that things might be different." I dared to wonder, "But if anything, he's worse."

Jolene's face was all blotchy and pink. Sodden with tears and her hair stuck to her wet cheeks.

"He knows, Bonnie." She sniffed. "He knows that if we were given half the chance we'd be across the street. With those boys."

Would it have been so bad? To have known a summer of love? I was eighteen years old. Never been kissed. Never been taken on a date and had a door opened for me. I had tried so hard to ignore it, but I could no longer look away from it. The way I'd been spending more time on it, touching myself and imagining him in the place of my own hand.

"You don't care, anyway." She added, with a little more malice. "You don't want any of it. You're always trying to stop me from looking at them. You're always burying your head in a book, as if that will help."

Perhaps I deserved that. I didn't dare tell her that I'd had a change of heart, of late. That my usual stance had begun to shift. Where once I'd thought the wanting had passed, it had started to become an insatiable curiosity. Even my waking thoughts were plagued by it.

"That's not true." I confessed, laying a careful hand in her hair. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel alone in this. I promise, you're not."

Her nose wrinkled as she looked at me. As if seeing me for the first time. Allied in our awakening interest in the boys across the street.

"I can't stop thinking about him, Bonnie. Every night before I sleep and every morning when I wake up. I wish I could wash him out of my mind. But he's there, all the time, looking up at our window."

"I know, I know..." I soothed, "I've tried to forget that they exist, too."

I'd forgotten to draw our blinds. In our haste to appease our ever demanding Father, I'd left the curtains open too. From the corner of my eye I noticed a light flicker on outside, drawing my attention. I turned and took note of the Kiszka house, the glowing square in the upstairs left quarter was like a beacon against the rural darkness of our street.

"Look." I said, waiting for my sister to follow my gaze.

It was the elder of the twins who appeared. A towel sat snugly around his waist as he ruffled another through his hair. He was lean and perfectly cut, not dissimilar to his counterpart. I felt a sudden shame at watching him, but there seemed to be no care for his close proximity to the window.

He was talking to someone. His mouth moving in soft intervals, as if engaging in a conversation we could not hear. I was enthralled, nonetheless. Wondering what he was talking about. Who he was talking to. He carefully ran his hands through his curls, making sure they were perfectly sculpted. His stomach taught and his arms raised above his head, but it was only inquisitiveness that made me continue to look.

I felt nothing until he appeared. Tossing his brother a clean t-shirt. Doing nothing of value. Padding around and making me feel like the most detestable of voyeurs.

"He's the one, isn't he?" Jolene asked softly, taking note of my how my breath hitched as he appeared. "We can't just pretend like this isn't happening."

"They don't even know we exist." I dismissed her, forcing myself to look away.

"That's not true." She replied fluidly, her voice rising like a song. "We were introduced when we first moved here. They've seen us watching them. Even if it's the only thing they know, it's that we exist."

I wanted so badly for it to be true. I watched him stand there poetically in the window, talking to his brother and running a hand through his long hair. Casual. No care within the world for him. And I envied not only the fact that I couldn't be close to him, but also that I ached to be him.

I didn't settle at all that night. Fretting, feeling as if I held all the anguish in the world in the pit of my stomach. Jolene had nodded off as soon as the light across the street went out. But I continued to stare at the void a while longer. Silent tears streaking my cheek, the salt on my lips like a bitter reminder that it was all I could do to let it out.

I could see my reflection in the glass. A spiritual spectre that didn't have a voice. I stood there in my white linen night gown, ruffled at the sleeves and thought myself truly a ghost. The window was cold to the touch. The night was cool and calm whilst within me raged a tempest.

I didn't want to go to bed and lay down and have my thoughts ruin me. It would have been nightmares that came to me, ones about being locked in a cage. And so I stood there, in the window I had promised not to let my sister stare out of.

That warm glow from across the street reignited. It almost made me flinch. The way the darkness was all consuming, and then there it was. The light on in the room upstairs. I held my breath, as if somehow they'd be able to hear me. Lip trembling as he reappeared, this time alone. A look of forlorn sadness in his face as he went to pull the curtains closed.

He thought he could see something. He thought himself mad as he peered out further, squinting into the darkness as he caught the sight of me. It was in my mind to turn and disregard him, but I was rooted to the spot. Afraid that if I moved I would never feel again the way I felt right then in that moment.

I knew that he could see me. Certain as I knew that he was watching me right back. I could feel the pull of my heart strings dragging it down, into a flurry that churned my stomach like butter. He stood there, his forearm against the glass as he rested his head against it. Staring at me as if he couldn't quite believe I was real.

And then he raised his hand and waved. And I, inexplicably, waved back.

I sat in the choir loft as parishioners began to filter in. Gripping my insincere little speech in my hand, the paper felt as heavy as granite as I turned it in my hands.

I'd barely slept. Keeping vigil the past two nights, waiting for Jake to appear. That was his name. So graciously given to me, scrawled on a piece of paper as we exchanged messages from our respective windows.

It felt like poetry in motion. The first time he held up a crude scribble and asked for my name. It felt like I had been truly seen. I'd hastily scrambled for a pen and a notebook, holding it against the glass whilst he nodded his understanding. Waiting with my heart beating a muffled drum within my chest as he wrote something back.

He asked me why we never came to the creek. Why we never seemed to linger in the wide open spaces all around us. Why we were always in town with our brother. He seemed intrigued. Telling me about his passion for his guitar through page after page of rushed sentences.

The last of which had told me to wait for him in the choir loft before Sunday service.

Only a fool would have agreed to this. To sit there in my Sunday best, knees clicking together in consuming nerves of what I was about to do. Keeping a watchful eye on my Father as he stood at the podium and graciously welcomed his congregation. I'd never seen Jake or his family at church on any Sunday since we'd moved there. I questioned why he'd asked me to wait for him up in the rafters, but not enough to stop myself from agreeing to it.

"Bonnie?"

I clutched the hem of my skirt, knuckles white and my cheeks pale as I swallowed hard. He slid into the seat behind me. Graciously foregoing the seat beside me, I kept my eyes focused forward and felt as if I might melt into the very grain of the wooden pews. He leaned forward, resting elbows on the back of my pew, his breath warm and silken against the curve of my neck.

"Jake." I replied, my mouth suddenly ravenously dry.

What did I even anticipate that the pay off of this risk would be? Just to feel my own heart beating so wildly in my chest that I thought, perhaps, that I might pass out? To have a moment of stolen sin? I could smell the soap he'd used to wash with that very morning and the hint of coffee and toothpaste in the warmth of his breath. Was this ever going to be enough?

"You don't know how long I've wanted to talk to you." He confessed in hushed tones that forced me to close my eyes against the sincerity of the words. "Ever since you moved here. You've been somewhat of an enigma."

Nobody had ever spoken to me like that before. With careless want and an honesty that threatened to choke me. I could feel my palms grow sweaty, a compelling heat rising in my cheeks.

"We're not allowed to talk to boys." I replied earnestly, opening my eyes to a reality I did not want nor could I any longer tolerate.

He scoffed at the insinuation that he was a boy. "I'm twenty years old, I'm hardly that."

There was an innocent playfulness in the way he chased his brothers around their front yard. Their boyish natures belying their true age. I envied more than ever that they'd been granted that. Feeling naïve that I could have ever considered him a mere boy. Now that he was sitting so close to me, I could feel the urge to sin like effervescence bubbling off his skin. Something only men could feel.

"Forgive me." I faltered, bowing my head in solemn regret that I had been so fruitless in my estimation.

But he didn't berate me. "Oh, you're a caged little bird aren't you?"

If I could have let myself cry, he'd have witnessed a dam bursting. I sat there twisting my skirt, almost ripping the paper against it, letting hatred and regret and desire course through my veins. I hoped, more than anything I'd ever hoped for before, that he couldn't see the anguish.

"Are you ridiculing me?" I dared to ask, turning my head ever so slightly to catch him in my periphery.

I could see his lips parted as he lingered at my ear.

"No, never that." He reassured. "But I've seen the way he keeps you behind glass. I've seen you standing at the window watching us. And I tortured myself wondering if you knew that we had been watching you, too."

My breath stilled. "We?"

He boldly leaned a little further forward. Joining me in my gaze as I stared down at the growing crowd below. His chin almost rested on my shoulder, his hair almost brushed against my cheek. I couldn't stand it, the close proximity and the way I felt as if I couldn't move an inch.

"My brother Sam, and I." He confirmed. "He thinks your sister is damn near the prettiest little thing he's ever seen. But I told him no, that's not true. There's more grace and beauty in the older sister. She is where my mind runs to when I look towards your house."

To consider that he had thought of me made the centre of my chest begin to throb with a yearning I had never endured before. It filled that empty space between my ribs. Aching to crawl out and consume the rest of my body. I could scarcely breathe. My hand instinctively dropped the hem of my skirt and flew to my collar bone. Resting there as I tried to calm my beating heart.

"I didn't think you knew we even existed." I whispered, letting his confidence shine down on me, a part of me feeling fearless enough to make these confessions.

"On the contrary." He replied, sweeping his breath across my cheek bone, quite unintentionally as he lingered close to me. " I've thought of you often ever since you arrived. Wondering if you were ever going to make friends with my sister so that I could have the opportunity to talk to you. It was the greatest disappointment when we realised it wasn't meant to be."

His dream had been mine. The two of us worlds apart, and yet staggeringly close. Wanting the same wants. Needing the same needs. Laying his head down each night with that same blurred image of me that I had kept of him, too. God had finally answered my prayers.

"There is nothing more that I want that that." I replied wistfully, "But he would never allow it. We'd be punished. Called wicked. Or worse."

Jake shook his head and slinked back, taking away the heat of his body and leaving me cold.

"There's nothing wicked about the desire for connection." He surmised, tucking his hair behind his ear and pulling out a cigarette from his shirt breast pocket. Putting it between his lips for later. "You tell that air headed brother of yours to bring you down to the creek tomorrow."

"Ok." I replied quietly, feeling the essence of hope leave with him as he scurried away.

He didn't linger. I couldn't see his face in the crowd as I stood at the podium. He'd slipped out as easily as he'd slipped in, and I was grateful. I didn't want him to see me up there. Making a breath full of lies for ears that would have listened to any old garbage I could have come up with.

It was all I could think about as I talked about how the sanctity of strong family values held our bonds with God together. Something about honouring thy Father. As I pictured Jake sitting behind me, hot breath on my skin and the scent of his cologne still in the air I breathed. If I was wicked, I was already going to hell.

Ben was sitting in the car, his arm draped casually over the back of the passenger seat. His hair was neatly combed to the side, his shirt tucked into his slacks as he checked his teeth in the rear view mirror.

"We don't want to go into town today." Jolene complained, slumping into the back seat with a pout that she would never let our Dad ever see. "Why can't you just take us to the creek?"

He turned and pointed an ominous finger. I was inclined to bat it out of my way as I slipped in beside Jolene. Knowing she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"You're going to town. I got a date with Harriet Dinsmore. I've been trying to pin her down for weeks. So don't start with all this going to the damn creek nonsense." He spat, carefully running a palm down the perfectly sculpted slicked hair that made him look uncannily like our Dad.

Jake had been unflinchingly correct in his estimation of our brother. For Ben, life meant never having to use much intelligence. He would fly off the back of our Fathers coat tails. No doubt becoming a pastor himself. Not for God but for the glory of it. But whilst he still held the keys to the car in his hands, I'd be smart.

"Oh, come on." I rallied, "You don't want your little sisters moping around while you try to court a pretty girl. We're better off at the creek. You can pick us up after."

I caught him roll his eyes in the mirror. "You would have me lie to Dad?"

Jolene popped her bubble gum, smirking as she stared out of the window over towards the Kiszka's house.

"It's only a lie if you tell Dad you're taking us into town with you. Has he asked where you're taking us?"

She knew there'd be a presumption made. But would use the semantics to her advantage. I felt a cool sense of pride in her, exchanging a knowing look as Ben rolled the thought around in his tiny little mind.

"Harriet Dinsmore? Isn't she the girl who works at the ice cream place?" I feigned interest. "She sure is pretty."

All it took was a few soft words about her hair. Her eyes. The way she served ice cream so deftly. She never spilled a drop. I wondered if he'd been so pliant before, if we'd had opportunities missed because we were so afraid of what our Father might do if he found out.

I was fuelled by that simple demand. That we get our air head brother to bring us to the creek. For what purpose, I didn't care. But I knew that if I didn't try I would reek of regret. And once Ben agreed to take us, I felt a sense of accomplishment that I'd never managed before.

Jolene was ratified in her excitement. Staring out of the window, beholden to a freedom so rarely afforded to us. We were given fair warning, of course, to keep to ourselves and not talk to any interested boys. To be on our best behaviour and not give him him any cause to have to tell Dad where we had been.

I did wonder what went through his mind as he dropped us at the side of the road, where the gate that lead down to creek stood open against a rickety old fence. I could hear voices in the distance. Jovial ones. And suddenly I was stricken with the stupidity of what we were about to do.

"Did he really say that?" Jolene asked, pulling down her little linen shorts and pulling fingers through her loose curls. "Did Sam Kiszka really say that I was damn near the prettiest thing he'd ever seen?"

If not for her, then for who? I set aside my reservations. Flattened down the pleat in my sun dress and pulled down the edge of my hat. I would make a fool of myself if it meant that she got to have just five minutes talking to the boy she liked. No more standing at the window wondering.

"That's what I hear." I replied, taking her hand as we sauntered through the gate and down the incline of the field towards the river bank at the bottom.

The tall grass weaved between my bare legs. Brandishing sleek little kisses against my inner thighs. The tips almost brushed against my crotch, each step like a feather dancing against my flesh. And it did not serve me well. I could see him standing on the embankment. Shirtless and long hair blowing in the warm breeze. I felt my stomach tie itself in knots over the sight of him, feeling as if the grass itself was inviting me to arousal as I walked towards him.

"Are you nervous?" Jolene asked, her hand still clutched firmly in the curl of my own. "I'm real nervous."

"Just stay close by." I soothed, "Don't leave my side, and we'll be just fine."

There were pockets of people dotted up and down the tree lined incline. Some were splashing around in the creek bed, where it met a wide opening that created a shallow pool, others were bathing in the sunshine. An array of colourful bathing suits on display. It was hot. The sort of hot where everything felt sticky and wet. There were balls and frisbee's being tossed around. Music playing from a boom box hanging from a broken tree branch. Beers sitting in coolers. Cigarettes and a sense that perhaps I'd bitten off more than I was willing to chew.

They were all there. All three of them and their sister, sitting in folding chairs and on blankets dotted around the clearing next to the water. There were a few faces I didn't recognise, too. Friends, no doubt. I didn't know where to look. It felt as if perhaps we were intruding, on account of the fact we weren't dressed appropriately for the occasion. We didn't even own bathing suits. It was apparent that we'd made a mistake.

Everyone was staring at us. Eyes boring into us as we approached. Jolene's hand squeezed mine. A silent plea for whatever we had walked into to stop feeling like a trap. Why did it feel as if I was feeding not only her, but myself to the wolves? They appraised us like creatures who belonged in a zoo. Eyes widened and sun shades slipped down their noses to get a better look at the Jones sisters.

"You came." Jake said breezily, greeting us at the edge of his little pocket. "I didn't think you would."

It was still in my mind to turn around and head back. But there was something in the way he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand that made me willing to stay.

"You said to come." I hedged, every inch of me burning from the curious stares.

He was wearing a pair of denim shorts, cut at the knee. With a waist band so low I could make out the edge of whatever he had on underneath. With his body on unapologetic display, I didn't know where to politely look. There was only his eyes that could have accepted my gaze appropriately. And they were so intense I could feel myself wanting to back off.

"I did." He agreed, "And here you are. Let's get you introduced."

We accepted the seats we were offered. But declined the beers. Jolene sheepishly grinned as names were thrown at us and I tried so hard to commit them to memory. There was the Kiszka's; Jake, Josh, Sam and Ronnie. Danny Wagner and another friend from school, Lewis Dinsmore. Who's poor sister was stuck on a date with our unbearable brother. I was grateful for it, regardless. It provided an initial talking point which ingratiated us into the group, enabling me to calm my nerves as I sat there trying to act as if I didn't feel like a duck out of water.

"So, Bonnie. Are you a senior or did you graduate?" Ronnie Kiszka asked, hands on her hips as she supped on a bottle of beer and eyed the length of my dress.

"Umm, I graduated." I replied, "At our last school, in Ohio."

"So, what's the plan? College?" She continued, her questions posed innocently enough. But I felt like I was under the microscope. "I'm going to Michigan State in the fall."

"Oh, that's great." I tried to keep my voice steady and casual. "I'd love to go to college, but I'm needed at home to help my Mom."

Josh was sitting on a blanket, resting on his palms with his chin tilted up towards the sky. Languishing in a similar state of undress as his brother.

"Oh, is she sick or something?" He asked, pushing his shades up into his mess of curls as he looked over at me.

"No." I replied, looking down into my lap. "No, nothing like that..."

Jolene was more than happy to answer their questions. The intrusion didn't seem to phase her, she lapped up the attention like a neglected pup as I sat there wondering what they must have thought of us. Uncomfortable at the idea of it. Of them knowing our Dad would keep us at home rather that receiving a college education. That we were supposed to be somewhere else, and I wondered if any of them would know to keep our being there under wraps.

I couldn't hide my disdain. I smiled and nodded where required, but offered nothing in the way of conversation. I sat in the shadows whilst my sister took the reigns. Her desire to be part of something beyond our house was being fed to bursting and I could see the colour rise in her cheeks the more they enquired. Especially when Sam addressed her directly, their eyes finding each other in undeniable attraction. And all I could do was witness it unfold, hoping that my silence wasn't being mistaken for ill manners.

"You wanna get out of here?"

I looked up. Jake was standing at my feet, his hand extended for me to take.

"I probably shouldn't leave Jolene." I fretted, seeing how much she didn't need me.

"Probably shouldn't." He echoed, keeping his hand firmly offered. "Or is it because you're afraid of what might happen if you do?"

He'd been so kind. So humble. Introducing us to his friends and family. Like we weren't the spectacle we'd been when we first arrived. He'd been hospitable. Making jokes and including us in them. He'd made me laugh. Not just a giggle, but from my belly upwards. Making me radiate a smile that had been hidden for so long I hadn't even known I could smile like that.

"Afraid, of what?" I asked, although I suspected it was what he'd wanted.

He didn't say it out loud. There was only a hint of it in the way he curled his fingers up and urged me to go with him. I thought, perhaps, that he could see my uncertainty etched there in my face as I tried to fit in. All the things I wouldn't confess to. That I was afraid I'd spend my whole life never knowing what it truly felt like to be adored. Afraid that I'd always be a vessel for thoughts and feelings that would never be allowed to be expressed. Afraid that I'd never get to explore what it meant to be a woman. Fears that seemed to go unspoken. And yet, he heard me.

Jolene was sat with her chair practically on top of Sam's. Their heads bowed together in a conversation nobody else was invited to. I could see his hand edging towards coming to rest upon her knee, but he kept graciously stopping himself. Peering into her eyes instead, letting her ramble on about nothing in particular. Enchanted by her. And she, in turn, seemed entirely smitten with him. Blushing every time he tucked his hair behind his ear. Every time he threw his head back and let out the most infectious laugh I'd ever heard. He was being gentle with her.

"Come on." Jake said, "I know a spot we can go to."

Nobody seemed to care as he took one of the blankets and began to lead me away. Jolene looked over, silently watching as he took my hand. Too afraid that if she made a comment she would break the spell between her and Sam. I tried not to think too hard about it, grateful that people had finally gotten bored with our presence.

I would have let him take me anywhere. It felt like a sonnet that hadn't been written yet. The way he held my hand so casually, leading me back into the tall grass. All I could do was watch the way his hair moved in the breeze. Dancing against his flexing shoulder blades. His hips moving gracefully as he stepped between the long blades, blanket tucked under his free arm. The afternoon sun was beating down so hard, my cheeks began to burn. Grateful when he finally led me to a shaded area of tree's a little further down the creek where nobody else had bothered to venture.

I watched him as he laid the blanket down, flattening the grass and making sure we were shrouded by it. Inviting me to sit with him, the sound of flowing water and leaves moving in the dull wind as our soundtrack.

"You ever just lay in the grass and look up at the clouds?" He asked, rolling onto his back and placing arms behind his head.

I wrapped the hem of my dress around my knee's, conscious of the breeze as I laid down beside him. Through the canopy of the tree's around us, I could see wisps of cloud moving slowly against the brilliant blue.

"Not since I was a little kid." I replied, trying to remember the last time I'd done anything quite like this.

He was quiet for a brief moment. But it didn't feel like it needed to be filled.

"I hope you didn't get in any trouble yesterday. I don't think anyone saw me talking to you." He said, pulling out a small bottle of something honey coloured out of his pocket. "Sometimes people can't see what's happening right under their noses."

There was a flash of something in his grin as he lifted his head to take a swig, offering me some before dashing it onto the blanket at his side when I declined. I liked the way his side profile looked as I turned my head to look at him. There was something about the way his nose pointed at the tip, the way his mouth had the most enigmatic curl at the corners. It was obvious that he hadn't brushed his hair that day, but it didn't matter. It only served to suit him well.

I started to feel as if I could climb on top of him. The way he laid there, the muscles in his arms flexed as he laid them behind his head. I'd never been close enough to ever drink him in. I tried to commit to memory all the little nuances that were entirely him, knowing that I'd think of him later in more detail than I ever had before. It made me nervous.

"Clever." I surmised, impressed by his critical thinking. "Do you often do things right under people's noses?"

He smirked and turned his head, knocking me off my steady perch and into a panicked mess as his eyes met mine. I didn't dare look away. I didn't want to make the obviousness of my gaze even more obvious. I hoped that he couldn't tell I could hear the great whoosh of my own pulse when he looked at me. But I suspected that he did, letting his eyes fall down the rest of my body before coiling back up.

"Not everything." He damn near whispered, leaning up to rest on his forearm. "Some things I prefer to do where no one else can see."

It was getting hotter. The air felt warm in my lungs as I breathed. Even in the shade, it was sticky and sweltering. My dress was becoming increasingly drenched, beads of sweat pooling between my breasts. He was glistening in the sun light, his neck saturated as sweat ran down the peak of his adam's apple. Both of us tangibly giving in to the impetuous heat.

"Like what?" I asked, reaching for the bottle to quench a dry thirst that was forming in my mouth.

It tasted like fire. Did nothing to alleviate the dryness, only served to almost choke me and make me cough. Much to his delight as he placed a hand to my back and waited until I'd composed myself before offering his arm for me to lay against as I sank back down.

"Wouldn't want your Daddy catching us here, like this. Would you?" He asked, the sweat of his arm sliding against the back of my neck. "Wouldn't want anyone catching us here like this. I like being here, with you, just the two of us."

The weight of what was transpiring between us almost felt too heavy to bear. I could feel it, travelling up and down my body in waves of undulated panic and arousal. He wouldn't stop staring at me. Making it harder for me to deny myself.

"I like it too." I confessed quietly, allowing him to curl his arm up, making me inch closer to his face.

All the hours of wonder couldn't have stood up to the reality of him. The sweet and gentle nature of him coveting me, with nothing more than a simple gaze and the support of his arm beneath me. He made no attempt to touch me further, and I almost felt like begging him would have ruined the moment.

"Don't you get lonely up there sometimes?" He asked, grazing his bottom lip between perfectly set teeth. "I see your face sometimes and I can't stand the way you look so sad."

Oh, he'd noticed. My heart soared and broke all at once. That he had known not only that I existed, but taken the time to notice my mood made me feel as if our lives were not merely shadows.

"Not lonely." I shrugged, settling on a different word. "Perhaps, sometimes, it's a little melancholy."

He wrinkled his nose and thought about it. Reaching for a blade of grass behind him and ripping it from the ground in order to satisfy his need to keep his hands busy.

"If you were mine I'd never want to see anything but a smile on that pretty face of yours forever more." He said, running the blade of grass against my cheek playfully.

I shrank away. The sensation of it too intimate for me to appropriately deal with. I giggled, but my unease was there in the way my eyes couldn't settle back on him.

"I'm sorry." He apologised, throwing down the grass and trying to settle the vibe between us back into something a little more innocent.

But it was too late. I could feel a familiar throb begin to beat away between my thighs. Latent misery in being unable to satisfy my desires kept me tethered to the blanket, unable to confess that I wanted him to do it again.

"Don't be sorry." Was all I could say, a little more passionately than I'd intended. "I'm just...well, I'm no good at this sort of thing."

He seemed to go quiet all over again. Looking down at our bodies side by side. Swallowing so hard I could see his throat flex. Like he, too, was lost in a sea of words he so desperately wanted to say but couldn't.

"You're not like the other girls." He gulped, pointing out one of my deepest flaws. "I don't want you to be like the other girls. They aren't worth the risk like you are."

How could he have known my worth? Beneath that starry eyed exterior, was he just as nervous as I was? It seemed to me that he could scarcely hold himself back as his eyes moved between my lips and my gaze. Flitting up and down as if in conflict.

"All I've ever wanted was to be like the other girls." I sighed, noticing for the first time that he had moved closer. "Other girls get to be taken out on dates and have doors opened for them. And have goodnight kisses."

The subtle shake of his head intimated that none of that mattered.

"Other girls don't write their name for me in notes I can only see from my window." He said earnestly. "Other girls don't drive me crazy every time I see them come out of their front door on a Sunday morning wearing those pretty little dresses."

I felt like I'd fallen asleep and I'd woken in a dream. I could smell the liquor on his breath he lingered so close. The heat of the day dissipating as the heat of his body took over.

"Other girls don't make me write songs for them, before I've ever even spoken to them..." He stopped, right before his lips would trespass against mine.

"You...wrote a song...for me?" I breathed into his mouth, fingertips digging into the blanket folds at either side of my stilled body.

"For a good Christian girl, you sure do make me feel damned." He posed, speaking with his lips a feather light touch away from mine. "Damned to write songs for a girl I can't ever have."

Was it not enough that I dwelled beneath his touch? Whatever madness made him think he could not have me, I wished for such a fallacy to be gone from his mind. If God had put the attraction that was so palpably clear between us within our hearts, why would God punish us for acting upon it?

True. I was a little apprehensive. Not for the punishment of God, but from a Father who truly believed his word and actions stemmed directly from the all seeing eye above. But, like Jake had already so pointedly said, we were here alone. Just the two of us. No other man nor God in sight.

"Have me." I whispered.

I heard him hold in his breath. Already so close to my mouth, all he had to do was let it happen. Nobody was ever free from temptation, and I was sordidly aware of my need to walk directly into it's aching path.

If God truly did exist somewhere between this mortal coil and the thereafter, I believed that he would not blindly lead me to be tempted beyond my ability. That I may be able to endure it. My spirit and my body in unison for the very first time.

"You would hate me if I did." He whispered back, "I'm wicked, Bonnie. So much more wicked than you could ever imagine."

I didn't believe that anyone quite so beautiful as him could ever truly be wicked. Perhaps wicked in the ways that only brought pleasure, if you were so inclined to allow yourself to enter into that sort of thing.

Was I? That sort of person? He was only two years older than me but exuded an experience which far surpassed mine. Even with his boyish charm and child like nature, he was a man nonetheless. A man that held me in his arms on a hot summer day with the wind chiming through the leaves above us and the softness of the ever trickling water as it ran over rock and earth.

Heaven.

"I ache to know wickedness." I pleaded, feeling insanity wash over me as he still refused to kiss me. "It's not for anyone else to decide."

That one sentence brought him to his conclusion. I could see it there as his brow knitted together delicately, his gaze intensifying.

"You don't know what you've done."

Perhaps not. But I didn't have space for regret. Not when he let our worlds collide. At first, there was nothing but the gentle feel of his lips as they brushed against mine. Softly venturing, exploring what depths he could take with me. A solemn pull back as he checked in with me, I could feel his hand against my balmy cheek. Alabaster turning pink as the blood began to pump harder in my veins. I was breathless without even having to move.

When he'd ascertained that I wanted it, he returned to me. Pressing his lips against mine a little harder. Letting his head tilt to the side, our noses pressed flush into each others cheeks.

I don't know what it was that I expected. Certainly not the rush of adrenaline as he opened his mouth. Nor the moisture gathering between my legs that was certainly not due to the weather as I felt the slippery tip of his tongue converge into my mouth. It was soft and slow, only brushing against mine with subtle intimation that he wanted more.

I suspected that this was purposeful. Nobody had watched us as closely as he had and not drawn the conclusion that I had never been kissed before. I suspected that he knew this was my first time. And he treated it as such. Sweeping his thumb against my cheek bone, letting me whimper softly into his mouth as he pulled away only to slake his hand around the back of my neck and pull me up into an embrace that had more meaning behind it.

And then he stopped. Forehead rested against mine, breathless and lips drenched in each other. He didn't let me go, clutched me harder in fact. Made me wonder if patience truly was a virtue.

"I have thought about this moment over and over." He swallowed, kissing me again so briefly I barely had time to reciprocate before he'd pulled away again. "And always, I'm painfully aware of your virginity. I don't want to hurt you, Bonnie."

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was something else. I let my knees unfold, the hem of my dress crawling up my thighs. Immediately I was aware of just how tightly I'd been clenching them, my body immediately softening in his grasp.

"Take it." I offered. "It is yours."

He would have it. Retrieving his senses at the shock of such a thing, he ran a gentle palm down my stomach and his hand came to rest at my waist.

"You're not a good Christian girl at all, are you?" He ventured, kissing me with a little more fervence.

Although the presumption was made based on my willingness to part with my virginity and give it up to him, I knew I'd been a sinner for far longer than I cared to admit. My thoughts had been impure before we moved to Beech Run. The levels of depravity increasing ever since Jake had made his presence known. I wasn't a good Christian girl at all. Not behind closed doors. Not anywhere where thoughts were free.

"I've committed all manner of sins in my mind." I replied honestly, my tongue lilting against my teeth, prepared for another kiss. "Wouldn't you? If you couldn't do anything? Have anything?! Wouldn't you imagine what it felt like?"

"Oh, I would." He replied, licking into my mouth with all the urgency of a man who had been granted his greatest wish. "But I don't want you to imagine anymore. I want to give you everything you've ever wanted."

He laid me back down. Sinfully slow. Taking in the sight of me, hair fanned out on the blanket and my lips swollen. My breasts sitting comfortably beneath a modest neckline, my sun dress being something I would have worn to church. Wondering if he felt the same fear that I did.

"Give it to me, then." There it was, that little beg that had been threatening to spill out of my mouth ever since he'd put the blanket down.

His hand travelled further south. Parting my knees. He ripped another blade of grass and settled it between his thumb and index. Teasing it above my face in the air, making me nuzzle into his chest as I tried to run from it.

But he didn't run it against my cheek. I soon realised it was for a far more nefarious purpose. I dared to peek out from his embrace. A look of total devotion there as he swept the blade up my inner thigh. The almost breath like touch of it reminded me of how it had felt as I'd walked towards him. I held my breath. My dress sat just below where my underwear could be seen, everything else on display. And he unashamedly caressed me, using the blade as his guide.

"Soft little babygirl." He crooned, "It'd be almost cruel to ruin you."

I didn't need his protection from it. The inflection of annoyance at his suggestion that my virginity was something I wanted to keep was hard to hide. My expressions betraying me as I looked up at him.

"Lucky for you, I can be cruel." He added, marking his territory on my heart. "Would you like me to be cruel?"

"If the devil so wishes." I replied, "I fear I'm already ruined by my own intrusive thoughts."

The tip of the blade ran down the fabric which sat between it and my naked flesh. At it's most vulnerable spot.

"You don't have to be virtuous with me. Not anymore." He promised, "I'm not your Daddy."

It was clear invitation to step into my desires.

"Tell me I'm a good girl, Jake." I needed it. "You can be as cruel as you like, just tell me I'm good."

I don't know why I needed to hear it. Maybe there was a part of me that still dwelled in the church where I needed to be holy in order to exist.

His eyes widened at my demand. Staring at me, like I was Jesus on the cross and he had come to worship. He let the blade of grass go. Preferring to run his hand up my thigh instead. I shuddered. Let my lip curl into my teeth. Never taking my eyes off him as he brushed a fingertip against my moist crotch.

"Such a good fucking girl." Partnered with the curse word, his praise left me bound to him. "Does my good little girl want to get fucked?"

The abruptness of his question left me open mouthed. I wasn't shocked because it offended me, I was shocked because the answer was an unequivocable yes. They way he claimed me with that one, solitary use of the word my left me dizzy. Of course I was his. And all I could do was nod my consent.

"You tell me you're innocent and beg to get fucked with the same mouth." He breathed against my lips, hooking a solitary finger around the fabric of my panties, his knuckle brushing against my slit. "That's my extra specially good girl, isn't it?"

He was playing with me. Strumming me like his guitar, like a song written just about me. Pulling down my underwear until they sat at my knees, I was completely at his whim.

"I'm not going to fuck you, though." He said softly, raking those same calloused fingertips that had held my face as he kissed me through the sodden valley of my pussy lips. "Not yet."

I knew it was futile to beg. Not when he so gently and pliantly planed his fingers down the edges of what I could tolerate. He would bring me to the brink and tell me it was what I needed. Dancing with the devil, my sinful thoughts brought to light. I'd never been happier than I was right there on that blanket in the tall grass. In the shade of the grove of tree's that surrounded us, in the hottest summer I'd ever recall.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He said, leaning back into a kiss that was now familiar, his tongue edging into my mouth enough to send a flood onto his fingertips. "You tempt me so..."

"Anything, Jake." I breathed, "Anything you want, just tell me what to do."

He softly ran the pad of his thumb over my aching, swollen clitoris. I moaned, let my eyes close, turned my face away in fear that I would look ridiculous to him. I'd never dared to venture to that part of myself before. Letting the throb ebb and flow whenever I was aroused, never allowing myself a moment to indulge in it.

"Pull my zipper down." He instructed, rutting his hip into my side. "It's kinda uncomfortable down there."

In the furore of him touching me, I'd failed to notice his maddening bulge. I felt foolish and girlish, stupid for not realising he was aroused too. My hand wasted no time in releasing him. Pulling down his zipper and opening the button of his denim shorts. I didn't dare put my hand inside, still feeling a little trepidation of touching him back. But the relief was there as he eyes rolled back, grateful just to be free of the constraints against his hard on.

"I want so badly to sink my fingers inside you and ruin this pretty little pink thing." He murmured against my ear. "Tell me it's ok. Tell me I can feel you from the inside."

I couldn't bear it. The need to be penetrated coupled with the fear of whatever pain might accompany it. But he was too beautiful to deny. The tip of his nose pressed against my cheek, his breath warm and like fire.

"I'm ready." I replied, even if my mind had not been quite up to speed with my body, I still would have let him have his way.

Not simply because of the way he turned me on. But the way he made me feel so cherished whilst doing it.

"Relax for me, sweet girl." He whispered, lips pecking kisses against my temple, hands opening my thighs a little wider. "Just let me take care of you."

The sting of a single digit cast aspersions throughout my body. He was slow in his intention, hissing back a soft moan as he let it slide all the way to his knuckle. I fought against my body's responses to cry out in pain. It hurt. But everything else was a welcome distraction. His voice. His scent. The feel of his body next to mine. All of it.

"Look at you." He praised, railing his kisses back down to my mouth. "The goodest of all girls."

He began to slowly pull it back, savouring the way my mouth opened at the sensation of him sliding it back inside. He didn't attempt to add more fingers, or ruin me the way he'd promised. He simply enjoyed the way I felt. The way I showed him my devotion in simpering moans and errant panting. His middle finger buried deep inside, palm pressed against my wet clit. Completely at his mercy.

"You've bewitched me, Bonnie." He confessed in soft whispers, "With your tight little innocent pussy. And that fucking smile, I can't stay away from you..."

No church girl could ever do witchcraft any justice. But I believed him.

"Then don't" I urged, not knowing what it would mean when the time would come for us to pick up this blanket and leave.

"Never..." He buried his tongue into my mouth, venturing deeper than he had before. "Will you cum for me, pretty little sweet thing?"

I didn't know what he meant. And I wouldn't spoil whatever spell I had managed to weave by asking him. If I were a flower I could feel my petals begin to wilt and fall. How could I tell him that I didn't know what he asked of me? I didn't want him to stop until I was completely deflowered. And whatever it was that he meant by cum, I hoped that I could do it for him.

"Anything...anything you want." I moaned, louder, arching my back to feel his fingertips deeper.

"That's it, oh, you're close..." He said, curling his finger up inside me, in a beckoning motion that almost sent me over the precipice. "You'll know when you get there, my little Ingenué."

His use of another language was unexpected. And his face said it all as I bashfully smiled into another insatiable kiss. He was right, though. I did know when I arrived. There was nothing about it that was anything I could have expected. With no knowledge that such a thing even existed, I was ebbed towards it like I was blind and seeing for the very first time.

At first it was like a muffled song I could hear from another room. The melody was there, I just couldn't pick up the lyrics. All I could see was those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his with the dark circles beneath watching me in wonder as it cascaded over me. The song no longer muffled, the crescendo of a great symphony in my eyes as I finished against his palm. The way he looked so satisfied letting me know that I'd done good.

"Ssssh...sssshhh..." He soothed, "It's ok sweet girl, I promise...it's ok."

I didn't know that there were tears falling down my cheeks until I tasted the salt of them on my lips. The sweet relief of something I hadn't known I'd needed filling me up from the soul upwards. He slipped his finger out and pulled up my panties, making sure that I wasn't hurt.

"I feel so foolish..." I cried, "How could you want me? When I'm like this?"

"It's because of this that I want you." He reassured me, grabbing the length of his aching cock beneath his boxer shorts and adjusting himself to a more comfortable position. "Don't you get it? It turns me on. The thought of nobody before me. That you'd be mine, entirely. And I can promise you here and now, I will protect you no matter the cost."

I couldn't wrap my head around what the cost might be. Only the way he didn't expect me to touch him back in that moment. He started to soften eventually as we laid there together, his hand running gentle strokes through my hair as I calmed. And he tucked himself away, promising that he would save it for another time.

The afternoon was growing late as we packed up and sorrowfully left our quiet little spot. The grass where we had laid all flattened in the perfect shape of where our blanket had been. A sorry reminder that the moment had fleetingly passed. I kept catching his eye as he tucked it underneath his arm, and he reached out to take my hand again.

"What now?" I asked.

"I don't know." He replied, with equal sadness. "But something tells me it'll be worth it."

We walked back in contemplative silence. Content just to be together a few more moments until it would be cruelly snatched from us. I could see that some of the crowds had already begun to disperse as we headed towards the plunge pool. A little less heavy on the noise. I could see Josh and Danny standing by their little group, deep in conversation whilst Ronnie packed up the boom box and cooler. Lewis was idly folding chairs, stacking them up ready to be carried back to the road.

"Where the fuck did you guys go?" Josh asked, watching us approach hand in hand. "Was about to send out a search party. We might have to, if Sam and Jolene don't get back here soon."

I had no concept of the time. I could feel the coolness of late afternoon on my skin, where once it had burned. The sun was still beating down as earnestly as it had been, but it was a little further towards the west.

"Shit, what time is it?" I asked, bile rising in my throat as I began to wonder if Ben was waiting for us up by the gate.

"It's a quarter to six." Josh replied, shaking his wrist as he checked his watch. "Why?"

I let go of Jakes hand. Circling the area for a visual of my missing sister. I couldn't see her anywhere.

"No, no this can't be happening...Ben will be here to pick us up in fifteen minutes..." I panicked, visibly shaking as I ran down towards the creek edge.

I called out her name. But there was no reply.

To be Continued...

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.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289

[spookythesillyfella]

i need to know more about this au so i always did wonder if you had some songs you associate with anyone here? i think music inspiration is so fun to learn about!! :DD of course on your own time. i know there's a lot going on for you currently but i seriously rock with you talking about high voltage when you do!!!!! ily !! /p (take care and know you're never alone!)

doll . dude . each character playlist i have is over 5h in length . some are even pushing 10h – to say that i have songs that i think correlate to the guys is an understatement

buuut fear not !!! while i could certainly make this three thousand posts that are excruciatingly detailed . i think i should just give you a general gist of some of the things that go on inside this here head of mine !!!

Tracey : "Mezes 72" – Patron [as the subject of the song] . "Konton Boogie" – jon-YAKITORY [for the lyrics and very rambunctious tone of the song] . "Animo" – The Sukis [for the lyrics nd vibe also] . "Comet" – Steven Universe . "Worst Beat Ever Created (Number 10)" – DistantCry [this one is here mostly as a joke ; itz the type of music they'd be making without the help of the others ≠w=]

Brendon : "Blow My Brains Out" – Tikkle Me [suuuper fitting for him in all seriousness ; i love him] . "Kanjou wa Zaikogire" – Dobu no Awa [extremely underrated and extremely fitting] . "Keep Your Mind" – Sitcom [another super fitting one] . "I'm the Rain" – INABUKOMORI . "Composing the Future" – N25 cover . "Lotus Eater" – Aoris

Shrig : "Exorcism" – Creep-P [genuinely one of the hardest songs ever made ever in the history of ever and also very fitting for him ¥_^] . "Fata din Roman" – Patron [im sure you can already guess that this is here only partially because hv shrig is romanian but I SWEAR IT FITS !!!!] . "Love Bug" – Jack Stauber [i know the title is very on the nose but again IT FITS I SWEARR !!!!!!] . "FAKE SMILE - REBOOT ver." – Kairikibear . "Fear & Delight" – The Correspondents [fitting in the context of bedbug]

Tony : "Who Is She?" – I Monster [very fitting given his lore again] . "Tondeku Anata ga Mawaru" – Dobu no Awa [another lore one that im MAD is underrated] . "Heat Abnormal" – Iyowa . "BAKENOHANA" – NAKISO [yeah you should've seen it coming] . "You will never forget me" – Dobu no Awa . "Crack Baby" – Mitski . "Cigarettes out the Window" – TV Girl" [in the context of digitaltime] . "Uncanny" – Ghost and Pals ; special shoutout to a NOW DELETED DOBU NO AWA SONG "Please Kill Me" THAT I LOVED AND PLANNED TO DO AN ANIMATION TO

i could keep going for a LONG . LONG while but i don't think you want to read any more of this ahaha

[ember-da-toon]

I've been gathering the courage to dump some oc x canon stuff here so like-

Yeah,

Have an infodump of my oc x canon ship kids because I can!

Sterling x Leona

They have triplet girls, all three are lion beastman just like Leona and have distinct hair color to tell them apart, everything else looks pretty identical.

There's Legacy, the oldest and natural leader of the three.

Kiara, the rambunctious second born.

And Talullah, the shy third born.

Sterling and Leona had the triplets when they were 27 and 28, respectfully.

The talk about having children didn't come up until Leona turned 25. Mainly because of his parents reminding him of the obligations of a prince and the need to keep the royal bloodline going. They knew the risks that came since Sterling would be carrying the heir. The possibility of the child being magicless like him was worrisome but not dire. They still urged Leona to have at least one child like his brother Falena did.

Both Sterling and Leona were hesitant. One didn't want to bring a magicless child into the world and have them struggle with navigating the dangerous world with alternative means, and the other... well, he just doesn't really want to be a father at all.

Leona soon relented and agreed to have a child. Sterling was somewhat disappointed that the child was going to be born out of duty rather than out of love with their own terms. Then again, he wasn't a royal, it was probably normal afterall.

They didn't know the gender (nor the amount) of the cub that would come out and left it for a surprise. Imagine the disbelief when three little girls came out, with their tiny ears and stiff tails.

Leona was surprised for sure. Two of them resembled Sterling while one of them resembled him. He wasn't sure how to feel about raising three at once, but there was nothing he could do about it. He needs to put in his effort after what Sterling had gone through to bring the little bundles of joy into the world. Sterling did fall asleep after the birthing process. He didn't get to see Leona's reaction when he was finally able to see him and the cubs.

As much as Leona wanted to hold and whisper blessings into their ear, he was just stiff and frozen. He was unsure of what to do or how to hold them. He sat by Sterling's side and waited until he woke up before he tried to hold the cubs. He was... a natural, actually. He's had experience with holding Cheka waaayyy back then, but he hasn't held Cheka properly ever since he learned how to walk. But these were his kids. His past knowledge of how to hold babies came back to him once he held his youngest daughter, Talullah. She was constantly shying away from the light, turning her head away from any bright lights and nuzzling into the towel she was swaddled in with soft mewls. Seeing the resemblance of his and Sterling mixed in her features was endearing to see. A mini carbon copy of their combined genes. He could tell that she was going to be rather sensitive and shy when she grew up, not like he could blame her. He knew what it was like to be the youngest born.

When he held Kiara next, the cub was constantly squirming and mewling almost defiantly. He could definitely see himself in her, not just in the literal sense but also her future personality. She's going to be quite difficult (fun) to raise. He just knows it.

Finally, he held his firstborn, Legacy, the one that was initially planned. She was the most well-behaved and curious one of them all. Her tiny hands outstretched with curiosity as she blindly pawed at the air.

I'll draw them soon, I swear. I just need to actually draw Leona first. (I've never drawn any of the TWST characters yet)

[noodlestaocc]

Cap'n Noodles Makes A Friend

a brief little story for fun

It was a bright, sunsoaked day in Barrelbuster Bay, the perfect kind for some sort of adventure. The sun hung high amidst the sky, and one could swear they could hear the sand just screaming for you to set out to find something neat.

Not for Cap’n Noodles however.

The normally rambunctious pirate was oblivious to the call of the day, deeply sleeping within her quarters, sprawled across her desk with an old map serving as her makeshift blanket.

She hadn’t exerted herself significantly the day prior, nor did she stay up terribly late. She just didn’t feel like getting out of bed that day, for whatever reason.

The curtains were drawn tight, and she was lost in dreams, content to remain in her cozy cocoon until her stomach rudely interrupted her pleasantries with a loud grumble.

Noodles groaned, only to roll off her cluttered desk and land with a thud on the weathered wooden floor, sending a globe and spyglass tumbling down beside her. “Ow!” she whined, wincing as her senses gradually returned. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, and the cries of gulls echoed outside, informing her it was midday, and she had slept in once more.

"Oh... late."

Her stomach interrupted her again, an insistent reminder that it was time to find something to eat.

Noodles liked food, but sometimes she wished she didn’t have to eat. To live, one must eat; to eat, one must work; and to work, one must exert themselves—not exactly the most thrilling of pursuits for a fun-oriented person like Noodles.

Yet, her stomach was unforgiving, so she reluctantly pulled herself off the floor and ventured out of her quarters. 

Squinting against the harsh sunlight that assaulted her weary eyes, she wandered the deck, contemplating her options for a meal. She was all out of noodles, because she didn’t want to work. She was also all out of bread, because she didn’t want to work. No crackers either. Why? Because she hadn’t worked a single minute in the past week.

The last thing she wanted to do was hold herself accountable, so she put her brain to work on finding a quick, easy solution to her hunger problem. And after a disappointingly considerable amount of thought, she did.

She could catch a fish.

Over by the railing, the salty seawater reflected Noodles’ unwavering gaze as she stared down into the pleasantly colored depths. The average person likely wouldn’t be able to see very far into the rippling blue, but Noodles was different. Everything was clear as glass to her, and she was just waiting for one poor sucker of a fish to swim a bit too close. 

Then, just as she began to grow bored of her little stakeout, she saw a fish meander its way to her boat, triggering an anticipating grin to swiftly make itself known on her face.

It was big. It was delightfully oblivious. Did I mention it was big? It just had to come a little closer, and then…

Noodles pounced into the waters, cutting through the seas like a dart in the wind towards her breakfast. This was the fun part. The fish’s reaction time was regrettably not as sizable as its body, and before it could notice the long-armed child barreling towards her, the captain’s sharp teeth clamped down upon its scaly exterior and violently ripped it from its ocean home.

Emerging onto the beach with her prize, Noodles spat it out onto the sand once she was sure it was dead, and did a little dance to dry off.

"He he haw, that's breakfast! Time to eat!"

She swiftly turned back to her meal, only for her eyes to meet another.

It was a fuzzy, big-eyed, spectacularly rotund seal.

The two just stared at each other for a minute or two. Noodles never imagined she’d see a seal this close, let alone at all, and the seal clearly didn’t expect her to either.

Her eyes slowly dilated at the sight of the creature until she smiled brightly and excitedly exclaimed at the top of her lungs, “SHIVER ME TIMBERS! A SEA PUPPY!!!”

The seal jolted at her reaction, grabbing the fish and bouncing off at a remarkable pace across the sand. Noodles’ face dropped at both the seal AND her lunch getting away, and it didn’t take long for her to give chase.

“SEA PUPPY, WAIT!”

The seal didn’t bother listening, as it continued bouncing down the beachside. It picked up speed once Noodles started gaining ground, attempting to make it back to the water where it’d be able to jet away with ease. Unfortunately for the seal, it just wasn’t fast enough. 

“GOTCHA!”

Noodles pounced upon her squishy escapee, rolling along the white hot sand with it tightly wrapped up in her lengthy limbs’ inescapable grip. She stared at it sternly as it thrashed about in her hold, trying in vain to get free from the peeved pirate before it could suffer any sort of consequence at her hand.

“Bad dog! Bad bad dog! Gimme back my fish!” Noodles demanded impatiently, glaring at its big, round eyes.

It eventually realized it couldn’t get away, and it reluctantly dropped the fish from its mouth. Noodles nodded firmly, trying to exude some sort of authority.

“Thank ya,” Noodles exhaled, turning the seal around in her hands to face her, holding it out at a distance. “Don’t steal! That’s bad!” she scolded, in a manner picked up from one of her crewmates.

The seal, clearly being unable to speak, just stared back at her. It was hard to properly gauge its feelings, likely given that it was a seal, but Noodles was picking up something.

“Don’t gimme that look! Yer in big trouble, mister! Or miss. I dunno.” The seal responded with more of the same, an unchanging gaze that refused to deviate from Noodles’ own. Then it barked. Noodles smiled innocently, her expression changing in an instant.

“Ok! Ya sold me!”

She sat down in the sand, set the seal down as well, and picked up her fish before ripping it in two (which was fortunately goreless given the friendly nature of the world’s programming) and giving the fish the tail while she kept the head. “Here ya go, sea puppy! We can share!” She smiled, flicking the tail a bit closer to the spherical creature.

The seal sniffed at its portion before gobbling it down in an instant, satisfied with what it could get. Noodles giggled at the voracious display before biting down on her half as well. “Sho, is it good?” She spat out, not even bothering to finish chewing. The seal had long since finished its meal but hadn’t left, so she assumed yes.

Noodles swallowed her half and continued speaking.

“Goodie! Never had breakfast with a sea puppy before,” the seal continued to lay there, not bothering to take its leave. “Toby always said there’s a first fer everything. Guess there really is, gaha!” She giggled, poking the seal and watching it wobble. She liked it, she thought it was silly. The seal was unbothered.

After a bit, Noodles had finished her portion too. She pat the seal on the head and smiled. “Well, that was yummy! I’m gonna go back to me ship now. Bye-bye sea puppy!” Noodles stood up from the sand, awkwardly waved bye with her weird arms, and trodded off.

Bopping her head to a shanty she remembered as she walked, she didn’t bother to look back until she made it back to her ship. Once there she began to climb aboard, only to notice a familiar trail alongside where she was walking.

She looked up on her deck and realized the seal had followed her! And there it was, sitting on a barrel, basking in the sun and letting itself deflate onto the warm wood.

“Mister sea puppy! Y’followed me!” Noodles shouted, wide-eyed as ever. Not that she was displeased, quite the opposite actually. She skipped up to the barrel it rested on, taking in its presence on her own property.

“D’ya like me or somethin, sea puppy?” The seal just stuck its tongue out in response to her eager inquiry. Noodles also took that as a yes. She threw her hands up in celebration before picking the seal up and swinging it around joyously.

“Yahoooo! Yer me new, uhh… eighth mate, sea puppy!”

She proclaimed, clearly overjoyed at her new friend. The seal, as usual, didn’t react much—but didn’t seem opposed to the idea. She swung the animal around until both of them were dizzy, collapsing on the floor.

“Oh oh oh! Ye gotta have a name,” she said to the seal, holding it up above her. “Y’like fish… so I’ll call ya Fishy. Aye?” The seal blinked. Noodles cheered, accidentally throwing poor Fishy into the air as she did so, but she caught him before he could hit the floor. “Ok Fishy! Yer me friend now! We should do friend things!”

Noodles contemplated hard on what she could do with her new friend. You wouldn’t believe it, but Fishy was thinking too. Eventually the two came up with a brilliant idea for something to bond over.

“SLEEPING!”

Noodles and Fishy immediately flopped on the floor, fast asleep, together. As friends do, I suppose. They wouldn't wake up until the next morning, and they dreamt of more fish.

Noodles had made a new friend that day, and she couldn’t have been happier.

i made this in two hours lol

[leiawritesstories]

LEIA CONGRATS ON 500 🥳🎉🎉💓❤️💘❤️💖🩷💓🩷💞❤️💖

you know what my prompt is 🤭

THANK YOU SO MUCH MARIA MY LOVE 🥰💕❤️😁😍

context: maria and my dm's are insanely chaotic. somehow we were talking about almond milk? and one of the things she sent me went like this: "now i need a fic where rowan's a foreigner learning the common tongue and he asks aelin for some nut milk." that's the prompt hehehehehe

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: inappropriate jokes, swearing, innuendo, badly concealed horniness

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Romance books were horrible liars, it turned out.

Not a single one of the many, many romances Aelin had read in her lifetime had prepared her to meet the love of her life in a random aisle in a grocery store. No, all the books she read either involved small town meet-cutes, dreamy historical romances, arranged marriages that became love matches, and the occasional toe-curling bodice ripper. Love In Aisle 24B? She was convinced that would never happen.

Yet here she was, hand in hand with a man who was every single one of her dreams brought to life, leading him into her house.

But she was getting ahead of herself. Where to begin....?

~

Rice, flour, spinach, carrots, hot cocoa mix, espresso pods, almond milk. That was Aelin's list for her quick stop at the grocery store on her way home from work. She loathed shopping at five PM, knowing that the place would be overrun with harried parents, just-off-the-clock workers, and every single person in the vicinity who'd opened their fridge and realized they needed food for dinner.

Luckily, a parking spot opened up just as Aelin pulled into the parking lot, and she waved gratefully at the mom in the minivan who'd just vacated a spot that wasn't terribly far from the store entrance. She parked, got out, locked the car, and steeled herself for the chaos of dinner-crowd shoppers. It's just a quick trip, she reassured herself as she strode through the parking lot. Fifteen minutes, tops.

Entering the crowded store, she grabbed a basket and headed for the produce section, easily finding the spinach and carrots. Check, check. She wove through the maze of people and carts, muffling more than one curse, and ducked down an aisle to grab a bag of rice. Check. The baking supplies aisle was mercifully much emptier, and she found the brand of flour she liked and placed the familiar paper sack into her basket. Check. Hot cocoa mix was only a few paces away--and no, she didn't care that it was impractical for the late spring. It was always hot cocoa weather at Aelin Galathynius's house.

She braced herself as she stepped into the coffee and tea aisle and found it far too heavily occupied for her liking. Rolling her eyes, she decided to go grab almond milk and loop back to pick up espresso pods on her way to the checkout lines. Those would probably be their own nightmare, but she'd deal with that when the time came.

Aelin dodged shoppers pushing overfull carts and mothers desperately trying to keep a hand on their rambunctious children and made her way to the aisle with the non-dairy milk. Blessedly, it was empty, and she strode over to the almond milk section, found her favorite brand, and placed three cartons in her basket because it was on sale. She paused for a moment at the end of the aisle, sighed, and trudged back towards the coffee.

Just as she was about to turn into the coffee aisle, a hand tapped politely at her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

She turned, finding herself face to face--well, almost, since he was a good six inches taller than her--with a mouthwateringly gorgeous man wearing a shy half-smile. "Yes?"

"I do not mean rude, but you have the..." The man pronounced the words carefully, his voice bearing a distinctly foreign accent. Clearly he was still learning the language of Terrasen. "The...meelk? The milk! Milk of the nut."

Aelin spluttered a cough, stuffing down the lewd comment she immediately wanted to make. "I--um...I'm so sorry, I have the what?"

The man blushed, only making him more endearing. He pointed to the almond milk in her basket. "The nut meelk."

Understanding clicked in her brain. "Oh! The almond milk." She enunciated the words carefully.

"Al-mond meelk," he repeated, smiling in earnest. "Thank you, ma'am." He gave her an eccentric little dip of his head. "Please, show me where to find?"

"Of course!" Smiling back at him, she led him to the non-dairy milk aisle. "Here it is." She showed him the brand she bought. "I like this brand, but there are more options here."

The man picked up a carton of the same brand she bought; it looked comically small in his large hand. "Thank you," he said again, relief coating his accented words.

She grinned. "You're welcome..." She let the pause trail on, hoping he would give her his name.

"Pardon!" he exclaimed, then mumbled a few words in his native tongue. "I am such rude. I am Rowan."

"So rude," Aelin instinctively corrected. "We say so rude." She shook his offered hand. "My name is Aelin."

"Aelin," Rowan repeated, the syllables of her name turning thick and sweet as honey on his accented tongue.

Her blood turned to fire at the sound of his voice.

"Gods," she gasped, glancing at her watch. "I really need to get home, this was just supposed to be a quick trip."

Rowan stepped aside so she had a clear path. "Do not let me stop you," he grinned. "Thank you again, Aelin."

"You're very welcome, Rowan." Flashing him another grin, she headed towards the checkout counters, pausing briefly to grab espresso pods. The checkout lines were unbearably long, so she joined the much shorter line for self-checkout, waited for a few minutes, and went up to the machine when it was her turn. Efficiently, she scanned her items, placed them in her shopping bag, paid, and tore the receipt from the printer.

She was nearly out of the store when a commotion at the self-checkout caught her attention.

"I--I not understand!" Oh gods, that was Rowan's unmistakable accent. "No money?"

"Sir," the store employee all but snapped, "the sign says 'card only.' Can you even read?"

Rowan faltered. "I--"

"Show some decency," Aelin drawled, calmly stepping between Rowan and the irritated teenage employee who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. "You should be able to tell from the man's accent that he's not from here."

"Well--um--" The teenager floundered. "Look, I'm not--"

"Capable? That much is clear," Aelin scoffed. "I'll help Rowan here finish checking out, and you can run along back to restocking ketchup or whatever the hell else you do." Turning to Rowan, she explained, "This machine only has a card reader. Do you have a credit card?"

Softly, he murmured, "No, not in wallet."

"It's all right," she reassured him. "I'll pay."

"You no need--"

"Don't worry about it." Aelin tapped her credit card on the card reader, took the receipt, and handed it to Rowan. "There. Quick and easy."

He picked up his almond milk--the only thing he'd had to buy--and followed her out of the store. As soon as they stepped into the parking lot, he swiped her bag of groceries from her, laughing at her shocked protest. "Let me, let me," he said. "As thank you."

"Such a gentleman," she teased. "All right then, you can carry my groceries to my car." He walked beside her through the parking lot, waited for her to unlock her car, and then carefully deposited her groceries on the back seat. "Thanks, Rowan," she smiled, truly meaning it. A thought flashed through her head. "I'm sorry if this is rude, but...do you have a car? Or how else are you getting home?"

He shook his head. "My..." He spoke a word in his language. "Not know how to say. Like brother, but...of father's brother?"

"Your cousin?"

"Aye, my cousin. He has the car. I took bus from apartment to store."

"Can I drive you home?" she asked.

Color splashed across his cheeks. "No need, please, I will take--"

"The bus is never on time during evening rush hour, and you'll get stuck in traffic when it does show up," she snorted. "I promise I'm a safe driver, Rowan, and before you pull your stupid chivalrous act, no, it's not too much trouble." She leaned against her car. "I live here. I can drive you home without getting stuck in terrible amounts of traffic."

He folded. "Okay. I will drive with you."

His oddly formal language made her smile. "You're rather cute with your blush and your accent, y'know, Rowan," she teased.

"Cute?" Impossibly, Rowan blushed harder. "If I am cute, Aelin, then you are perfect beauty."

That fire in her blood burned brighter. "I'll show you beauty," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Buckling his seatbelt with ease, he leaned over and whispered in his language into her ear. Though she couldn't understand him, she knew the thickness of his voice had nothing to do with the words he was saying. "Was that a promise, Rowan?"

His emerald eyes deepened to smoky pine. "Yes." As she started the car and reversed out of her parking spot, his hand drifted casually--naturally--to her thigh, its weight warm, welcome, and teasing.

She was in such deep shit.

~

Instead of asking Rowan for his address, Aelin asked if he was okay coming to her house, and when he breathed another Yes into her ear, this time pairing it with the faintest brush of a kiss on the side of her neck, she shivered and headed home as fast as she legally could. She parked, got out, grabbed her groceries before he could insist on carrying them into the house, and took the bag inside, placing it on the counter.

Rowan hadn't followed.

So she went back out to the car, walking around to the passenger side. "Rowan? Is everything okay?"

He nodded. "So okay," he promised. "I...I needed a breath."

The corners of her lips quirked up. "Can I show you my house?" Feeling bold, she linked her fingers with his. "The kitchen, the living room..." A pause. "My bedroom."

That got him out of the car and on his feet, a smirk tinged with desire curling his lips. "Please do."

She led him up the front steps and into her house, kicking off her shoes in the entryway. "The kitchen is right here, if you wanted to know." She gestured to her left. "You can put your almond milk on the counter." And put your rowillymilk in me, she added under her breath.

He left the carton on the counter, slid his arm around her waist, and leaned down to kiss her. Aelin rose onto her tiptoes to meet his lips, the kiss starting soft and quickly turning deeper, passionate, filled with the inexplicable desire that crackled between them. Effortlessly, Rowan lifted her into his arms, not breaking the kiss as he took a couple of steps and stopped, remembering he didn't know where anything was. He pulled away, breathless.

"Aelin--"

"Upstairs," she panted, her chest heaving. "Come here."

And she led him up the stairs and into her room and kicked the door shut behind them.

~~~

TAGS:

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@silentquartz

[noirandchocolate]

Headcanons About My Master Kohga’s Mama—

Named Hotaru (“firefly”), as I’ve mentioned on a few past posts. Her family has a tradition of insect names. Not everybody in the line has had one, but it’s common enough among them that if you read Clan records and notice somebody named after an insect it’s very likely to be an ancestor of hers.

Was adept at making and then administering poisons, both via subterfuge in food, drink, touches, etc., and via daggers and kunai. She studied under the Clan’s master apothecary for the poison making part. Kohga’s father was one of her mentors on the stabbing people part.

In fact, one of her earliest flirts with Kohga’s Dad (while his own mother was Master), was to, after bringing him over a bowl of food in the Complex’s dining hall, watch him take a few bites and then claim she poisoned it “to see if the stories of the Heir having an uncannily strong constitution were true.” Dad panicked, then laughed his ass off when he realized she was joking. That was what clinched his interest in her romantically.

Hotaru had very long, wavy hair (for real, not as part of her usual magic disguise, although I do not know at this time if it was really black or if that was disguised) and was very meticulous about caring for it. Around the Complex (ie not on missions when she was younger), she’d often have it done up in complicated styles and decorated with hair sticks/pins and kanzashi.

She’s responsible for Kohga’s extensive skin- and hair-care regimes. She washed her lil’ boy’s hair and showed him how to finger-comb and -curl it into pretty, neatly flowing coils and then wrap it up in the style he still does today. <3

I’ve said this before but Hotaru was a musician! She’s the one who taught Koh to play shamisen. She also taught him traditional Ancient Sheikah calligraphy. In general, she was big on preserving Yiga culture and traditions. She was an avid reader too and would go slip into Gerudo Town in disguise to buy (or, yknow, steal) books. If you gave her a good novel as a present she’d be your friend for life.

Very competitive player of the Yiga equivalent of Go. When Nana Master Kohga noticed her son taking an interest in Hotaru, she near-immediately rushed to arrange for them to marry. But not before inviting the girl to play a match against her so they could chat about her interest level. Hotaru won, impressing Nana, and declared that if there was anyone who could rein in the rambunctious Heir and be a good match for him, it would surely be someone who could best the Master herself in a contest of strategy, yes?

As a teen and young adult going out on missions, she liked to make up stories about the Hylians and others she and her comrades spied on or saw at stables/in towns. And then she’d sometimes go up to these people and use her disarming way with words to find out if she was right!

She loved foxes! Especially snowcoat foxes found up in the Highlands. Whenever she met up with any fox, if she had food on her she’d toss it a bit, and even if she didn’t, she’d gesture it a greeting. She was a quite stealthy girl, and she loved getting as close as possible to a pretty perfect white snowcoat whenever possible!

Once killed a target she wasn’t strictly supposed to have, because he tried to put hands on her. Upon reporting to her Blademaster superior, she recited the information she’d gotten and then remarked that she “also learned that he was a lech, and that leches die easily.” She did not get in trouble for killing him.

Almost never raised her voice and felt strongly about maintaining decorum even when she was joking or…well, killing people. As I said in the second linked post up there, she did not use swear words under any circumstances! Now, creative curses were another thing though. Imagine a petite, beautiful woman saying, in an even and possibly mildly sweet tone, “May you be dissolved in the stomach acid of a Molduga” after you take the last dumpling she wanted.

If it’s not obvious already, Hotaru had a dry wit and a saucy sense of humor. She was a master of one-liners. But she was fiercely loving toward her family and the Clan. She was the friend who’d tease you about not being able to handle spicy food but then who’d warn you sincerely if a certain dish in the day’s lineup at the hall had peppers in it. She was good at remembering details about people and asking after them and giving appropriate gifts on birthdays, things like that. As the Clan’s Mistress, that made her a very unifying figure.

She sadly died of what was probably a form of cancer, just shy of a year after her son’s ascension to the Master position. She was only 50. Every year on the anniversary of her passing, Kohga goes to her altar in the Clan’s hall of ancestors and plays some of their favorite songs for her, and at least one new one each time. <3 <3

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The Military Spouse’s Predicament

Author's note:

This story is based on an ask I had from @kikilala14

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Claire stretched and sighed, her hand resting on top of her bump.   She could finally see progress in the pile of clothes she was unpacking and folding – the list of tasks after moving house seemed to be never ending.

Looking over to the big pile of unopened boxes she let out a despondent groan.  She knew what she was getting into being a military spouse, but moving half way across the country to a whole new area, her husband deploying the day after they arrived for who knows how long… and her children impatient for a bit of normality after yet another major upheaval in their lives was all wearing on her nerves.

Claire married her squaddie husband, Tom, 5 years back and over the course of those 5 years, each of her children has essentially been born in a different city.    She had an older child, Josie, who she had as a result of a teenage fling before she met Tom, who though she was entering her teenage years herself, had proven to be invaluable in helping Claire manage the younger children she shared with her husband, all boys.

James was her eldest boy, 4 years old and needing to be enrolled in the nursery at the military base where the family lived.

David – or Davey as the family called him – was 2 years old and a typical rambunctious toddler.

Peter, or Petey was the youngest – due to turn 1 year old in around about a months time.

Carried within Claire’s womb was her second daughter, a result of an unfortunate accident when Tom was back home, and now, as Claire was approaching the final weeks of her pregnancy, she was well aware that technically her 2 youngest children would be ‘Irish twins’ both born less than a year apart.   Claire and Tom still hadn’t settled on a name for the new addition, and of course, Claire was fretting that time was getting short.  

Both Tom and Claire were preparing for the birth to happen whilst Tom was deployed, meaning he couldn’t be in attendance.   What Claire wasn’t expecting was the oncoming tightening around her belly as she was folding clothes, a panic setting in as she realised that things were starting – after having 4 children previously she knew the tell-tale signs of real labour vs Braxton hicks practice contractions.

“Shit…” she muttered under her breath, looking around the house.   Her life was still in boxes – she had only moved in a week ago.  She hadn’t registered with the base medical personnel – truth be told she didn’t even know where it was at this point.

“Mammy made a swear” came a sing-song voice from behind her.   She hadn’t realised that James had snuck up behind her.   Claire turned around and told him that his mummy was very naughty and she shouldn’t have said that, that he wasn’t to repeat it. 

“I pwomise” he replied.  “Can I have my Legos?”

Claire hefted herself up off the ground, her hand finding her bump and rubbing.   She knew that things were progressing, and she had to consider that with no one to look after the children, she might have to have them here when she gave birth – perhaps sooner than she had planned.   She picked up her phone and dropped a text to Josie, asking her to come home.   She didn’t want to make her panic or anything, so left the reason why off the message.

Claire found the box with the Lego pieces in them, awkwardly placed at the bottom of a pile of other boxes.  

“James darling – the Legos are all the way down at the bottom of the pile, can you play with something else until we get to them whilst we unpack?” she asked.

“No!” James stamped his feet, and folded his arms, the first signs of a tantrum in the process of forming.  “I haven’t been able to play with them for ages now and I was almost finished building something.”  He referred of course to needing to pack them up and box them away for the move.

Claire sighed, feeling another contraction coming on.  She knew she likely had hours to wait until things really picked up, but there was so much to do to get prepared, she was worried she might not get everything done she needed to.

She reluctantly started lifting off boxes from the top of the pile, stretching to pick them up and place them down somewhat neatly elsewhere.

She picked up a second box, and James reached up to her hands, grabbing the box from her, announcing that he’ll help.

“No! don’t!” she snapped, already too late as James yanked the box from her hands, not realising that it was heavy.   The box dropped down with a crash, cups and dinner plates shattering into pieces, thankfully all contained within the box.

James burst out into fits of crying, the loud bang and shouting shocking him, Claire once more swearing out loud at the accident.   She brought her crying son into her with a hug and shushed him, telling him that it was an accident and it wasn’t his fault – all the while mentally berating him for not waiting for her to finish.

The commotion brought Davey into the room – he had been watching TV in a different room.   He broke into a grin, pointing at Claire.

“Mammy oopsie” he announced.   Claire stood up and realised there was a wetness between her legs and a dark stain on her trousers.   Claire turned red with embarrassment.   In all the stretching and lifting she was unsure if she had simply wet herself, the baby within her and her bladder both having had run ins before… or if it was something more dangerous – if her waters had broken.

Claire laughed it off.  “Yes, mammy was naughty and didn’t go to the toilet when she needed to – you need to make sure you do it like I told you to when you need to go if you want to be good!”

“Yes mammy” the two children recited, but soon James’s attention was brought to the box of Lego which he had originally wanted, which was now accessible.   Davey’s attention was also drawn to the box, but Claire was aware that the small parts might be a choking hazard for him, so she picked him up – the heaving up of the child up onto her hip resting against her bump causing another streak of pain – and brought him into the other room where his larger, Duplo blocks were already unpacked and piled in the corner.   She told Davey that he couldn’t play with the little blocks for now until he was older, so he had to promise that he would sit there whilst she went and got changed.   He nodded and promised.  

Claire scurried off into the bedroom and unpacked another change of clothes.  Changing her underwear, she swapped into a pair of absorbent underwear, unsure at the moment if she was having a slow leak or if it was just an accident.  She chose a loose fitting top – though with her bump being so prominent it still hugged at the outermost point, and a pair of yoga pants which would be tight enough to keep the underwear in place – and most importantly, were black in case of another accident.

She huffed out her breath as another contraction struck her – much more pronounced than any that occurred previously, the weight in her hips much more noticeable all of a sudden.   She took a moment to rub at its side, feeling the baby within wriggling and fussing around, certain that the baby’s previously snug living space closing in around it wasn’t exactly the nicest feeling in the world.

A cry sounded from the cot in the side of the room.  Petey had woken from his nap.   She picked up the baby and realised that he needed changing.   Groaning at the pain of another contraction ramping up – had it only been a few minutes? – she put the changing mat out on the bed, laid the baby on top of it, and started undressing him.   Bundling up his dirty nappy, and swapping it for a new one, she got him wrapped up in a new set of clothes.   The contraction caused Claire to pause momentarily, catching her breath.   She knew that things were progressing much faster than she had hoped and time was running out.

Where the hell was Josie? She looked at her phone – no reply to the message.   She sent another message, telling her to get back now, expressing the urgency.   5 minutes and if there was no reply, she would ring.

She carried the baby into the other room to check on the other 2 children, and thankfully both were playing with their toys.

She tried to set down Petey with his walker – one that played all sorts of music and had lights and spinney things which usually kept him entertained for a bit, but he just turned back towards his mother and raised his hands to be picked up.  He was clearly having none of the toys and wanted cuddles.  Claire held him up high – not wanting to sit down and wanted to be on her feet herself, the aches and pains becoming more noticeable as each contraction did its work in softening and opening her cervix.   Peter’s needs soon becoming apparent as he fumbled at Claire’s top wanting her breast for feeding.

A chill shot through Claire.   She knew that breast stimulation would speed up the labour she was desperately trying to slow down right now, but she had no other pre-pumped milk available for her son, so reluctantly she opened her top, pulled down the straps of her nursing bra and Peter latched on as he had done countless times before.

She found her way to a chair in the kitchen and managed to position Peter in such a way that he could rest on top of the bump and still be cradled whilst he sucked.   Claire gritted her teeth as the effect took hold, her the stimulation of her nipple causing the next contraction to start almost immediately.

She heard a buzz in the other room, and realised in her confusion she had walked out of the bedroom and left her phone on the bed.   Baby brain at its finest.   She hoped it was Josie saying that she was coming back home, and thought to herself she would check as soon as she could stand back up again.

Petey seemed to take ages to feed, the one time that Claire was hoping he would get his fill and be done.   Almost 10 minutes had passed before he had finally stopped suckling, and all through that time, Claire was in constant pain.   She resorted to vocalising, releasing her pain as moans and groans from her voice, though she bit down on a chunk of her sleeve to try and muffle the sound and not startle her other children.

Thankfully Peter finally got his fill and rolled off Claire’s lap, climbing down her leg.   He clambered on his hands and knees over to the walker he was originally offered where he occupied himself pressing buttons and making noise.

Claire shoved herself up off the kitchen seat and got up unsteadily onto her feet, immediately noticing the feeling of fullness between her legs was getting worse.   She waddled back to the bedroom, desperate to see the phone, her walk noticeably bow-legged compared to normal.

The message from her daughter was not what she wanted to see.  “You agreed I could be back by 9.  I’m at the youth club trying to make friends after you and dad dragged me away from my other ones… AGAIN”

She immediately rang on the phone.   Josie picked up after only a few rings.

“What!”

“I need you back home.”

“I’m Busy!”

“Please, just come home.”

“No!”

“Josie, if I have to tell you again, I will ground you for a year, get your ass back home!” Claire was screaming at this point, the pain of her contractions getting to her.

Josie obviously noticed something was wrong, but wasn’t sure what – her rebellious teenage hormones kicking in and she practically screamed down the phone herself “Fine! I’ll come back, but you’re being so unfair!”

She hung up the phone abruptly, Claire hoping that she would be good to her word and would head straight home.

Claire’s labour was progressing much faster than she thought, to the point now where her contractions were very noticeable, and she had to grab hold of the wall or some other convenient place and pant through them at this point.   She had to get somewhere set up where she could actually give birth.

She popped her head back in to check on her other children, and all were either playing or watching TV.   She snuck off to the bedroom and put some old bedclothes on the bed that she knew she could dispose of afterwards.    It was slow going, each contraction bringing on stronger and stronger pains as time went on, and walking around the bed to tuck in the sheets took quite a long time in her state.

She lost track of time until there was a bang, the front door slamming back.   Josie shouted out “I’m home, just like you wanted, you’re such an embarrassment, we’d both agreed I could be out… now I’m a joke amongst the group I had found, I can hardly make friends like this.”   She had sounds of tears in her voice.  Josie charged into her bedroom, once again slamming the door behind her, the sound reverberating through the house.  She turned on her music to a very loud volume and seemed to be going off into a tantrum.

Claire couldn’t focus on that right now, almost with tears in her eyes she collapsed onto the bed, muttering to herself that she needs help.   Heaving herself off the bed, she waddled into the other room, and spread a pile of papers all over the dining table.   Scanning through them, pushing them to the side in a frantic manner, she eventually found what she was looking for – useful phone numbers for the base.

Ringing the number, it seemed like the ringing went on forever before someone answered.   Eventually a lady on the other side of the phone did pick up, and asked;

“Medical, how can I help you?”

“Hi… I’m in labour, I need help.   Can you send someone over?”

“2 seconds ma’am” came the voice on the other side of the phone, accompanied by a set of clicking sounds as the lady checked on her computer.  “Sorry ma’am our records show that no one is currently pregnant on site.   Can you please let me know who you are?”

Claire explained the situation, that she had only been on site for a week, and she hadn’t visited the medical centre so far due to having to cope with unpacking whilst her husband deployed.   She thought she had at least another week or so before she was due to give birth.

The lady was sympathetic but sounded worried in her response.

“I’m sorry ma’am but without prior warning, we cannot get the specialised medical personnel available on site.   I will of course get someone out to you, but they need to come from across another site – it may be up to 2 hours.   Can you get to the medical centre so we can monitor you in the meantime?”

Claire sobbed no, as she gritted her teeth and let out a harrowing moan as a contraction took hold of her.   She heard the lady on the call click on her keyboard to send out the dispatch notice.   Claire finally got hold of herself to say that she had 3 small children, and couldn’t just leave them alone in the house, and wasn’t sure if she could make the journey to the medical centre in her current state without any assistance.

The lady on the other end of the call said that she had notification that the emergency midwifery team was on its way, and that she would get another call from an emergency doctor as soon as he was available.

Claire thanked the lady, realising she had done everything she could and hung up the phone.   As soon as she hung up, she was forced to grab tight hold of a bundle of sheets as the biggest pain yet rippled across her abdomen, and she yelled out loudly.

That caused her 3 young sons to come and enquire about what has happening.   The sound of their mother yelling in pain causing them concern.

“Mammy, are you in pain?”  James was the first to speak.

“Yes, darling.  I’m afraid that I’m going to be in pain for quite a while now.   Don’t worry though, I will get through it.  I’m going to bring you your new baby sister.”

“New Baby!” the three of them chanted, the varying degrees of clarity in their speech.  “Will the delivery man bring her in his big truck?” asked James.

 “No silly…” Claire added, biting back pain to try and keep as calm as possible in front of the children, “When a mammy has a baby, she needs to push it out of her.   Your baby sister is inside by belly, much like you all were before you were born.”

This impromptu sex education speech wasn’t exactly what Claire needed right now, she was counting on Josie to look after the other kids whilst she got herself off to the medical centre – but things had taken a bit of a turn through the day.   Josie had looked after the other 2 along with Tom when she had given birth to Peter earlier in the year, so whilst she was only really learning about the birds and the bees at school, she was well versed in how babies came into existence.

“How do you get the baby out of your big belly?” asked David.  At the ever-inquisitive age.

“It comes out from between my legs” Claire answered honestly, thinking the stalk thing wasn’t worth trying at this point.  

“You poopie out the baby?”

“No…” she winced as another contraction came about.  “Mammies have a special hole that the babies come out of.  You three don’t have one, but Josie does.”

“Is Josie going to have a baby as well?”

“No… she could in the future… but… not… yet…” She huffed and puffed out the last few words, scrunching her eyes shut as the pain overtook her.   The outside noises vanished as her body forced her to focus inwards at the pain, she was completely unaware at what the kids were saying.   She finally recovered enough to function, realising that James had said something but she didn’t reply.

“Sorry darling, what did you say?”

“Can I see the hole?”

“Perhaps later.   It will be very messy when the baby comes out, so I don’t want to scare you all.   Can you please leave mammy to rest for a few minutes please, I have a headache?”

“Awww!” came the murmur from the three as they trudged off back to whatever activities they were doing, Claire sighing in relief – this was short lived though as another contraction came on.   She laboured for another 30 minutes more, the sound of loud music coming from Josie’s room the prevailing sound in the house.   Claire felt unable to move, she began to panic thinking the heavy weight in her hips would prevent her getting up from the bed, but she had to at least get to the room and knock, try to get her attention enough to explain what had happened.

Claire lifted herself up off the bed, and walking one step at a time, grabbing handholds at each opportunity, she practically pulled herself along to get to Josie’s room.  She knocked at the door – no answer.   She pushed the door to find that Josie had locked it from her side.   She banged hard on the door… again, nothing.   Unsure if Josie was either ignoring her, or couldn’t hear her for whatever reason, Claire had to focus on the impending birth without her.

Claire managed between dragging herself and squat-walking to get to the kitchen area, where she sank down into a kitchen seat.   She cursed out loud as she heard the faint sound of her phones ringtone from her bedroom, completely forgetting that she had left it in her panic to reach Josie.  She knew she couldn’t reach it in time, so decided to leave it – hoping it was the doctor, and quietly hoping that if she didn’t answer, it may force him to come to her rather than just speak on the other end of the phone and leave her with her anguish with no assistance.

James appeared by her side, either not aware of Claire’s struggles, or having forgot what she told him previously, his big eyes looking up at her.

“Mammy… we’re hungry, can you make us some food?”

“Yes darling, just give me a few minutes to get my breath back… remember, mammy is in a lot of pain right now”

“No… all 3 of us are hungry…” he stamped his feet and crossed his arms again, much like he had done earlier in the day when he didn’t get his own way with the legos.

“OK… OK… you go and play and mammy will make you something, deal?”

That seemed to appease James who trotted off.

Claire hefted herself up, most of the effort in her arms pushing her up using the table as a support, and she waddled over to the fridge freezer.

She didn’t spend too long choosing, just picking some potato shapes out of the freezer and emptying the bag into the air fryer, setting the temperature and timer to well known values as she had did the meal several times before.   She was aware it wasn’t the most nutritious thing she could offer, but it meant she wasn’t spending time cutting and preparing food, it wasn’t something she felt she could do in her current condition.

As the timer slowly ticked down on the air fryer, she slipped a hand down between her legs, trying to get a sense of what was happening down there.  She got a shock when she felt a liquid, spongy mass between her legs.   It answered her earlier question if her waters had broken… but now it meant that things were reaching the point of no return much quicker than she had thought.  Her peaking pains earlier had been her going through transition, and she was now presumably ready to push.

As if her brain and body had caught up with what her hands had just felt, all of a sudden, she felt the need to push.  She breathed through it and tried her hardest to not act on the sensation, but she knew it was a losing battle.   She still estimated that she would have at least an hour before the medical team arrive, and she knew within herself that this wasn’t going to wait that long.

She crossed her legs as she stood at the kitchen counter, focusing on watching the time slowly tick down on the air fryer.   She entered into an almost meditative like trance as she breathed slowly in and out, each time the need to push came along as the contraction ramped up, she blew out her breath, but she knew that each contraction was bringing the baby out further and further, and no amount of her delaying it would stop that inevitability.

Finally, 5 contractions later, who knows how many breaths, and at a point where time had lost all meaning, she heard the ding of the air fryer announcing the kids food was done.   She plated them up and called the kids into the kitchen where she handed the plates off to them.   She mashed the potato shapes up for Peter, but had a slight concern that he might struggle with it, as she was still weaning him onto solid food… but the impending struggle between her legs was a more pressing matter.   Why the hell wasn’t Josie helping?

As the kids came bounding into the room, she handed off the plates to each of them as they walked back to their own tables.  Except for Peter, who looked at his mother expectantly.

“Milk?” he asked,

“No baby, not right now… you eat the big boys food with your brothers?”

“No!” he insisted.   He made grabbing motions towards Claire’s torso.

A contraction caused Claire to sink to her knees as she pushed involuntarily.   A sudden wetness making her realise that this time, her waters had broken.   As the other 2 children we occupied with their food, she took the opportunity to take off her top and bra, leaving her yoga pants in place, knowing she would need to get them off soon.

Peter recognised his target, and approached Claire, who held on to him as he began suckling on her breast.

Again as before, the contraction surged through her, the stimulation helping move things along, and she was forced to reach up on her haunches, much to Peters annoyance as he was forced off the breast.   It gave Claire a chance to push the yoga pants down to her knees, and then in a few struggling movements get them down, leg by leg, around her ankles.  As she wiggled from side to side she shrieked as a leg dropped out from her.   Her baby was breach.

Knowing the birth had become much more complex – she had never had a breach birth before – she lost her composure, sobbing and yelling uncontrollably, pushing with her body as she went.   She had positioned herself on all fours with her hips pointing down to give some opening to her pelvis.   Peter, not knowing better, had started suckling once again on her hanging breasts, which was causing the contractions to surge through her, to the point where the baby’s legs and torso were hanging between Claire’s legs in a matter of moments.

The commotion finally brought Josie out of the room with a ‘what the hell is going on out here” shout only to stop suddenly at the scene.    She suddenly realised why her mother had called her back home, and guilt ridden, she charged towards her and held her close.

“What can I do?” Josie asked.  

“Pull off these things trapping my feet, I need to spread wide.” Answered Claire.

Josie did as she was asked, Claire sighing as she was able to finally move her ankles apart.

“Do you remember what it was like when Petey was born?” Claire enquired to Josie.   Josie in turn nodded.  “Well this is different.  Baby is coming feet first, so I still need to push out the head.   Help me up, and support the baby so I can get into a squat?”

Josie did as she was told, taking a hold of Peter and moving him out of the way.   The other 2 had come over and were staring at the scene, completely focused on the action happening in front of them, half eaten plates of food discarded over on the table.

Josie got on her hands and knees in front of Claire, who in turn lifted one knee up, and heaved herself up using Josie’s back to press on, Josie reaching between Claire’s legs to support the babys torso hanging there.

The same happened with Claire’s second leg until she was in a squat, with Josie laying on the floor between Claire’s legs, holding onto the baby, Claire using Josie’s body to support her weight to prevent her toppling over.

Claire gave a big push as she felt her vagina opening wider and wider, the width of the head stretching her out – but the pull of gravity of the body making it happen faster than she would have hoped.   She couldn’t stop and she just went with her body.

James giggled, unsure what to do with the situation, dancing almost in a sing-song voice, “I can see mammys hole, its so hairy.   Mammy doesn’t have a pee pee.”

Claire was focused purely on pushing, and didn’t hear James.   She yelled out, the ring of fire in full force as her lips stretched to their widest point.   She didn’t care what noise she was making, she just wanted the baby out.   Her hands had grasped large handfuls of Josie’s clothes as she pulled on her top to give some sort of leverage to her pushing.

Josie gave encouragement, telling Claire she was doing well, and the baby was coming, but again, her focus was entirely on pushing.   She yelled out again and again. 

Suddenly Claire shrieked, her skin stretched as far as it would go, and the baby flew out of her and into Josie’s hands.   There was an almost eerie silence, each of the children were stunned at what had just happened, the only sound in the room was Claire’s ragged breathing.   Then the baby cried, causing Claire to sink to her bottom, her own tears coming unbidden.

The baby was still attached by its umbilical cord but held in Josie’s hands as she asked “What do I do?”

Claire motioned for her to hand the baby to her, where she gave a quick check over and made sure everything was OK.   She was shivering with the adrenaline rush as she got the rest of the kids to crowd around and meet their baby sister.

Josie fetched a bed sheet and wrapped up mother and baby, Claire grimacing as she passed the placenta, but aware that this would be very much difficult for the children to deal with so she didn’t dare look under the blanket.   As she was beginning to wonder how long it would take the medical team to arrive, there was a knock at the door and they entered with their security keys.

Seeing the scene in front of them, they soon realised they were too late, and began to assess for post partum activities.   Thankfully everything checked out and the family were moved to the medical centre for a more thorough examination.

2 days later as the chaos of having a new baby calmed down, Claire’s phone rang, it was Tom who had managed to get the message through that he needed to ring home.

“Hi Tom.  You’re a Daddy again, we need to think of that name a whole lot faster now.” As he heard the giggling cries of a new born on the other end of the line.

[trivialbob]

Our son Matt and his girlfriend Michelle arrived in town yesterday from Santa Fe. Sheila and I picked them up at the airport. I'd never met Michelle; Sheila had met her once before.

On our way home we stopped at Matt's Bar (that's actually the name of the bar) for a Jucy Lucy (that is actually how it is spelled). I hadn't been there in a long time. Which is stupid of me because the burger stuffed with molten cheese is amazing. I thought it was a nice way to introduce Michelle to Minneapolis.

Back at our house we paused to let the dogs bark at the newcomers. Ella seemed to remember Matt. She quickly stopped barking and started shrieking happily, then gave him a big hug when he knelt to greet her. Even Oliver stopped barking pretty quickly. Sulley and Stella were a bit more rambunctious but eventually settled down.

We all hung out for a while and pet dogs. I still don't exactly understand what Matt and Michelle do at their jobs in Los Alamos. Much of it is classified or secret. Nonetheless, we had a nice time catching up with Matt and getting to know Michelle.

Later we brought them to our local brewery. The place was busy. Several groups were having holiday gatherings, as evidenced by large trays of cookies and snacks. At a table near our were several young moms with babies and toddlers.

I will say it again: I like the youngsters in breweries. Adults don't misbehave around the little ones. Two dudes who might otherwise argue and swear loudly over which Viking will play quarterback on Sunday won't do that in front of little Katlynnght (the second T is silent) and Ashlay, nor do they dare wake a baby sleeping in a stroller. The kids hold up their end of the deal too, because I never hear any crying or whining in breweries, except my own when Sheila says it's time to leave.

In the evening we went to Boom Island Brewing in Minnetonka. One of my sisters and her son met us, as did a coworker of Sheila's who is the same age as Matt and Michelle. We played trivia. Out of 18 teams ours finished mid-pack, which I found disappointing because everyone in our group of seven is smart. Or seems smart!!

There was a food truck in the brewery's parking lot. It's well known for having one of the best burgers around (besides a Jucy Lucy). The truck's burger is $17. A bit high, I think, especially when you have to leave the warm brewery and order while standing outside. But the food is good. However, a Matt's Jucy Lucy is just under $10 and a nice server sets it in front of me, next to a basket of hot fries and a cold Grain Belt Premium.

This (below) is getting ridiculous. If it keeps up, what will the real restaurants, which may charge the same price for a burger and have servers who hustle and make multiple trips to your table, start to add for a surcharge? I've already seen mandatory 18% service charges at some places.

[just-jordie-things]

I can't help but think what would it be like if one of Gojo's student was a curse manipulation user. Like, the moment she walks in it'd refresh all his trauma and hurt and he would start off being a bit hesitant but with time he realises he has a soft corner for her just like he does his other students. Imagine what would it be like if her and Suguru actually came face to face (perhaps during the night parade of 100 demons?!) and start a moral debate on who is using the same power for better and how she should join him, and she debates back firmly almost as if she is defending in place of gojo and saying the things he never could (I can already imagine Gojo going "you know [name]-kun, your technique reminds me of my friend. You have a lot of potential, make sure you use it well." hinting slightly just like he did with Megumi!!] Just wanted to rant about it to you, anything from brain rot to headcanons would do, don't stress yourself too much!! ^_^ oh and have a good day of course 😁

my god this could be the most heartbreaking series i swear if i had the strength to put myself thru it i'd have twenty chapters done today dude.

i think his other students would notice his change in demeanor around you right away. their teacher is notoriously rambunctious so seeing him act distant is weird.

but it goes against your nature to shrink away from his hesitant behavior when it comes to your training. so you keep pushing yourself harder and harder and eventually gojo can't deny that you've got what it takes to be everything suguru... couldn't.

i think even after warming up to you and when he finally stops comparing you to his old friend it would still take him quite some time to open up about it and actually talk about suguru. gojo satoru was a loud mouth that never shut up but he had steep emotional walls.

but when he does bring himself to talk about your bond as student and mentor only strengthens and your path to snatching your own special grade title isn't a slow one!