#anyone remember Halloween? Halloween was fun…. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cursedcatvibes · 3 months ago

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KILLSHOT!

re4r!fuckboy leon x fuckgirl reader

word count: 5.9k

summary: Leon is only really a fuckboy because of some sort of childhood trauma thing. He doesn’t want to be forgotten, growing up ugly isn’t something he wanted to be remembered by so when he got his glow up he obviously used his looks to his advantage. But what happens when he starts to hear another name other than his own making rounds, everyone is raving about this person and Leon doesn’t like this. Is he jealous of them? Or is he actually jealous he hadn’t gotten to experience it yet?

tags/warnings: Minors DNI! Smut, 18+. Complicated emotions, slight mask kink, using of drugs, drugs mentioned, alcohol slightly mentioned, college ditzy bimbo talking, fingering, cowgirl, praise, characters from other franchises mentioned, halloween party, stalking-ish.. not proof read

A/N: hello! i have not been active in a few months oh my gosh.. literally sickening but life is literally sickening in itself? so.. but anyways, i had this idea strike me and it’s taken so long for me to punch it out because i kept changing the plot and rewriting and deleting shit because i didn’t like it. sue me! but yeah i forced myself to sit and write all day, so if some of the plot is not consistent i apologize! i actually got slight inspiration from pawgleon.. like the way the characters speak. i think she portrays bimbo and ditzy talk very well! (this is me partaking in kinktober)

Songs! ^^

Killshot (Slowed + Reverb) - Magdalena Bay

Rehab - Brent Faiyaz

Yummy - Ayesha Erotica

Like a Dream - Thomas LaRosa

Poison- Brent Faiyaz

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Leon’s always made a name for himself ever since Junior year in highschool. He had been considered ugly up until that point, had a bunch of acne (just like a normal growing teenager would), wore glasses, and his voice was still a little high-pitched because his balls had yet to drop. So what? Most boys are late bloomers! Definitely nothing to be insecure about.

He got picked on a lot and all the girls he liked never liked him back, always made fun of him whenever they could and called him a weird freak. But that all changed one summer when he got back to school for the new year.

He had gained a skincare routine, traded his glasses for contact lenses, and even started working out. It made him feel good about himself and it gave him the confidence to say fuck you to everyone else.

When he strolled into school however, it proved to be different almost immediately.

Here he was thinking he would have to defend himself again this year but people actually seemed to like him, girls he had never spoken to in his life started coming up to him. All pretty and perky too.

Now all of the sudden everyone wanted to fuck him and he was overjoyed. He quickly lost his virginity not even a month into starting the new school year, it took him a long while to perfect his craft but soon he got pretty good at knowing a woman’s body, men too.

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A few years later and now he’s in college with a reputation of being a fuckboy. It wasn’t a bad thing for him, considering the fact that he was able to get out the pent up stress college applied onto him.

Leon always got to pick his fruit of the night daily, sometimes even more than once a day. He didn’t have to worry about girls trying to get into relationships with him because of his reputation, one, and two, he was always up front about how he didn’t want to date anyone.

He was 1000% sure that if someone could be labeled as best fuck/hookup he would qualify for first every single time.

Well that’s what he originally thought until he started hearing another name going around, almost as often as his own. He was curious about who this person was, he wondered if they were as good as him for this many people to be buzzing about them.

It only took him a couple of minutes asking around before he found out the full name of the person and what class they were in. Surprisingly they were in the morning class of the same lesson that Leon took except his was more in the afternoon.

No wonder they haven’t crossed paths. No worries, he’s sure that a person like him must be cool enough to become friends with.

Oh how wrong he was.

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You had a decent up bringing growing up, didn’t struggle academically and you weren’t bad looking but you weren’t good looking either. Just plain. No one paid much mind to you in middle school.

It was completely fine with you, no drama, no names to remember, and no one to pick on you. You could honestly say you enjoyed it.

No one bothered you up until you hit puberty, you noticed almost immediately that people started treating you differently. It was strange at first, getting used to everyone trying to butter you up for one thing only.

You didn’t see much of an issue because you didn’t care, you didn’t see virginity as a big deal either. Now you weren’t a hoe or passed around, you just had sexual relations with whomever.

You were pretty ecstatic about going to college you had aspirations and dreams, that dream job wasn’t going to be easy. You needed to have a proper education and a little experience in that field before you even tried.

It was also well known in college that you get to sleep around with whoever you want and receive no consequences.

But never raw, you definitely weren’t trying to get pregnant before your life properly started. You applauded the women who did have babies this early in life and still make something of themselves but you could barely take care of yourself on a daily let alone a whole other little human.

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You sat there in the middle row of the lecture, bored out of your mind. You stared at the chalkboard and occasionally glanced down at your notebook to doodle or something to make it appear you were paying attention. It was just an extra class you were forced to do for extra credits before the end of the semester.

Leon on the other hand was sat in the back row of that same class, he somehow managed to weasel his way into the same extracurricular as you so he could spy on you, a feeling of unease brewing in his belly as he watched you.

He didn’t trust you, he didn’t think you were a whore. That’s kinda hypocritical of him but he was put off by your presence. Maybe a little bit jealous of you and how you managed to make a name for yourself. It was almost like he was challenging you mentally. A challenge you yourself wasn’t even aware of.

He glanced up at the clock when he noticed people getting up, he collected his stuff immediately and quietly followed behind you. Leon felt like he was being a bit stalker ish but he wanted answers. Plus it’s not like he was doing it to be a pervert.

He watched as you met up with some friends to go study in the library, obviously he was still shadowing you from afar. His nose shoved inside a book in the far corner in the library but close enough to spy on you from a distance.

He didn’t gain much information, you were hard working with a flirtatious personality, it was kind of hard for him to gather anything from this. But he overheard you and your friends talking about going to a party, his head perked up a bit like a dog smelling a delicious treat.

He wasn’t sure why but he felt this strange feeling wash over him, could he confront you there? But why was he trying to confront you? In all honesty he wasn’t sure, he just knew that he was jealous and scared that he would become a nobody again.

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You and your friends spoke happily about the most random stuff, like who got who pregnant, followed by did you see this new show? The topics never truly stayed on one solid one unless the whole group had a deep connection to it.

So it didn’t surprise you that a party happening later that night was mentioned. “It’s a costume party?” You asked curiously and your friend chuckled and nudged you with her elbow. “Oh my god, like yeah. Obviously. It’s halloween.” Ashley giggled and the rest of them did too.

“That’s so lame.” You murmured, twirling your pencil around in your hand. “Like.. this is the start of a bad hallmark movie or something.” You said as your lips pulled up into a thin line.

Your friends shrugged and they obviously knew you would go anyways, you glanced around the library per usual. Something you did just as a random habit and you spotted someone looking at you.

You frowned a bit as you watched the guy look away and bury his face back in his book. How strange? “What a weirdo.” Your friend, Jill, spoke up and it startled you a bit. “Huh?” You turned back to her and she stared at the guy before looking back at you.

“Do you know him?” She asked and you shook your head no. “Yeah.. I thought so. He kept glancing over here and I thought it was all in my head.” Jill mumbled softly as if to keep it between the both of you. With a nod of agreement from you Jill joined back into the conversation.

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Leon on the other hand was burning red in embarrassment, you had looked right at him and made a face. Now he looked creepy. He should just leave the library now or something, anything! But he stayed glued to his seat, straining his ears to eavesdrop on your table.

After a while he watched you all get up and leave, he sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nice going, Kennedy. You’ve outdone yourself and now you look like a creep.” He muttered in annoyance.

He quickly packed his stuff up and exited the library, shooting his friends a quick text before heading towards his dorm. He needed a Halloween costume now.

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Halloween shopping didn’t take long for your group of friends. All of you got ready in Claire’s dorm because it was spacious and she was the one who got the best one because rumor had it her brother fucked one of the deans for special privileges and Claire used it as blackmail for herself.

Everyone in that dorm knew it was far from the truth, she was just a good student and because of that she got special treatment alongside Chris.

Ashley was busy doing her makeup when she looked over at you who was staring at the costume you had got. “You okay?” She asked and you turned around to look at her. It was obvious to everyone she would go as Harley Quinn. It suited her. Is what you thought before responding.

“I’m questioning if this is too much.” You responded and Jill perked up. “Definitely not. It’s actually beneficial because it’ll probably be super hot at that party so the less clothes the better.” She murmured mindlessly as she put on her realistic wig..

Ashley and Claire glanced over at Jill before bursting out in a fit of giggles. “This is why we keep Jill on a high pedestal. She’s like super smart and pretty. It’s a two for one.” Ashley grinned and you chuckled softly.

Claire slung her arm over your shoulder and tugged you close. “Besides you’ll be matching with me, and y’know if someone bothers you and you don’t want them Chris will stand up for us.” She pinched your cheek gently and you swatted her hand away with a whine.

“Fine, you have a point.” You relented with raised hands as if you surrender. Claire smiled and grabbed her costume to change into.

Ashley put her hair up into two pigtails and grabbed the spray of temporary hair dye. “So.. Luis is going to be there.” She beamed, and everyone in the room rolled their eyes. “Ashley, you are such a simp for him.” Claire huffed and you and Jill nodded in agreement.

“Okay well it’s not my fault okay! It’s gotta be his stupid accent.” Ashley grumbled softly, pouting as she did so. When she turned around after staring at the vanity mirror for so long she smiled seeing everyone in their costumes.

Jill is Tiffany Valentine from the Chucky franchise, Ashley is Harley Quinn from the DC franchise, Claire is Starfire, and you are Raven.

You purse your lips as you hold the cape up between your fingertips. “You know for the longest time I had no idea what she was saying.” You admitted and everyone but Jill agreed. “You didn’t watch it with subtitles?” She laughed and you shook your head no with a grin.

“I thought she was just speaking gibberish.” You said and it just made everyone laugh harder as they gathered their things to get ready to leave. “Yeah because they would make one of their main characters speak gibberish everytime she used her powers.” Claire teased and you turned red with embarrassment but also laughter as you all walked out the door.

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Leon on the other hand was pre gaming in his dorm room with his friends, Carlos, Chris, and Luis. “Dude you know how many hot chicks are going to be there?” Chris murmured as he slipped into a brown jacket, pulling gloves onto his hands while searching for his Jason Vorhees mask.

“I'm definitely scoring tonight.” Carlos said as he messed with his hair, a soft hum leaving his lips. Leon shrugged, not very interested in hooking up with anybody. He was more interested in trying to one up you.

Luis sat next to Leon on the couch and stared at him for a second. “¿Qué pasa, Sancho?” He asked, tilting his head at the blonde who seemed to be anxious. “Nothing. Just.. thinking. I guess.” He replied, rubbing his nape.

Luis cocked his eyebrow up and narrowed his eyes at Leon suspiciously. “Well, whatever it is. I’m here if you wanna talk.” He assured, placing his hand on Leon’s shoulder. Leon nodded and grabbed his Ghostface mask.

“Are we all ready?” Chris asked as Carlos was putting on his gloves with fake claws on them. He had the signature Freddy Krueger colors on while Luis had the iconic blue jumpsuit and Michael Myers mask. Once everyone was ready they set off to the party, Leon swallowed anxiously under his mask.

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The first thing you were met with when you entered the frat house was a mess, a mess of drunk and high people. You made a face at the smell of sweat and sex filling the air. Have some decorum people. You grimaced as you were dragged through the party.

Somehow ending up in the living room with everyone in your friend group. “They have coke! Oh my gosh, I’ve like totally wanted to try it.” Ashley beamed and grabbed you. “C’mon let’s all do a line, when’s the next time you’ll be offered coke or something. We’ll be all old with wrinkles.” Ashley whined, trying to convince Claire and Jill who sighed and reluctantly agreed.

“Okay but doesn’t this like burn?” You questioned.

“What? Like Molly?” Ashley raised her eyebrow.

“No—Like doesn’t it burn your nostrils?” You raised an eyebrow back at her.

Jill sighed and picked up a straw that was on the table along with random lines of coke on the glass surface while you and Ashley argued over something as tedious as whether it’ll go down smoothly.

Claire followed in pursuit of Jill and did a line too, squeezing her eyes shut as she sniffled. “Jeez, that shit is strong..” She muttered as she pinched her nostrils, Jill nodded heavily in agreement.

“I forgot you’re the fucking coke queen of America. That’s my bad.” You huffed softly.

Ashley rolled her eyes and went to reach for a straw for you only to see Claire and Jill holding them. “You guys did it without us!!” She complained and you just sighed.

“Ash, we can just do a line right now.” You murmured which seemed to calm her down enough to keep her tantrum at bay. She holds your hand and leans down in sync with you as you both snorted a line.

At the same time you both did, Leon and his goon squad arrived at the party and everyone started cheering. Garnering the attention of all of you kneeled at the table.

You wiped away the residue on your nose and sniffled, narrowing your eyes at Leon for a second as he put on his Ghostface mask and his face was hidden again. He looked.. familiar.

You tried to ponder where you saw him at, but you just shrugged it off. Whatever. Probably nowhere.

Jill glanced over at Chris a few times while Claire was eyeing Carlos. Ashley immediately bounced up and was about to scurry over to Luis. You grabbed onto her wrist before she could run off.

“Ashley! Are you seriously ditching us for Luis?” You stared at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What? Noo—I would definitely not. ‘M just being friendly. I’ll totally come back.” She replied in her usual manner, which gave away that she was lying. You reluctantly let her go and she scurried off.

You sighed heavily as you watched Claire and Jill give each other a knowing look. “You guys too?!” You groaned out and they gave you a sheepish smile. “We’ll come back, we have our phones on sound and we’ll all go home together.” Jill assured, placing her hand on your thigh.

“You guys hate me.” You frowned with a slight pout and Claire pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Pinky promise we’ll come back.” She whispered and you took her pinky in your own. “Okay. Promise.” You sighed out.

Then you watched Claire and Jill disappear, probably to go curl up with Chris and Carlos. You weren’t very amused, the only reason you came was to hang out with them but Leon and his stupid friends came and ruined it.

Whatever. Least you had some entertainment, the coke on the table and the promise of alcohol.

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Leon smirked as he entered the party, he knew he was hot shit. But that lingering fear that he would be some name in the past still brewed within him. Which is why he agreed to tag along. The only question was where were you?

He sauntered deeper into the party with his friends until one by one they were plucked away by girls he recognized from your friend group. He pursed his lips beneath his mask, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he glanced around.

It’s as if fate itself had its way of showing itself as you stumbled into the kitchen, not dressed in much. His eyes widened in surprise as you walked to the punch bowl that was probably spiked by now and got yourself a cup of juice.

He watched from the corner of his eye in awe as you licked the rim of the cup to clean the few drops of juice you got on the side of the cup. He gulped and chastised himself, no he wasn’t supposed to be staring at you like some lovesick maniac. He was trying to prove himself tonight.

He would plow through so much pussy tonight it would leave you behind in the dust. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

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As the night lingered on you got more wasted to forget about the fact you got ditched for some dick. You couldn’t say you were surprised and honestly you were contemplating getting laid. But there was something uneasy about tonight.

Every room you slowly made your way into you saw some guy in the Ghostface costume making out with some girl, borderline groping each other over their clothes. At first you thought it was different guys until you got a good look at the face of the man behind the mask twice to realize it was the same guy with different girls each time. Weirdo. Is all you thought but you were smart enough to remember some guys have a game to see who can get the most kisses, hook ups, blowjobs in one night.

Leon on one hand was shocked each time you walked past him like it was nothing, like you just didn’t care. He was sure he could fuck some girl in front of everyone and you wouldn’t pay them any mind. What the hell?

With a growl he was determined to get your attention somehow, it didn’t even register that he was doing all this for your attention. His body reacting on pure instinct as he broke away from the kiss with the girl. A brief apology as he excused himself. Chasing after you as you drunkenly stumbled back to the kitchen.

He stood at a distance watching you rummage through the fridge. “All my friends hate me, oh my god.” You mumbled under your breath as you found nothing to satisfy your hungry belly. A soft pout on your expression until some guy pressed up against you from behind.

You paused for a second before you stood up straight and turned around to see some random guy in a batman costume staring down at you. “Uhm, hello.” You say as he leans down to inspect your costume. “Oh okay. Just go on ahead—“

“Raven? From Teen Titans?” He asked as his eyes met your own again.

“Oh yeah, my friend and I dressed as Raven and Starfire.” You slurred a bit as he rubbed his thumb over your chin. “Oh—Hellooo.” You giggled as the guy placed his other hand on your hip.

“We’re from the same franchise. I think your costume looks really cool.. I’m Brandon” He uttered softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours and you eagerly reciprocated, whispering your own name into the kiss. You had plans starting to form in your head to go back with this guy to his dorm and hook up with him.

Well, you did at least plan to leave with him. But no way in hell was Leon going to let that happen. He stormed over, his angry expression hidden behind the Ghostface mask, he cleared his throat and tugged you away from the guy.

He glanced between you and the guy in his stupid batman costume. When he realized what he had done he immediately lied on the spot, blurting the first name of your friend that came to mind. “Ashley! Erm—Ashley asked if you could come help her with something.”

You blinked a few times as you processed what was said, realizing that the guy behind the Ghostface costume must know Ashley, which didn’t surprise you. “Oh.”

You bit on your bottom lip and glanced at Brandon. “Sorry. My friend needs me.” You replied and latched onto Leon’s arm. “Lead the way.” You hiccuped.

Leon immediately walked off with you, feeling a sense of pride at the knowledge he ruined that moment for you. Yet when he looked down at your face you didn’t seem to mind, in fact you seemed more worried about your friend.

Leon guided you out the party, letting the fresh air overcome him and you. He didn’t realize how hot it was inside until he stepped outside with you.

“Wait. She left the party?” You stopped in your tracks and gently tugged on Leon’s arm.

“What?” He said, confusion laced in his tone before he remembered the lie he uttered. “Oh yeah—yeah. She uhm, left to go with him but she told him to tell me you needed her.”

You didn’t seem to question him any further, which was a relief for him because he wasn’t sure how much more he could lie as he guided you back to the dorms. More specifically his.

What the fuck am I doing?

Why did I care so much that she was going to kiss some random dude?

Why am I taking her back to my dorm?

I should’ve been on my fourth hook up tonight and yet I haven’t touched any naked body yet.

Leon’s mind raced as he unlocked the door and guided you inside, closing the door behind him and locking it as you called out for Ashley.

“Ashley! Ugh I swear if it’s not something important and you made me miss out on the opportunity to get laid I’m gonna murder you!” You groaned out as you stumbled in your platformed boots; which in theory are horrible to wear while being wasted.

Leon pulled his mask off and tossed it onto his couch, wiping the sweat from his brow before he followed after you, grabbing hold of your wrist to turn you around towards him gently.

“Ew your hands are like.. gross and sweaty.” You made a face of disgust and his nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“Okay that’s a bit rude.” He huffed and looked at you, he would finally be able to see you for you at this moment. It suddenly hit him.

You’re not competition, obviously not if you’re not bragging about your hook up to him, rather your friend who definitely isn’t here.

Hell, you’re just a girl. A girl who he’s jealous of for no reason.

A girl who’s.. really fucking pretty?

His eyes widened as he came to the realization that it wasn’t anger at being replaced, it wasn’t jealousy of hearing your name being uttered time and time again instead of his.

No, that's stupid. I’ll see if she’s really as good as everyone says she is. He was determined to see what was so special about you.

Your nose scrunched up as if mimicking his own expression as you could see different emotions ran across his face. “Uhm hello?—“ You went to wave your hand in front of his eyes when he tightened his grip on you and pulled you in for a kiss with force. Such force that you stumbled.

A quick lie running out of his mouth smoothly as he cupped your face in his hands. “I lied, Ashley didn’t call you here.. I just have such a big crush on you and didn’t know how to express it.” He breathed out as your tongue ran over his bottom lip.

You, to his surprise, didn’t fight back or protest the kiss. You seemed to encourage it more than anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kinda sly of you..” You remarked as you pulled back from the kiss, your lipstick smeared on his soft plump ones. You brought your thumb up to his bottom lip and wiped away as much as you could.

“So what’s your name you big stud.” You teased in a drunken tone, Leon bit his bottom lip and ducked down to capture your lips again. “Leon.” He muttered into the kiss, slowly guiding you to his room with careful steps.

He could tell you were getting tired of how slow he was moving so he patted your thigh to encourage you to hop up. Once you did he grabbed the back of your legs and held you firmly against him, your lips not parting from his own as he stumbled into his bedroom.

He dropped you down onto the bed and finally pulled away. “I have to turn on the lamp..” He mumbled quietly as he reached off to the side to flick the light on. The moonlight helped to illuminate the parts of the room the light didn’t reach fully.

When he looked down at you he felt his heart rate increase. “Fuck.” He cursed and you just smiled at the sight above you.

You reached your hand up to move his hair out of his face. “What? Think I’m pretty or something?” You asked and he nodded, a soft giggle leaving your precious lips.

So precious. He thought as he pressed his left palm above your head against the bed while his other hand came up to cup and fondle your breast above your costume.

You managed to kick your boots off somehow, leaning back against the bed comfortably. “Well that’s sweet of you. I think you’re quite handsome.” You replied as your hair laid spread out behind you.

Leon hesitated for a second, what does he do now? He’s been hooking up with people for awhile now and for once in his life he’s stunned on what to do next. He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a soft moan as you drag his hand up to your mouth to suck on his thumb.

“Hah.. you’re good at that hm?” He cooed, pressing his thumb down against your tongue. With a soft hum from you he adjusted the way he was hovering above you so he could use both hands instead of one.

He dragged his left hand down your torso right down to your pussy, he could feel the heat radiating off of such an intimate part of you. This made his cock throb with want as he pushed the crotch of your costume to the side.

“I guess this costume is pretty much easy access..” He spoke his inner thoughts aloud, watching you blush beneath his watchful gaze before his fingertip brushed against your clit.

You mewled softly and brought your hands up to paw at his chest, wanting his costume off but he clicked his tongue. “Patience. Good things come to those who wait.” He scolded you lightly and gave you a shit eating grin as you frowned.

“You’re like a delicacy.” He explained, rubbing his middle and ring finger through your folds before prodding them against your hole. “You must be handled with care.” He punctuated his words by shoving his fingers inside of you.

You gasped and your back arched off the bed a little. “O-Oh fuck. That feels good.. your fingers are so thick.” You whimpered around his thumb, he snickered softly and pulled his thumb away from your mouth, pressing the wet digit against your clit to rub hard and fast circles against the sensitive little bud while his other hand moved in tandem by fucking his fingers in and out of you.

A slick squelching sound resounding through the room followed by lewd moans coming from you. Who would’ve thought having sex while being high on coke made everything feel ten times better?

“Leon.” You whined softly as your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers. “You’re g’nna make me cum..”

Leon just shrugged and leaned down to nip at your neck. “And? That’s what you want, right baby?” He whispered directly in your ear, sucking on your earlobe. He let out a low chuckle as you cried out a soft yes.

He doubled down on his efforts and you swore you saw stars, definitely. You squealed softly as your orgasm crashed down onto your body like a truck, your cheeks and the tips of your ears turning red and hot with arousal.

“There’s we go. That’s my girl.” He lapped at the pulse point on your neck as you settled down from your high, he took the opportunity to strip himself of his clothes but not before getting a taste of what he was going to be indulging in.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and swirled his tongue around his own digits, sighing softly as he tasted the sweet essence that he had coaxed out of you.

“God. That shits perfect.” Leon bit his bottom lip as he began to remove his clothes, eyeing you hungrily as his cock sprung up into view.

You mumbled something before sitting up on your elbows, your mouth almost instantly watering at the sight of his dick. “Woah.” You blinked a few times before reaching out to touch.

Accidentally grabbing it too hard made Leon hiss in pleasure. “God damn. Easy baby.” He groaned out, and you winced out a soft apology, letting him guide your hand to be the perfect pressure and pace for him to get off on.

“Wait..” You said suddenly which made Leon pause, staring down at you questioningly. “Can you get your uh.. the mask.” You asked coyly, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger slyly as it registered what you wanted in his head.

“Sure thing.” He chuckled and patted your cheek, disappearing for a second before returning with the mask on his head. You grinned wickedly as he stood near the edge of his bed.

“How do I look—“ He was cut off by you yanking him down onto the bed, straddling him as you smirked. “I’m gonna absolutely ravish you.” You sighed out softly, having already removed your clothes when he stepped out the room.

Leon was quite stunned at the 360 shift in attitude. You were just crying on his fingers a few seconds ago and now you’re practically pinning him down. He placed his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.

“Yeah? What if I want to ravish you?” He retorted and you leaned down to press your bare chest against his own, “You could try.” You slurred quietly, but as the hours went on the more you slightly sobered up.

“Guess I’ll have to try super hard then.” He whispered softly as he grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip of it through your folds with a soft hum. You bit your bottom lip as you eventually sank down on him, the two releasing a soft moan in sync with each other.

It didn’t take long for Leon to start bouncing you on his cock as you rode him with an eager pace, it seems the mask was doing things for you that you yourself weren’t even aware would do.

The wet sounds between the two resounding through the room as skin on skin slapping against each other blended into the mix. “Fuck, you’re so tight.. ‘n wet.. ‘n warm.” He whined, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he bucked his hips up into you.

You nodded in acknowledgment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you could feel that coil in your gut tightening with each thrust and bounce. You knew you were close and so did Leon. “I’m almost there.” He panted out, gulping beneath the mask which was starting to prove to be extremely hot. He was sure he had sweat all over his face and head, if he was to remove the mask he was 99% sure that his hair would be thoroughly damp.

Yet if he could get girls to ride him as crazy and as good as you do he would wear it for every hookup encounter he ever had.

You reached your hands up to start punching and twisting your nipples, fondling your tits to tease him. He grunted loudly as he watched you with bated breath. “Fuck, keep playing with yourself like that. Touch that pretty little clit of yours too.” He gritted out as you did so, causing your walls to clamp down tightly around his cock.

Your jaw dropped as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside of you that never failed to give you chills. “I-I can’t hold it..” You cried out, hand still moving quickly against your clit. Leon could see your chest rising and falling quickly and he was just a few seconds away from spilling his own seed.

“I know. W-Where do you want it?” He uttered aloud, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back against his bed. “Mm. Inside, please.” You whined, bucking your hips eagerly.

Leon's eyes shot open and his head shot up to stare at you. “Fuck.. that’s so hot. Are you sure?” He was a bit nervous and didn’t want to cum inside of you if you weren’t 100% sure.

With an eager nod you spoke once more. “Yes! God, please! Inside of me, Leon.” You insisted, throwing your head back in pleasure as he thrusted a couple more times before pulling your hips flush against his own, he came before you did and it only took a few quick rubs from you before your orgasm hit you once more.

You practically collapsed on top of him with a heavy breath, resting your head on his chest as he moved his hands up to pull the mask off, finally being free of the sweaty contraption. He wrapped both his arms around you as his cock started to soften within your warm wet walls.

Fuck. He had to admit that the people were right about you being a good fuck.

Especially when you looked up at him with that soft smile but your eyes told a different story as you wiggled your hips a bit, it’s as if he didn’t even start to soften to begin with as he was fully hard within seconds.

Guess he was in for a long night, just as long as you don’t hear the incessant buzzing coming from your phone that was discarded on his nightstand haphazardly from your friends.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #writing ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#fuckboy!leon #fuckgirl!reader #kinktober

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bratbarzal · 23 days ago

Text

Let It Happen (LH43) 3/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

>PART ONE< / >PART TWO<

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had been early November, in your freshman year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like I said, just curious.”

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

A quiet, recurring presence.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s kind of inevitable like that.

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

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

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

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

But that detachment is waining.

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

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

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

It’s just him.

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

And it’s only been like 2 days.

You miss Luke Hughes.

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

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

Maybe he makes you crazy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you say so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Idiot.

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

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

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

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

“Are you implying I’m a prostitute?”

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

“I don’t need your money.”

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

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

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

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

“What time’s the reception?”

That should also have been a flat out no.

Interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This last week without you has been hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t this cosy?”

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

“I need to talk to your girlfriend.”

“I’m not his-,”

“She’s not my-,”

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

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

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

“Please can we talk? Alone?”

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

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

“What do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sound like Luke.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve never really done that before?”

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

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

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

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

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

And then he turned out to be a complete leech.

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

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

“You haven’t been with anyone since?”

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

“Does that mean you trusted me?”

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

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

Connected? Compatible?

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you’d drop gloves for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want you to stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You definitely enjoy him more than you should.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, actually, I made you something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, are you jealous?”

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

“You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But there’s nothing else clumsy about it.

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

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

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

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

“Please what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve officially lost it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lip gloss? Is she joking?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, you think I like Cole?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ellie-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re equals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it matter?”

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

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

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

“No, I know.”

It’s all you’ve ever known.

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

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

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

It will happen again.

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

It’s almost perfect the way it is.

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

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

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

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

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

“He deserves at least that.”

And damn it, she’s right.

Maybe he even deserves a proper chance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What time is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

Until Jack came back and fucked his plans up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s hardly girlfriend material.”

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

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

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

“You think she’d be hard work?”

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

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

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

“I’ve just heard stuff, you know.”

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

But Luke is building up to that.

He’s been building up to it all summer.

Even before then, without entirely knowing it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ellie didn’t mention all that stuff.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s such an idiot.

He’s such a monumental asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great.

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

Not the kind of girl you date.

Not worth it.

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

Luke thinks you’re an earache.

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

And he’s probably right, you think.

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

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

You can hardly blame him for being two steps ahead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know-,”

“It doesn’t matter-,”

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

“What, giving you an earache?”

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

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

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

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

And clearly, you thought wrong.

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

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

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

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

“You don’t believe that.”

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

“I don’t-,”

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t-,”

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

“I wouldn’t have turned him down.”

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

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

You can’t let him back in.

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

But you have to do this.

“I guess not.”

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

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

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

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

And then the rest follow, uncontrollable and unrelenting.

Inevitable, just like he had said.

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

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

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doitforbangchan · 3 months ago

Text

La petit mort - K.S

Pairing: Non-idol!Seungmin x reader

Warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, death. im keeping this vague for the mystery aspect- read at your own risk. Not proofread :)

WC: 4.9k

Happy Halloween yall 🎃 masterlist

“Have you seen the news?”

“I heard they found the body in the river.”

“The cops are saying there's a serial killer on the loose.”

“Another victim was found behind a dumpster all mangled.”

“Each one is more violent and gory than the rest.”

Everywhere you turned someone was talking about the recent string of murders in your area. For weeks all anyone could talk about was this supposed ‘serial killer’, and after a fifth body was found last night the mania has only increased. Even here at work it was inescapable. The scariest part though, was that you recognized a few of the victims. Not very personally, but you had mingled with them and even flirted with one. And now they were dead.

“Hey y/n?”

You jumped as your thoughts were broken and your eyes tore away from your computer screen. Behind you leaning against the opening of your cubicle was your coworker and newly made friend Seungmin.

“Seung, you scared me!” You scrunched your face at him, then flipped him off when he laughs.

He brought his hands up and wiggled his fingers at you, “Scared I’m gonna get you like that killer? Ooooo better watch out!”

You rolled your eyes, “You know, each victim so far has been a man so I think you’re the one who better watch out or you're gonna be next.” You teased him with a giggle.

Seungmin had started working for your company a few months ago, first as a temp then he was hired on as a full company employee. You were both fast friends since you both liked to poke fun. What had started as him teasing you about the Kuromi calendar on your cubicle wall turned into a wonderful friendship and dare you say- a flirtationship.

“As if.” He scoffed. “I’m not stupid enough to get caught by someone like that.”

You hummed, “Hm, could’a fooled me.” He scowled at you, causing you to laugh.

“Well I was gonna invite you to a show tonight, but if you’re gonna be an ass then forget it.”

“A show? Who’s playing?” You inquired, your interest now peaked.

Seungmins lips curled into a sinister smirk, “No one important.. Just 3Racha.”

“No way!” You shot out of your seat in excitement. The shit eating grin on his face told you he was serious. “Ahh Seung!” You launched yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You had told him many times how much you loved the group and would love to see them live.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so excited, I revoked my invitation, remember?” His tone was light but still sassy as he jested and hugged you back.

“Nope! You put it out into the universe, you can’t take it back!” You squealed and hugged him tighter, then remembered you were still at work and had to act in a more professional manner. You released him quickly and took a step back, your face flush with embarrassment as you cleared your throat. “I mean, it sounds like a good time.”

Seungmin chuckled at your cute change of attitude. “They’re playing at that new venue across town, the small one with the bar. S’ not much but I figured you’d wanna go.” He shrugged in nonchalance. “I can uh, pick you up if you want.”

You nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile on your face. “That would be great!”

“Awesome.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if he was suddenly feeling sheepish, a faint pink creeping up his ears. “It’s a date then.”

The rest of the work day went by so slowly, the hours passing by at a snail's pace making you want to pull your hair out. You weren’t just excited for the concert but to go out with Seungmin. On a date. A real date. So far you had only hung out as friends, usually with at least another person from your friend group so this was a brand new experience. And you were beyond nervous and excited.

You had worked out the details together before you had gone home to change, deciding you would get there a few minutes early to get a drink or two before it started. After getting home you took a quick shower, then put on a pair of black ripped jeans that hugged your ass just right and a maroon colored corset crop top. Adding a red lip and a smokey eye to complete the look. You hoped Seungmin would like it, you really wanted to impress him tonight.

At exactly 8:00 there was a knock at your door. You slipped on your sneakers and opened the door. Seungmin was leaning after your doorframe with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. He was wearing a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans and boots, looking both comfortable and stylish at the same time. And so so hot.

His eyes raked over your form, making you mildly self conscious. “What are you looking at?” You said playfully to get his attention off your body.

His eyes snapped to yours, then they rolled at you, “God forbid I appreciate the outfit you clearly put some effort into. You look great, by the way.. For a gremlin.”

You smacked his arm making him laugh, then you lightly shoved him away so you could lock your door. “Says the troll.”

He leads you down to his car and even opens the door for you, making you secretly swoon. The drive over to the venue was nice, he played songs from 3Rachas latest album getting you both pumped for the performance.

The venue was small, more like a hole in the wall club with a stage in it, but it had a tiny outside area with a fire pit. Luckily it wasn’t that packed yet and the two of you were able to get to the bar pretty quickly. Seungmin paid for your drink no matter how much you had insisted since he had gotten your ticket.

As Seungmin was talking to the bartender about what drinks you wanted you felt a body come up next to you and lean on the bar. “Hey there, gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?”

You looked over to see a decently good looking guy, giving you a flirty look. You shook your head with a polite smile, “No thank yo-”

“Her boyfriend already bought her one.” Seungmins voice was a borderline growl from behind you. Your head swiveled around to see him glaring at the guy. “Get fucking lost.”

“Seung..” You said quietly.

The man put his hands up in defense, “My bad bro, didn’t know. Just trying to shoot my shot.”

“Well shoot your shot on someone else.” Seungmin handed you your drink then led you away from the bar and towards the stage area.

“What was that?” You asked in a hushed tone. “Why did you get so hostile?”

“That guy is a fucking creep, he looked at you like you were a piece of meat.” He sneered, “You don’t need that shit.” He seemed to sense how his change in temperament made you nervous so he dialed it down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so possessive. I just didn’t like his vibe, it was gross.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned into him slightly, “I wasn’t expecting it, is all. And I definitely didn’t expect you to say my boyfriend bought me a drink.”

He was lucky it was dark or you would have seen how flushed he became. “I uh -well I mean- uhh.” You had never seen him so tongue tied and it was both alarming and adorable at the same time.

With a coo you reached up and pinched his cheek. “Aw Seung, it’s ok no need to get flustered, you can be my boyfriend if you want too. ” Seung swatted your hand away and scowled at you slightly. “No I’m serious, I do really like you and would love to have you as my boyfriend, Minnie.”

He broke into a giddy grin. “I mean, since you're practically begging I guess I could be your boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes and reached up and gave his arm a swift pinch. “Ow! I see how it is, you weasel your way into my life then you abuse me? That’s just cruel.” Seungmin couldn’t help but break character at the end and let out a laugh, then pulled you into his arms.

You hugged him in return. Just as you were about to lean up and kiss him the lights in the room dimmed and the stage lights turned on. You spun around quickly to see the group run on stage. You let out a squeal and grabbed Seungmins hand. This was going to be a night you would never forget!

It was a little over an hour into the show now. You were dancing and singing along to each song, the drink in your system making you feel extra good. Seung had been beside you bopping along and laughing at your joyful antics.

“Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.” He leaned in and spoke in your ear. You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “Do not go anywhere, stay right here please.” He added, his eyes giving you a serious stare.

“I promise I’ll stay right here.” You kissed his cheek then looked back at the stage. He gave you a pleased smile and left you to your devices.

It was about 15 minutes later that he returned to you. “Sorry, those lines are long. Did I miss anything good?”

“Duh it’s all good!” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as a slower beat started to play. “But you made it back for my favorite song, sooo I can’t be upset.” He placed his hands on your hips, pulling your body flush against him. Being this close you could see a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, “are you alright, Min? You look a little.. Off.”

He shook his head, dismissing your concerns. “Yeah I’m good, s’ just hot in here, there's a lot of people in here.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well I hope you’re not too hot for a dance?”

He smirked down at you, “For you? Never too hot.”

He suddenly twirled you around, making you giggle then he pulled you back into him, his hand in yours. No one else around you was dancing like this, they were all jumping around or being crazy, and it made it feel extra romantic- that it was like the two of you were in your own little world.

You both swayed together as you looked up at him taking note of all his handsome features. With a bated breath, giving him time to pull away if he wanted, you leaned up slowly and gave him a chaste kiss to his lips.

With a deep flush to your face you gave him a shy smile. Before you could say anything he grabbed your face and pulled you into a deep kiss. You let out a gasp of surprise then melted into him, letting him run his tongue along your bottom lip.

You put your hand on his chest as you tasted his mouth, the light lingering taste of his beer making this even sweeter. Now you were certain that tonight was special. You hadn’t had this much fun or been this enamored in a very long time. It was perfect.

A loud blood curdling scream brought you out of your dreamlike state, making you quickly jump away from Seungmin.

“THERE’S A BODY IN THE ALLEYWAY”

“HELP! HE’S DEAD OH MY GOD HE’S DEAD!”

Someone screamed, causing a massive panic to spread over the crowd. Seungmin grabbed your hand before you could even react, yanking you towards the exit. “Time to go.” He said while maneuvering you both around the clusters of people.

You could hear another person yell out, “SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!”

“What the fuck is going on?” You questioned as you went out the exit, your eyes were wild as they flickered to Seungmin in terror.

“I don’t know, but we’re not sticking around to find out.” He answered, remaining steadfast on getting you both the fuck out of there.

“Seung..” You clung to him as you entered the parking lot. You could faintly hear the sound of approaching sirens, as someone must have immediately called the police. “I’m scared.” You couldn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “What- what if it’s that serial killer? Oh my god, what if they were there with us?”

“Y/n, I would never let anything happen to you. I will always protect you.” There was no amusement in his voice as he spoke to you, leading you to the car and opening your door. He leaned in and buckled your shaking form, then rested a hand on your face again making you look at him. “Hey, I’m serious. I will keep you safe. Do you trust me?”

With a shaky breath you nodded, “Yes, I trust you.”

“Good. Now let me keep you safe by getting the fuck out of here.”

He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car and swiftly driving away. Seungmin offered to drive you home but you really did not want to go back there alone and his house was closer. He took you to his place, keeping an arm wrapped around you the whole time as he unlocked his door until it was closed and locked again.

His house was small, and looking around it was very clean. Borderline too clean. As if it was barely even lived in. Odd, but maybe he just liked his place to be really tidy.

Seungmin led you to the couch, sitting you down. “I’ll grab you some water, help you sober up a little bit.”

You nodded and leaned back into the cushions. A minute later he returned with a glass for you. You accepted it with a quiet thank you, taking a much needed sip. It was then that you looked at the clock on the wall and noticed how late it had gotten.

“Oh shit I didn’t realize it was already almost midnight. I should call an uber or something to take me home.” You took out your phone but it was lowered by Seungs hand.

“You can stay here if you want. It’s already really late and after everything that happened I don’t think I’d trust a rando to take you home.”

Thinking about it you came to the conclusion that he was right and you also did not want to spend your night alone. “Ok, only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. You’re my girlfriend now after all, you can stay whenever you want.” He smiled warmly then offered you his hand. “Come on, I’ll get you some pjs.”

His room was a little messier, with his bed not neatly made and a few plants by the window. Seungmin opened his dresser and grabbed some sweats and a baggy shirt, handing them to you. You thanked him and without even thinking about you began stripping. Or maybe you thought about it a little bit, glancing at him when you pulled down your pants to see him gulp then awkwardly avert his eyes.

After you were dressed in the pjs you threw yourself at his bed, then opened your arms as an invitation for him to join you. He threw his own sweats on and took off his shirt, giving you a quick view of his broad chest.

Ever since you had met him you had thought Seungmin was cute- sexy even- to an extreme degree. But seeing him tonight revved that up to a hundred. The way he had gotten you out of danger and brought you to safety, how he had stayed calm and collected during the chaos.. He was like your knight in shining armor, and you wanted to thank him personally.

Seungmin climbed in with a snicker after turning off the light, letting you wrap around him before he pulled the blankets over both your forms. After adjusting to have you resting upon his chest he let out a deep sigh of content.

“Are you alright, Seung?” You whispered into the darkness after hearing his sigh. You let your hand rest atop his chest, running softly along his skin.

“More than alright, babe.” He answered then kissed the top of your head. “What about you? That shit was pretty traumatic.”

You nodded, “Yeah, m’ alright. Happy to be here with you.” You then poked him in the chest, “Don’t let it get to your head though!”

His chest rumbled from his deep chuckles at your antics, “Never.” The hand you had on him very slowly moved down to his stomach, tracing the light trail of hair and making his breath lighty hitch. “What are you up to, little devil?”

“Nothin,” your answer was coy as you continued to lower your hand, “Just wanted to.. Thank you for keeping me safe tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” The smirk on his lips was incredibly clear in his voice. One of his own hands came up to pet along the side of your thigh. “Thank me how?”

Finally you made your way to the front of his sweats, feeling his bulge that was steadily growing under your touch. You kissed his neck tenderly as you palmed him, his whine and buck of his hips giving you the confirmation you needed that he wanted you to touch him just as much as you wanted to give it to him.

“Nnngh, so that’s how. Alright sweetheart, you can thank me in any way you want.” He groaned slightly, the husk in his voice causing a flood in your own underwear.

With tentative movements you pulled the band of his sweats down his thighs until his member was released. The man let out a slight hiss when your hand made contact with his now bare skin. From what you could tell by feeling alone he was big. Big enough that you couldn’t even fully wrap your fingers around him. You briefly wondered if that would even fit inside of you.

“That’a girl. Go ahead and rub the tip fo’ me.” You did as he requested, your thumb running over the slit on his tip and collecting the precum that was beginning to leak out and using it as lubricant on his dick. “Fuck, that’s it baby.”

Seungmins fingers traveled from your thigh to your own covered center, giving you a quick circle motion over the bottoms then diving his hand into them, finding your now drenched core. “Mm, Seung.” You whined when his fingers expertly found your clit.

“Jesus christ you're so wet. What made you so sopping, honey? You like using your hand to get me off, hmm?” He had a bite to his voice that was both teasing and dominating that made you flood even further. As if he could feel it he commented, “ Fuck you do like it don’t you? Bet you like my own fingers buried in your sweet cunt too huh?” Then he shoved two long digits into you, making your hips buck into him and a wanton moan escaped you.

With a rapid nod you clenched down on his fingers, “Uh huh, so good Seung.”

“I know love, I know. But you know what would feel even better?”

“Hmm?”

“Let me put my cock in you instead of my fingers.”

You clenched down on him again at the suggestion, “Yes please. Want it.” As soon as the words left your lips you were suddenly thrown onto your back with your head bouncing off his pillow, a gasp of surprise leaving your lips. The sheets were torn off of the both of you and your bottoms were yanked down and off your legs as well, until your lower half was completely bared to him.

He climbed on top of you and crashed his mouth against yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip making you squeal from the small burst of pain. You could feel him lineup his member with your hole, his tip going to push into you slowly.

Your back arched at the intrusion. You were right, he was big. So big that you could feel your walls squeezing the life out of him as he stretched you out. “Seuunnggmiiinn oh my gooooood.” You cried into his neck as he fully seated himself inside of you.

“Fuck babe, you’re so fucking tight, you might just squeeze my dick off if you don’t relax.” Seungmin groaned, the bliss clearly overtaking him as he tried not to move too much and let you adjust. After a few moments you started to get used to his size within you and began to relax a little. “There we go, sweet thing. Imma move now, alright?”

“Mmhmm.”

With your go ahead he slowly started thrusting into you. You could feel each drag of his thickness against your walls, the sensation making you throw your head back in pleasure, your eyes half open and watery. Holding himself up with one arm he used the other to rub harsh figure eights on your sensitive nub that resides between you.

“God your so fucking beautiful.” He moaned, “Can’t believe I have the most perfect woman in my bed and that you're all mine.” He picked up his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room. “M’ never letting you go. Not now that I have you. Never.”

His words should have been alarming and at any other time they would have made you question what he meant- but your brain was turning to mush due to the intense amount of pleasure he was giving you. You could barely remember your own name nevermind the nonsense he was spewing.

You could feel the dam within you about to break, your high about to crash over you. “S-seungminnie, I’m gonna- gonna cum.”

“Do it. Cum all over my cock, baby. Give it to me now.”

With a scream you came, the band snapping and giving way to euphoria, his name a jumbled mess as you clung to him and shook. “Min- Seung- minnie oh my god, nnghhh.”

“Mmmm, good girl, feels so fucking good. Gonna cum, gonna fill you up and make you mine. Gonna pump you full.” He practically growled and put his face into your neck, sucking harsh dark marks onto your skin as a show of ownership. There was a sudden hotness that shot inside of you, coating your insides with his white essence. It was a good thing you were on birth control or you were sure that you would have gotten pregnant.

Seungmin trembled as he finished giving you his load, his arms threatening to give out as he lowered his body to rest atop you. The sweaty man laid gentle kisses on your now marred skin, the softness being a great comfort for you.

After a few moments he rolled off of you, curling you up into his side. You were so exhausted that as soon as he had exited you you had begun to drift off into a deep slumber, nuzzling into him until darkness took you.

You were awoken by the sun shining through the windows the next morning. Blearily opening your eyes you looked around your surroundings, seeing you were still in Seungmins bed and you were still very naked. A heat rushed to your face when you remembered what you had done last night, a giddiness filling you. The man was beside you, snoring quietly as he kept sleeping.

As much as you wanted to cuddle him and go back to sleep you could feel the remnants of your naughty activities coating your lower region. With a sigh you swung your legs over the edge, grabbing the fallen sweats and slipping them on. You noticed your phone on the nightstand and grabbed it on your way to the bathroom. You decided to go out into the hall bathroom as to not wake up Seungmin.

While you were doing your business you opened your social media. As you were scrolling you came upon the news report for what happened at the venue last night. Curiosity got the better of you so you clicked on the link.

Immediate shock filled you as you read the article. There was a picture of the victim from last night, and a deep chill rocked you when you saw that it was the man who offered to buy you a drink that had been murdered. According to the report his face was bashed in against a brick wall until his head had become mush.

You were so engrossed and mortified by the article that when you left the bathroom you hadn’t noticed you opened the wrong door, and instead of going back into Seungmins room you found yourself in an entirely different room.

A gasp of horror left you when you took in the contents of the new room. Along the walls were pictures of men- not just any men but all of the victims of the serial killer. Next to their face pictures were cut outs from news articles about their murders and graphic photographs of the crime.

What the actual fuck is this? Why would he have all this?

Your eyes scanned the contents, seeing laid out maps of homes and locations. There was a deafening beating within your chest as your brain ran a million miles a second, trying to figure out just what you were seeing. With shaking legs you backed out of the dark room, not realizing you were no longer alone until your back met a sturdy chest.

You spun around to find his hard stare, your own eyes wide with fright.

“You weren’t supposed to find this.” Seungmin spoke lowly, a sternness in his tone that sent shivers down your spine.

“S-seungmin, I-i don't understand, what is all of this?” You tried to back away from him but he grabbed you by your arms before you could, his fingers digging roughly into you making you wince. “Ow, Seungmin let me go.”

“I can’t. Don’t you see I can’t let you go? Not now when I have you. After everything I did for you, I can never let you go.”

Pure fright was the only thing that filled you as you came to realize exactly what he meant.

“Seungmin.. What did you do?”

His face never changed as he yanked you to him forcefully, his nails threatening to leave bloody crescents from how hard he gripped you. You tried to swing your arms to get him off of you but he was too strong, pinning your arms down and shoving you vehemently down the hall until he reached another room you had never been.

Seungmin swiftly opened the door then using his strength he shoved you into the room, your body falling to the hard floor. He closed it behind him quickly, his dark orbs trained on you.

You were crying now, salty tears steadily streaming down your face. With a coo Seungmin crouched in front of you, reaching his hand out to wipe your tears. You shuffled back away from him, trying to create as much distance between you as possible.

Seungmin sighed in frustration and stood up again. He began pacing and pulling at his hair, “I should have known you would have a bad reaction. I should have waited before bringing you here. But fuck I just couldn’t help myself. Stupid, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“I- I don’t.. Seungmin what is going on?” You were practically begging for answers.

“They had to go.” He said simply. “Each one of them was a threat to you- to us. I just knew if I let them live they would pursue you. They’d try to put their slimy disgusting hands on you, touch you as if they owned you. No, no I would- could never let that happen.” He crouched again, invading your space making you squeal and turn your head away. He grabbed your face and forcibly turned your head to face him. “You belong with me, not with them.”

You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t let you. “Seungmin.. This is insane. Yo-you can’t just kill someone because they talked to me.”

A borderline evil smirk overtook his face, “But that’s the thing, I can. And I did. For you.” He leaned in closer so your noses were touching. Your whole body was shaking in complete fear. You couldn’t believe that the man you were falling for was a serial killer. That the playful, sassy man who danced with you and played smash bros could possibly be this twisted and lethal.

His next words instilled terror in you that would stay with you for as long as you lived.

“Everything I do is for you. But don’t worry, babe. Now that I have you here safe with me I don’t need to kill anyone else. Because no one is ever going to come near you again. It’ll be just you and I forever.”

The deep pit within you told you exactly what he meant; you were never leaving here. He was going to keep you trapped in his web until your last breath.

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dontlookatmytmntcollection · 11 months ago

Text

SOCIAL BATTERIES

Do the boys REALLY like people that much?

Character studies.

Going from the most Extroverted to the least.

- 🟠 -

Mikey is THE definition of an extrovert

Suprise, suprise.

I keep thinking about him making fun of Casey constantly, and his fist bump with Vern, or him working the crowd on Halloween. And his eye rolls at Raph and Leo

Can be annoying af and play dumb, but half the time he knows way more than he let's on. And it's SUPER hard to get him angry.

Would be in a fraternity tbh. And like, seven sport teams.

The world is a lesser place with him cooped up away from it.

He's a HUGE teaser and talker. Loves to flirt and prank and play the vibes.

He's a NATRUAL at it

Give him ONE conversation. ONE chance, and he can get literally anyone out of their shell.

Loves having April or Casey or Vern around. Loves teasing them or harassing them tbh.

The bigger his social circle, the better his life.

Is usually a HUGE buffer between humans and his grumpy, tired brothers.

He would be the LIFE of the party. Would be an excellent host of an event, because he'd be everywhere talking to everyone. Remembering everyone by name and face, introducing people to one another, so on and so forth.

He would have multiple friend groups everywhere he goes, with all sorts of different types of people.

Out of his brothers, I see Mikey having the body count tbh

Also probably jumped into a relationship too soon and got hurt early on. He'll be way more ready for the next one.

He has SO MUCH TEXTING TO DO.

His favorite is snap chat.

The BEST out of all his brothers at reading social cues and body language. By FAR.

Can find something to talk about with ANYONE

He's been wishing to socialize his WHOLE LIFE. So he DO!

Probably the only one that can confront and process trauma in a healthy manner.

Not at all afraid of deeper, more meaningful conversations.

Often finds himself the one initiating deep conversations with people who need it the most (his brothers).

He knows there is a time and place for problem solving. And sometimes you just gotta sit with your feels.

Something his brothers STRUGGLE WITH

- 🟣 -

Donatello might not be EXTROVERTED but he is outgoing.

Second to Mikey, everyone in his family has a close relationship with Donnie.

Super caring and fun and inquisitive with everyone he meets.

He'll be down for ANYTHING. Sports, games, cooking, drives, crafts, working out, adventures or pranks or geeky movie nights.

He might not always be good at INICIATING these with strangers but he loves going along with stuff.

Loves showing people his projects and stuff and letting people use them or have them.

Will be there for his friends the instant they ask.

At a party he'd be in another room having a conversation with two or three people.

But I also see him hanging around girls a little more than guys. Finds the girlies to be easier company than guys.

He's been on discord for YEARS. He had human friends before even Mikey did.

But.

He's HYPERVIGALANT of the vibe

Extreme empath.

He does NOT like confrontation.

A HUGE people pleaser.

Feels he's stepping on eggshells around his loved ones and friends. In an effort to keep them happy.

He's a sensitive guy.

If he's told to shut up or be quiet, especially if he's excited or talking outloud- he's modified. He WILL shut up. For a while.

His brothers know this. While they get exasperated sometimes, they rarely interrupt him.

Does NOT like gossip. Don't gossip with him, he hates it

Makes him feel gross and mean.

Hates when people are upset or sad in any way.

When vibes get rough he does not cope well. Often chooses to avoid or straight up leave.

When things get heated he gets overstimulated quickly.

If he can't leave, he shuts down. He won't talk and if he does it's very quiet

Doesn't know how to help or address emotional things either. He prefers to let it go and just move on, leaving stuff unaddressed.

He's an outgoing and pleasant guy, but he definitely doesn't mix with everyone.

- 🔴 -

Meeting Raphael is a terrifying experience.

Because he talks and looks at you like he hates you already.

But he doesn't hate people.

He just sucks at them.

Raph wants a normal life just as badly as Mikey does.

Raphs love language is harassment???

He shows his love by annoying his loved ones. Or through teasing and banter. Or wrestling his bros to the ground or pull them into rough hugs.

However

When he meets new people he isn't there to make FRIENDS.

He's there to let you know that if you bullshit with his family you're gonna get whooped.

So he will posture and glare and tower and maybe even roll his neck or crack knuckles to anyone.

Literally anyone.

Remember how rude he was to April?

So when he can't do any of that- no banter, no pranks, no wrestling and no INTIMIDATING-

He is COMPLETELY at everyone's mercy

Put him in a group of girls, or take him to a party or a bar. ANYTHING out of his comfort zone.

He's very awkward.

Only because he's kinda quiet

And honestly SUPER shy.

Wants to be liked SUPER badly.

He doesn't know how to make friends. At all

Flirt with Raph. I dare you.

You'd terrify him

Is the type of guy at a party to stick to the side of someone he knows and never. Leave. It.

But he finds out he gets along with blue collar guys the most.

And Raph has this super power

He can detect if you're a good or bad character super quickly. Much quicker than everyone else in his family. Like, one conversation in.

Not that he really believes himself. He thinks everyone's out to get him. or his family

If he's not making fun of you, you know he doesn't like you.

Is the type of guy to have quality over quantity relationships.

Hates texting. Honestly hates social media and technology beyond like...insta reels or something. He doesn't like sitting on his phone or video games all the much. Half because he breaks things easily or gets easily frustrated at leaning how to work it.

Rather be doing something active or working on a car or build something or carve stuff.

Might not be as outgoing as Donnie or Mikey, but if people manage to ACTIALLY get him to do something fun, he is ALL IN and having a BLAST.

The kinda guy to crash at his friends house and just chill.

He recharges when he's in proximity of his loved ones. Not always SOCIALIZING but having his people close.

-🔵-

Our REAL introvert

He struggles to socialize even with his BROTHERS

Who are the only people in the world he allows himself to be even semi relaxed around

A conversation with anyone other than his dad and brothers is the opposite of a relaxing/easy activity.

He's honorable, polite, and formal.

But Leo is and EXTREMLY cold character.

Sometimes even a bit cruel and scary to strangers.

Has a weird habit of wrapping his arm kindly around someone he's about to hurt

Struggles to see even April as more than an 'asset' or 'person dad holds dear'

Doesn't see Vern as a friend. Doesn't see Casey as a friend.

Leo is the only turtle April doesn't have a strong connection to. Not out of lack of trying.

Tolerates social situations only if he falls into a leading (controlling) role.

Doesn't like large groups of people.

Very quiet otherwise.

Struggles to initiate activities with his brothers.

He sucks at it.

He is always receptive to when they reach out to him though

And kinda has a fear of getting turned down. Getting turned down by his brothers makes him sick to his stomach.

Not that he admits it.

He also doesn't handle rejection with any grace. Gets just a LITTLE pushy to make you either feel bad or like he's in charge

His brothers still gotta tolerate him being a little bossy and stuck up and a fun-sucker while they hang out with him. They know he can't help it.

But Leo is super relieved every single time they invite him to do something.

What would Leo be like at a party? Leo never WENT to the party. And if he DID, he'd be outside, trying to soak in the quiet. Listening to the party from out here.

or hug him, or just express somehow they still want him around or like him. Or love him. Because those moments are getting rarer and rarer the older they get.

He's completely alone other than his dad. At least he's thought so his whole life

Would be the one petting the cat. Or dog. Not the type to go LOOKING for it, but if it came to him, he would.

Yes, he texts, but never outside of absolute necessity. Or if his brothers remind him of April's birthday.

He likes to read

Even if Donnie, Mikey and Raph are together in the lair having fun, Leo is often by himself somewhere else.

He recharges alone. He does calligraphy and he sketches SOMETIMES. Little stick figures fighting with space guns or something.

But a lot of what he reads are super geeky stuff. Like star wars novels or manga.

But don't tell anyone.

Splinter is his preferred company. He adores time with his dad. He'll spar and train and talk with his dad often.

Doesn't care about having friends but he wants a girlfriend SUPER badly. More than all three of his brothers combined

Being alone with him sucks if you like to talk. He gives you a LOOK that SCREAMS shut the fuck up.

It takes EXTREMLY specific personalities to get Leo a little soft for them. A quiet person with a good sense of humor.

And the likely hood he'll ever get out to find and meet them is next to none existent.

But hey

Even after like, ALL OF THIS

It's not hard to get Leo to smile

#tmnt leonardo #bayverse #leonardo #tmnt bayverse #my writing #tmnt x reader #raphael #donatello #tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #bayverse tmnt #bayverse leonardo #bayverse donatello #bayverse raphael #bayverse turtles

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urfavleo777 · 3 months ago

Text

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, oral (f receiving), enemies to lovers.

pairing colby brock x fem¡reader

HALLOWEEN prompt: The new tenants of the house you’re haunting are being haunted by another ghost. War ensues.

As a ghost, you liked to make your presence felt.

It was fun to torment the living by slamming cabinets and putting on your favourite songs when you were still human. Terrified owners, convinced that they were dealing with a demon, started hanging crosses and pictures in huge numbers. In every corridor of this Victorian house there was at least one painting with the image of Mary. Within 24 hours they all landed on the floor with an incredible bang.

So you weren't surprised when they brought in a priest one day. As if that would help. The priest blessed the house in vain and when he left, the owners tried to communicate with you using the Ouija board. They asked a lot of questions and didn't get a single answer from you.

You thought they were fools. You've given them so many signs that you don't want them here. All you wanted was to get them all off your property. Why couldn't they just pack up their things and find another house? Maybe because not every house looked like a fortress frozen in time.

The most active place was your room upstairs, which now, slightly renovated, belonged to their son. You particularly liked the youngest boy in the family, he seemed to be the most terrified and often you'd do things specifically targeting him, including whispering creepy sounds in his ear at night to keep him on edge.

You didn't remember when nor how you died. The only thing you remembered about your previous life was music. You loved music, sometimes you even replayed a Michael Jackson concert in your head that you, as a human, had managed to attend. So you must have been stuck here since the late 1980s, haunting this place for years, quietly watching over it.

Everything was fine until the other ghost showed up.

“Show yourself!” You gasped, trying to keep your voice steady.

A figure began to take shape out of the air, the image fuzzy but slowly growing clearer. As you stared at the spectre, it was clear that the presence before you had once been a man. You could see the sharp features and strong jawline from decades gone by.

A chill went up your spine as you realized the clothing of the ghost was very different from a modern outfit. It was older, but well-made and expensive-looking, like something an 1800s aristocrat might wear.

“You're new,” he said, his voice low and smooth, yet there was something cold in his tone. “This isn't your home.”

He stepped forward, and you could see the details of his face, a face that was sharp and handsome. He seemed to be in his mid-20s, with dark, intense eyes. He was wearing a long coat, perfectly tailored and a stark black and white color. A dark hat was in his hand, as if he'd just taken it off.

“I...” You swallowed hard, feeling overwhelmed by fear, but also this strange pull of curiosity. The ghost looked at you, his expression almost disdainful.

“You're the one who's been haunting this house,” he stated. It was clearly not a question. “You've been making yourself quite the nuisance, haven't you?”

“Before I died in this house, it was mine. I can scare anyone I want here and no one, especially no one who looks like... someone straight out of the Middle Ages, will stop me.”

"Oh, do I look out-of-date to you? I suppose fashion has changed since my time. But let me tell you something that has not: this house is mine. We built it. The Brock family.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Wait... Brock family?” You felt a sudden jolt of realization. “Brock... you mean the family that built the original part of this house?”

His expression hardened. “Yes. The Brock family. Every stone, every brick, belonged to my ancestors.”

The ghost smiled, though his smile was more of a sneer. He began to pace, the sound of his steps echoing throughout the chamber.

“Anyway, you think that dying in the house gives you the right to terrify its owners?” A small smile curled on his lips.

“I am the owner. And they deserved it,” You retorted, though you voice lacked the conviction you wished it to have.

The ghost cocked his head to the side. "Oh? And why is that?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension.

“They don't... value the history of this place. They are turning this house into some kind of religious cult. Have you seen these crosses? The only thing missing from perfection here is the Pope.”

He arched an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “A sentimental ghost. How... touching.”

“Better than a fallen aristocrat.” You retorted, though the ghost's smile was sending chills up your spine.

He leaned in close. His voice dropped to a murmur. “You think scaring them is enough?” He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a finger gently against your cheek. You felt a chill go through you, but not of coldness. “Why not do something... more entertaining, Y/N?” As your name left his lips, you almost died a second time. How did he know? You tried to hide your shock, “How- how do you know my name?”

The ghost had a small, smug smirk on his face. "I know a great many things, sweetheart,” he replied, his tone almost mocking. “Oh, and where are my manners? Colby Brock, son of the home's original owner.”

You hesitated for a moment, wary of him. But, almost against your will, you reached out to take his hand. It was strangely warm and as you felt the solidity of his hand in yours, you stared at him. He was a ghost like you, yet he seemed different. More... real, more present.

“How can I... feel you?” You whispered, your voice shaking a bit.

Colby's smirk widened. “I've been watching you... Y/N,” he said. You didn't like the way he said your name, almost as if it was an endearment.

“You've been watching me?” Your voice came out in a whisper.

“As much as a ghost can,” he replied, running a thumb over the back of your hand. “I have to admit, you're fascinating. A mischievous spirit with a penchant for causing chaos.”

His words made you feel uneasy, but you didn't pull your hand away. The feeling of his skin on yours was so... foreign. It had been decades since you felt a physical touch.

He shrugged, his other hand tracing a path around your wrist. It was strangely intimate.

“A little amusement,” he said, his voice low. “Your antics were a pleasant distraction from this eternal haunting of my former home.”

You tried to pull your hand away, but his grip was firm. “Let me go,” You murmured, though there was no force in your voice.

Colby chuckled, his eyes locked with yours. “Or what?” he asked, his grip tightening just slightly. “What are you going to do? Cause a few bumps in the night? Knock some glasses off the kitchen counter?”

A small smirk played on his lips. “You can't do anything to me, sweetheart. Besides, this is my house.”

“It's my house too,” You retorted.

“Oh, no, my dear,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “This house has always been and always will be mine.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. You better tell me how we can scare them that they shit in their pants.”

Colby's expression turned smug. “Oh, a variety of things. A voice in the middle of the night, an unseen force knocking around the trinkets they'd placed. What fun would it be to tell you, sweetheart?”

His condescending tone irritated you, but even more concerning was how you were letting him hold your hand and the way your heart skipped a beat as he leaned in.

“Perhaps we could have a different kind of… fun.”

You felt your cheeks warm despite yourself. You wanted to argue with him, but something in his gaze kept you pinned in place.

Colby tilted your chin up gently, making you meet his eyes. “Oh?” he murmured, his tone lowering, “Is that what you want, honey?”

Your breath hitched at his words and the soft touch. He was right, you missed the physicality of life, the sensation of being touched and held. His thumb gently traced the curve of your cheek. “I can give you what you want, Y/N,” he murmured, leaning in close enough that his lips were practically brushing yours.

Colby moved closer, his thumb tracing a slow path down your neck. You felt your breath hitch as a shiver ran down your spine at his touch.

He whispered, his voice low, “I know exactly how you feel. How your body aches for a touch that it will probably never feel again. I understand that, honey. Better than you know.”

He paused, so close you could almost taste his breath.

“But it comes with a price, you know,” he murmured. “You'll be mine. My haunting. My sweetheart.”

“Take me.” Was all you could manage to say.

Colby's smirk turned into a satisfied smile. "Gladly, sweetheart," he murmured. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and hungry, a century's worth of longing and loneliness poured into the contact, like he was trying to memorize every detail.

With a low growl, he pulled you fully into his lap, pressing you against him. His kisses grew more urgent, his hands gripping your waist, pulling your body against his.

“You have no idea how badly I've waited for this,” he murmured, kissing down your neck.

You threw your arms around his neck, feeling his breath, his skin, his solidness beneath you. It felt like a dream you’d spent decades having, and now it was here, real and solid.

Colby continued to kiss along your neck, his lips moving down to the hollow of your throat. When he reached the base of your neck, he paused, then gently bit down, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You let out a gasp, your nails digging into his back as he found a sensitive spot. Colby let out a dark chuckle, kissing and biting lightly as if to draw out more reactions from you.

“I need you, Colby,” you whispered between kisses. “Colby,” you whined, burying your hands in his hair.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Colby whined, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “Let me make you feel good, okay?” You nodded, settling down on the sofa where he knelt in front of you, taking you in. He cursed under his breath, looking you up and down.

“Colby,” you whined, arching your back. You needed his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything.

“I know, pretty,” he soothed, threading his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. “I will take care of you.” He slid them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

He took off his own shirt, threw it carelessly and let it get lost on the floor. He slid down to the bottom of your bra, teasingly touching the fabric before he put his hand behind your back and skillfully undid your bra in one easy movement. You arched your back again, the straps of your bra slipping off your shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect. You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, biting your lip as his hand left your breasts and moved down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He moved his fingers down some more, feeling where the arousal was leaking through the panties.

“Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispered. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kissed your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travelled to where you needed him most.

There’s something depraved about the way he was crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spread your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settled in between them.

He stopped and looked at you through closed eyes. You could see the want – no, need – in the way his muscles flexed and the way his jaw worked. But he hesitated, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rose and fell quickly as your eyes searched for his next move.

He finally pressed a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbled against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You threw your head back, whimpering his name like a mantra. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard.

“F-fuck!” You cried out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he set a relentless pace. “Colby!”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.” He soothed and squeezes your hip, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion. Your walls fluttered again. “That’s it,” he cooed. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He started licking harder, faster.

Your body was his, completely at his mercy, and from the look in his eyes, he knew it. Your eyes fluttered shut, silently and vocally begging him to take control.

“That’s right, baby,” he growled, voice thick with lust. “Cum for me, darlin’.”

His words ignited something primal in you, your body responding to his dominance as you gasped for breath, legs shaking beneath you. You screamed in pleasure, causing Colby to groan.

“All mine,” He hissed, licking up the juices. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Fuck.

The youngest of the family, whom you loved to scare so much, spent the night away from his room. He couldn't bear to listen to the sound of furniture falling from the top floor.

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock fanfiction #sam and colby fanfiction #sam and colby smut #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x reader #colby brock x you #colby brock x oc

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springtyme · 3 months ago

Note

Maybe something with Steve x f!reader where she is a bit inexperienced and insecure when it comes to dating ad steve askes her out but she is oblivous and thinks it's just as freinds but steve really likes her

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: If anyone had told your high school self that in a few years you would become friends with Steve Harrington, you would never have believed them, but here you are.

word count: 4.1k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗) 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

The crisp autumn air wraps around you like a cozy blanket as you step out of your house, one hand clutching your purse while the other fiddles nervously with the hem of your sweater. Tonight is the annual Hawkins fall festival, and you are beyond excited, you’ve always loved this time of year and Halloween is just around the corner. You’re especially excited because Steve asked you if the two of you should go together, which, if you had been told this a few years back, you would never have believed.

Back then, Steve Harrington was the quintessential popular kid: the cocky, charming, handsome, jock, always surrounded by a group of friends, the king of cool himself. He was all the things that you were not. You were the quiet girl, the one who blended into the background, often lost in books or daydreams. You had admired him from a distance, never once as much as imagined that he’d ever as much as acknowledge your existence.

But people change. Steve has transformed over the years, shedding his old persona for something deeper, something more substantial. You have become friends after you started working full time at family video with him this summer. It was awkward at first; the memories of your high school days still lingered in the back of your mind. But as the weeks passed, you found a rhythm together. Steve’s charm was still there, but now it was complemented by kindness and genuine interest in those around him. He was no longer just the popular kid; he was just Steve—and you happen to really like this Steve.

Sometimes you think that he might feel the same way about you. There are those moments when his gaze linger a little too long, or when he will lean in a little closer than needed to laugh at something silly you said. He seems to always remember the little things—your favorite candy, the books you love, how you like your coffee—there’s a comfortable warmth that has built between you, something that simultaneously feels completely normal and natural yet so confusing.

You don’t know what to make of it all, all you know is the butterflies in your stomach are practically doing the cha-cha everytime he looks at you, which makes you feel silly, you’re not his type, but the feeling is undeniable.

You take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs, and step outside fully. Steve is standing by his car, a warm smile lighting up his face as he catches sight of you. His hair is slightly tousled by the wind, and he’s wearing that dark green sweatshirt you mentioned under his jacket that you had mentioned you liked a few weeks ago.

“Hey,” he calls out, a smile spreading on his face as he sees you, his eyes sparkling in the golden light of the last sun of the day that illuminates the street.

“Hey!” you call back, trying to match his energy as you walk towards him. You notice the way his gaze flickers from your face to your outfit—a simple but cute sweater and jeans—but also the way you feel inexplicably warm inside, even as a light breeze rustles the leaves around you.

“You look great,” he compliments, his smile growing wider as he opens the car door for you. You slip inside, fighting back the blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’m really glad that you said yes to come with me, I really wasn’t sure if you would say yes.”

You nod, excitement bubbling in your chest. “Of course. This is going to be fun.”

Steve smiles at your words, a soft one that makes your heart flutter even more. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admits, starting the engine with a low roar.

The drive to the festival passes quickly, filled with casual chatter and laughter, though you can’t help but feel like there is a slight tension in the air between you. The festival lights twinkle in the distance as you park, and your heart races at the sight of all the attractions—the hay bales, the pumpkins, and the Ferris wheel glowing in the twilight.

As you step out of the car, Steve reaches to grab your hand, a brief but electric moment that makes your pulse quicken. It surprises you, and you, more on instinct than thought, do a little jolt of surprise as you feel his warmth enveloping your fingers. Your action seems to startle him as well. He quickly lets go, and you both look at each other, your cheeks heating as if you’ve both just felt the thrill of a secret.

“Uh, how about we start with the ferris wheel?” he suggests, trying to mask his own awkwardness as you move towards the ticket booth, the festive air filled with laughter and the scent of caramel apples.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you reply, your voice a little shaky as you try to regain your composure. You keep your eyes on the colorful lights strung above, using them as a distraction from the fluttering in your stomach. Friends hold hands, especially in crowded areas, it’s completely normal, but you have just made it weird.

You purchase your tickets, and while waiting in line, you sneak glances at him, noticing how the festival lights cast a warm glow on his features.

As you stand in line to the ride, the excited energy of the festival surrounds you, yet the moment feels isolated within its own bubble. The cheerful screams from the rides seem distant as you steal another sideways glance at Steve. His brow is furrowed slightly in concentration as he watches the ferris wheel turn, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself grounded amidst the bubbling awkwardness that seems to linger between you.

“Do you… um, like ferris wheels?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, breaking the comfortable silence while trying to affirm the choice of ride.

You chuckle lightly, appreciative of the effort he’s making to fill the space with conversation. “I think they’re great. It’s nice to see everything from up high, even though I’m a little afraid of heights.” The confession spills from your lips before you can second-guess it.

“Uh oh,” he grins, his tension visibly dissipating as a laugh escapes him. “Guess I’m gonna have to protect you from the edge then.”

“Right,” you reply, your heart racing a little faster. There’s something so comforting in his charm, so disarming in the way he manages to make you laugh while also feeling slightly vulnerable.

There’s only a few more people ahead, you can hear the laughter and excited shrieks of those already atop the ferris wheel, and your heart flutters nervously. The excitement of the ride combines with the nervous energy between you and Steve, creating a concoction of emotions that feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Finally, your turn arrives, and you step into the little cabin of the ferris wheel, Steve following behind you. The moment the door closes, you feel an immediate sense of closeness. You both sit on the bench as the ride begins its slow ascent.

A gentle breeze wafts through the cabin as you start climbing higher. The view below spreads out like a beautiful tapestry—people laughing, lights twinkling in the cool night air, and the pumpkin patch glowing in the distance. For a moment, despite that familiar feeling of fear that jolts through your stomach and chest from the height, you’re moved by the beauty of it all.

But just as quickly, the magic of the moment shifts, and you become acutely aware of Steve next to you. The cabin sways slightly, and instinctively, you lean in closer to him, hoping to steady yourself. Your shoulder brushes against his, and the side of your thighs presses against each other, and suddenly, there’s an electric charge in the air again.

Steve seems to notice, too; his breath hitches slightly, and he glances at you, his brown eyes searching yours for a brief moment before darting away, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. The world outside the ferris wheel becomes a distant memory, the vibrant festival lights melting into a blurred backdrop as the two of you share this intimate space.

“How’re you holding up?” he asks, attempting to calm you with that signature Steve Harrington smile. It’s warm and inviting, and you can’t help but return it, hoping it conveys the mix of excitement and anxiety brewing within you.

“Honestly?” you start, biting your lip slightly as you consider whether to admit the truth. “I’m a little scared, but being up here with you helps.” You hope your honesty doesn’t make things awkward again.

“I’m always available whenever you need to ride a ferris wheel,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, but both of you can sense the shift. His arm brushes against yours, and you can feel his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your sweater.

“What would I do without a friend like you,” you reply. You really are grateful to have him in your life, you’ve never been the girl with the most friends and most of the ones you have moved away from Hawkins after high school, but in this moment you can’t help but wish that you and Steve could be more than that. Your gaze drifts down again, watching the world spin beneath you, so you don’t see how his face falls slightly from your words.

The air between you thickens with unspoken words, the gentle rocking of the ferris wheel almost amplifying the silence. You focus on the lights below, momentarily getting lost in the vibrant colors and sounds of laughter, but your mind drifts back to Steve. Thoughts of his warmth against your skin make your heart race even faster.

“Hey,” he begins, his voice slightly hesitant, forcing your attention back to him. “I was thinking about…um, going to the hayride after this. It’ll be fun, right?” He’s trying to recapture the lightness of the moment, but there’s a different edge to his tone, almost insecurity.

“Sure,” you reply, maybe a bit too fast, wanting to seem interested in his idea and hopefully get the vibe between you back on track.

He smiles at your enthusiasm, but it’s a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he turns his gaze back to the ground below, watching the festival swirling around. The brief flicker of uncertainty in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more wildly.

Once the ride ends and you both exit the cabin, the festival feels even more alive, filled with laughter, screams, and the smell of fried food wafting through the air.

The lights twinkle like the stars above, casting a gentle glow over everything, but the feeling of electric tension still lingers. Forcing a smile, you look over at Steve, hoping to read his expression. He’s glancing slightly shyly at you, scrunching his hands in his pockets again—a telltale sign of nerves.

“Let’s head to the pretzel stand first,” you suggest, wanting to ease the awkwardness. The buttery, salty scent of the pretzels wafts through the air, beckoning you. Plus, you could use a little snack to settle the butterflies.

“Yeah… great idea,” he says, looking towards you, but you break the eye contact too quickly, feeling an odd mix of courage and shyness wash over you. As you walk together, the distance between you feels both far and impossibly close.

When you approach the stand, the line is relatively short, which is a relief. You’re both quiet as you wait in line. You order two warm, buttery pretzels, and as the vendor hands them over, Steve pays, insisting it’s his treat. You protest, arguing that you could cover your half, but he brushes you off with a simple, “no, no, I got it. I was the one who asked you out, remember?”

You know that he didn’t mean it like that, but a small warmth spreads in your chest at the thought of this being more than just a friendly outing. You quickly push the thought aside as he hands you your pretzel, mumbling a, “thanks,” without looking him in the eyes. You know that you’re being dumb, you just wish that you could keep your feelings in check, but he looks too good in the sparkling lights, his eyes twinkling in a way that almost hurts.

There is something about being here with him that feels so bittersweet. It’s easier to just not look at him. You take a bite of your pretzel, the salty goodness grounding you in the moment, and glance around at the festival, trying to focus on the lively atmosphere rather than the tension curling in your stomach.

You keep eating in silence and you keep focusing on the surroundings of the fair around you, looking anywhere but at Steve besides you. You glance at the spin-the-wheel booth nearby, where a group of kids cheer excitedly as one of them wins a stuffed animal. You can’t help but envy their carefree joy and excitement. You don’t know why you have to find everything so difficult as you stand here with Steve, who was once so far out of reach.

It’s not like you want to ignore him, but suddenly you just don’t know what to say or how to act around him. Growing up, you’ve never been the one people chose, and the idea of going to a fair with a boy who you like and who is as sweet to you as Steve is overwhelming, one of those things you have romanticized, and now that you’re actually here, in a way that is so close to that teenager fantasy you had, but still not in the way you had dreamed of—with someone who just sees you as a friend and colleague.

“Are you alright?” Steve’s voice breaks through your thoughts, the hint of concern in his tone making you look up. He’s studying you closely, his brow slightly furrowed and that adorable furrow in his forehead deepening as he watches you. “You’ve been a bit quiet since the ferris wheel. Was this like… a bad idea?”

“I’m fine!” you assure him a bit too quickly, and you wince at how defensive it ends up sounding.

“Okay…” he replies, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. It stings more than it should because you know he cares, and that makes it even harder to explain what’s going on inside your head.

You continue to walk in silence for a moment, the vibrant sounds of the festival contrasting with the uncertainty hanging in the air between you. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the joy of being with him and the fear of ruining the one precious relationship you currently have. With each step, a battle rages in your mind, and the taste of the pretzel suddenly feels stale.

“Ready for the hayride?” Steve finally asks after you’ve finished your pretzels, breaking the awkward stretch of silence that had settled between you.

“Yeah, sure,” you respond, trying to sound chill and casual, but you’re afraid it comes out sounding more like indifference.

When you reach the hayride area, you find a rustic wooden wagon decked out with hay bales and pulled by a tractor, its engine humming softly. The laughter of children playing nearby fills your ears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted. You both hop onto the wagon, taking a seat on a hay bale amid a group of families and friends, and once again, you feel the familiar warmth of Steve beside you.

The tractor lurches forward, and you cling to the edge of your bale as the wagon bounces along the dirt path, the chill of the autumn air mingling with the warmth radiating from Steve. He adjusts his position slightly, leaning closer as the wagon sways, and the subtle change sends your heart racing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as the ride jostles you both slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine—just enjoying the view,” you reply, your gaze fixed on the canopy of stars beginning to twinkle above, but your heart is still tuned to him.

He chuckles softly, but it is a sound that feels somewhat insecure. “I mean, it’s a nice view, but… I would kind of hope you would look at me every now and then.”

Caught off guard, you turn your head to meet his gaze. There’s something in his expression—vulnerability mixed with that boyish charm—that feels disarmingly sincere.

“I’m sorry if I have read things wrong, or if you felt like you had to say yes to this because I asked you,” he continues, the usual lightness in his voice replaced with an honest sincerity that makes your heart race. “We can just forget that this was ever supposed to be a date and just hang out as friends if that's what you’d prefer.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world around you fades into a blur. The sound of the tractor and the laughter of kids playing in the distance become muffled as all your focus shifts to him. ‘This was supposed to be a date…’ Did he really just say that?

Your heart races in your chest, both from the weight of his words and the vulnerability etched in his expression. You’ve always thought you could keep your feelings hidden, but now, watching him wrestle with his own insecurities, you can’t bear the thought of losing what you’ve built together over these past months.

Your breath hitches, disbelief coursing through you. “This is a date?” It feels surreal, and your mind races to catch up with your heart.

“Yeah,” he affirms, his gaze steady and sincere, each word punctuated by the thrum of your pulse. The admission hangs in the air, heavy and exhilarating.

“Oh,” you manage to breathe out, the weight of his words settling in like the leaves falling around you. Your cheeks flush, warmth flooding your entire face as you try to process what this means.

Steve seems to realize the misunderstanding, his facedeepens with a mix of hope and anxiety. “I mean, if you want it to be…” He shifts slightly, clearly feeling exposed, but the earnest look in his eyes anchors you to the moment.

You can hardly believe this, the butterflies in your stomach now performing a whole concert rather than just a cha-cha. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…” you stammer, trying to find the right words while your heart races like it’s in a sprint. “I thought we were just… hanging out as friends.”

His expression shifts slightly, a blend of relief and a hint of hurt flickering across his features.

“Shit, I should have made it clearer when I asked you out. I was pretty nervous… It’s totally okay, if you don’t feel the same, but I really hoped we could be… more than just friends. I really like you, you know?” The determination in his voice swells with sincerity, and your breath catches again, this time for an entirely different reason. His honesty floods the air around you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade—the laughter, the stars overhead, the gentle bumps of the wagon.

You can hardly process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave. “You... really like me?” The surprise in your voice is undeniable. You had convinced yourself that the interest was one-sided, a figment of your imagination conjured by the butterflies and the lingering glances.

“Yeah, I do,” he reiterates, an earnest smile breaking through his initial unease. “I didn’t want to rush anything, but spending time with you these past months has been so much fun. Back in high school I always thought you seemed so smart and cool and you know… really pretty. But I didn’t think you would be into a dumb jock like me.” His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, making you melt a little more for him.

Your heart swells at his confession, and the rush of emotions leaves you momentarily speechless. “I thought you weren’t into girls like me,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability seeping into your words.

“Girls like you?” he echoes, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. “That’s just not true. You’re incredible. You’re smart, funny, and you’re not afraid to be yourself.” The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, filling the gaps left by all the self-doubt that had crept in over the years.

“I… I like you too, Steve,” you admit softly, your heart pounding against your ribcage as the truth finally escapes. The world around you falls away, the crackling of the hay under your knees and the sounds from the festival merging into a blurry background.

He smiles at you, that same breathtaking smile that had made your heart race all summer long. “Really? I mean, wow. I was worried I might have stepped over the line, putting us in some weird situation,” he admits, relief washing over his features.

You shake your head, a joyful laugh bubbling up. “You could never make things weird. I just didn’t realize you felt that way. I always thought I was just... you know, the quiet girl with the crush.”

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that feels like your own secret shared between the two of you. “Well, turns out we’ve both been a bit clueless, huh?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you realize how amusing this whole situation is. “Seems like it,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never thought you even noticed me.”

“Trust me, I noticed,” he responds, the intensity of his gaze making your stomach flip. “We can take this slow, just enjoy the night, but I want you to know that I would love to be more than just friends.”

His eyes search yours for reassurance, and at that moment, amidst the laughter and lights of the festival, the world around you shifts into clarity. You both breathe deeply, holding onto this newfound connection as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

With the stars twinkling above, the tractor bumps along the path, and you can’t help but lean a little closer, feeling bolder in the warmth of his confession. “Okay,” you finally respond, your heart fluttering at the thought of all that could come next. “I mean, I’d like that.”

Steve beams, a boyish grin spreading across his face. As the tractor lumbers along, the bright lights of the festival twinkling in the distance. And then, without thinking much at all, you lean in, drawn by some instinctive need to close the distance between you. Your heart beats wildly, anticipation hanging thick in the air as you catch the scent of the autumn breeze mixed with the sweetness of caramel apples and the warmth of hay all around you. Time seems to slow as he meets you halfway, and in a heartbeat, your lips brush against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s sweet, electrifying, a spark that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

You hold your breath, momentarily surprised by how right it feels—like fitting the last piece of a puzzle you didn’t even know was missing. When you pull back slightly, the look in his eyes is pure wonder, the fluttering tension replaced by something warmer and deeper.

“Wow,” he breathes, a soft laugh escaping his lips as if he can hardly believe it just happened. The smile on his face is electric, and your heart swoops at the sight of it. “That was—”

“Really nice,” you finish for him, you still feel the imprint of his lips against yours. It surprises you how natural it felt, how right—as if you had been waiting for this moment without even knowing it.

“Definitely,” he nods, his smile only getting wider as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

You chuckle lightly, your heart still racing as the aftershocks of the kiss continue to pulse through you. You lean your shoulder against his. Steve’s arm finds its way around you, pulling you a little closer, and you feel safe, excited, and thankful that tonight is unfolding in a way you never dared hope.

The wagon lurches forward again, providing a firm reminder of the bustling festival around you. You both settle into a comfortable silence, your shoulders brushing against one another, and it feels like you’re creating your own little world away from everything.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡

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