#but i don't want it and have no use for it or special attachment to it

[jbird-the-manwich]

"pro-ai" people. I think you ought to unpack that a tad. I think their might be some assumptions in there doing an awful lot of heavy lifting that may not be all that valuable.

All of your examples require an internet connection, and for those services to be live on the web. Even templates, you either have to download them or the specialized software that runs them.

All of these require information access on remote servers, and they each require their own, individual process, and for those individual services to be maintained in a way that is free or affordable.

An llm is a generalist. that can do all of these, and a lot more things, in one installation, that can still be on your machine and run if your connection goes down. Should you take its medical advice? Probably not. Is error checking over? No. Is that still very handy to format an email when FormatAnEmail.com is down? uh. yeah.

The choice of whether or not to use AI should depend on the task and how good AI is at it and the other resources at your disposal.

this false "pro-ai" and "anti-ai" dichotomy is silly, and is predicated on an assumption that "AI" is always going to meet some criteria that is objectionable in all cases for all reasonable people that isn't true.

I see where this argument comes from, but the evils of "ai" are actually the evils of like 3 companies and I would argue its more useful as consumers to recall that, considering these companies are trying to sell it to you. But these evils aren't true because of the ai. They're true because of the companies trying to win an arms race.

"Ai is evil"

not even true of most llms or most llm research.

It applies with the most parity to the 2 or 3 models we see being advertised the most, and the companies attached in the public zeitgeist, but those models are fairly extreme outliers for their size, complexity, resource use, and the audacity of their holding companies. They don't really represent a representative sample of the qualities any LLM *must* have or will have. Most research in llms in the last several years has been about making them smaller and more resource efficient.

I would argue there is no useful "anti-ai" and "pro-ai" identity. There are consumers angry about specific models and generalizing those shortcomings to an entire paradigm of computing based on the first one or two things they've heard about "AI" and deciding they're all of the devil, and... people who didn't do that.

"Using ai" does not necessarilly mean chatgpt. We have language models that are open source. That are local. That are private. That do not put money directly in the hands of any company. One that's 260 something megabytes for the weights. a hundred or so million parameters in comparison to chatgpts estimated trillions. LLMs run all gamuts of size, resource use, "intelligence" and data provinance and once training is done the model itself is just basically a ROM image. There is very little you can say about the implementation of chatgpt that would apply to every llm, not now, not a year ago, and especially not moving forward.

It's a tool. Not a demon. And for things the tool is less good at, finetuning the tool is entirely possible and is accessible to anyone who can follow a basic python tutorial. we are not at the mercy of these companies or their doings to provide ourselves access to the tool nor are we necessarily culpable to any problem you can name in AI unless we specifically choose to be. And we can choose specifically not to be and still use AI by using more ethical ai models. Usage of an LLM does not preclude that foul play is being rewarded in some way with patronage to any specific dealer.

Deciding there's "Anti-AI" and "Pro-AI" is just pretend internet politics. It's two straw men jerking off while they hold eye contact to assert dominance. People who want to use AI in a more ethical way were already capable of doing that, for... literal years. and no one who's thinking very critically and is abreast of the options available is wearing either of those hats with their whole pussy because they just don't make any sense. You can't really hear "using ai" and be sure something that should be boycotted is happening. And I personally am not deciding to fight over how someone writes their grocery list. I literally just. could not be fucked to care about anything much less. "This nasty bitch wrote her grocery list with token generation" idgaf. I just... don't.

I think a lot of what pro-AI people are really wanting is stuff that already exists but they don't know it's out there like

can't format a work email? templates

don't know how to write a resume? templates

writing a thank you card or a condolences card or a wedding invitation? templates templates templates

not sure how to format your citations in MLA or whatever format? citationmachine.net

summary of something you're reading for school/work? cliffsnotes.com

recipe based on ingredients in your fridge? whatsintherefrigerator.com

there's a million more like, guys, we don't need AI, we never needed generative AI

[pupyuj]

hi ena! long time no ask!!

with the recent miumiu wonyoung photos GOSHH MY MIND IS SPINNINGGF WITH THOUGHTSS😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

dubcon!!

what if…princess jang who comes from a wealthy noble family purchases you to be her pretty slave😁 the thing is you weren’t even being sold as one despite your family leaning towards the poorer class😱turns out she randomly spotted you at a market and ordered her people to do anything and everything just to have you in the palm of her hands! crazy!!!!! one day you were just taken away from your family! GOSH imagine the princess wonyoung herself carrying you to her room and gently laying you down on her bed🥺but, being the brat that you are you scratched and clawed at her, trying to resist her advances bc u were so so scared and confused :(( eventually, the remaining patience she had for you snaps and she just fucks you hard to remind you of your place!!!! u were nothing but her stupid little slut to use whenever she wanted :(

(she starts off really gentle with you but fucks you rough and hard for being so rude and disobedient to he princess☹️)

omg yk that video of her sliding off her gloves to sign for a fan?? IMAGINE IF SHE DOES THAT BEFORE FINGERING YOU UNTIL URE IN TEARS BEGGING HER TO STOPPP UGHH😫😩😩

- 🍒

MY FAVORITE CHERRY ANON!! i know, i know this ask took me forever to do again but we're all probably used to it to it to the point where i don't even have to address it 😭 since the photos are now not-so-recent, i'll attach them here so everybody can visualize it well hehehe 🤭

(@ CHERRY ANON IK YOU'RE WONDERING IF I AM ALSO WORKING ON THAT OTHER WONY ASK THAT YOU SENT AND I'M GONNA BE HONEST I THINK I DELETED IT?? which sucks bcs i was JUST thinking of answering it too just now until i realized it was nowhere to be found so IF UR STILL UP FOR IT AND IF YOU REMEMBER THE GIST, FEEL FREE TO SEND IT AGAIN! pretty sure it was about sororities?? 🤔)

p.s. you guys are crazy if you think i'm not gonna give this ask some meat (aka mini lore) so if this happens to be a long one that's why! 😭😭

[cw: extreme dubcon, (eventually) cnc, coercion, bondage, mild violence, obsessive-possessive princess!wony WOOO.]

you were happy as a commoner, okay!? even though your fate was sealed as a middle-class man's stay-at-home wife and child bearer in the future, you were going to make the most of your life despite it all! but that was before you encountered her highness jang wonyoung while you were out to shop for new formal robes. oh, sorry, you didn't 'encounter' her—she saw you animatedly chatting with the nice young clerk at the apparel shop and became obsessed fell in love at first sight 😍😍

your whole life took a whole other turn when a couple knights knocked on your door and took you from your family by force and with only a brief answer when asked: "her highness wills it so." 🥲 your family was then visited by the princess' retainer to give them a more detailed explanation of the whole situation but you didn't know that. you didn't have to. what only mattered from then on was whatever the fuck wonyoung wanted with you... and it was everything you anticipated it to be! almost.

nobles were all the same, after all. and the worst among them was the royalty. you half expected to have been stripped down in the carriage by the knights and dragged throughout the castle naked and bare before they throw you inside the princess' quarters where she would be more than ready to just... ravage you, but that didn't turn out to be true. not all the way! you made it to the doors of the castle with your clothes still on you and you weren't just haphazardly thrown inside the princess' room... the knights were given special instructions to treat you like glass! or else the princess would have their heads if they so much as scratched your beautiful, delicate skin.

wonyoung herself met you at the doors of the great hall, actually! she couldn’t contain her excitement because finally, she found someone that she knew was going to satisfy all her needs and make the perfect wife! never mind that you were some lowly commoner, you were beyond perfect in the princess’ eyes!

“do you know me… (y/n)?” you don’t even want to know how she just knew your name. you were confused, terrified, and furious all at the same time and wonyoung loved it. anybody else would have been scrambling to kiss her feet and beg for forgiveness even though they knew they did nothing wrong… but of course you’d be different. wonyoung was so happy.

nevertheless, you plucked up whatever courage you had left in yourself and answered her question, “the crown princess… jang wonyoung.” even the way you said her name was impeccable! ah, how wonyoung couldn’t wait to make you hers completely… and that’s exactly what she attempts to do once she took you to her room but of course, you fought back! 🥺

kicking and hitting wonyoung whenever she tried to get close to you on the bed, even shrieking and screaming for help just in case there was a servant who felt sorry enough to interrupt but who in their right mind would dare get in the way of the princess? 🤨 it was when you scratched her chin that she finally had enough of your shit and straight-up whacked you across the face... her highness has never had to use violence to gain control and advantage but goodness you really pushed all the wrong buttons!!

somehow it wasn't the painful sting on your cheek that made you settle down... bcs if you weren't directly staring at the small, bleeding cuts you've made on wonyoung's chin, you would've made an even bigger fuss when she roughly undressed you! sure, you feared the consequences of literally hurting the princess wonyoung but... she was still a beautiful woman!! what you did was like the equivalent of defacing a famed painter's greatest work—you definitely deserve whatever punishment was waiting for you 🫢🫢

wony won’t take your resistance seriously once she’s seen how drenched you are for her! she only takes that as a sign that she was welcome.. and that you did, in fact, want this! 🤭 she assumed that you can take her at whatever pace she decides to go with bcs you were a commoner that was gorgeous and deliciously naïve… surely you’ve been passed around before right?? but no… you were a virgin :(( but you were taking wonyoung’s fingers so well… meeting her thrusts halfway as if you’ve always known how to do it like that… moaning “your highness” so nicely against her ear that it gave her goosebumps… so ofc wony ignores your tears and your pleas to stop when you’ve already cum many times 🫠

but ah you were really testing her!! wony was bound to get some bruises with the way you’ve kicked and hit her so much… so she ties your hands up above your head and your legs spread apart with either ankle tied down at the edge of the bed! this way it would be much, much easier to punish you 🤭 she’s definitely relentless when using her mouth… esp since she just got a taste of her new food and oh, were you delectable…!

wonyoung couldn’t get enough… using her tongue on you over and over again throughout the night whilst talking to you about how perfect your life was going to be now that you were with her… and she very much liked how you didn’t even fight her words anymore! she knew that even though you cried gallons of tears and made your voice hoarse from wailing and moaning you wouldn’t dare look back on your past life anymore! 🤭

since then your daily activities as the crown princess’ future consort was to look pretty, study in both academics and noble etiquette, and most importantly, tending to wonyoung’s… needs 🫠🫠 you knew that every servant, knight, and nobles that frequented the castle talked badly about you. how a peasant managed to captivate the princess’ heart with ease. their words cut through you pretty badly but wonyoung was always there every night to mend your wounds… always.

you didn’t even care that wonyoung fucked you too hard anymore! bcs she has somehow led you to believe that she was the only one in this world that loved you and can stand to love someone like you 🫣 and you only believed her bcs you did feel her love with every thrust of her fingers, every disgusting thing that she whispers in your ears while she fucked you, every flick of her tongue as she ate you out, every bite on your lips when she kisses you. you were only right to love her back in spite of everything else bcs… like wonyoung always assured, this is what true love is, right?? 🤭

[taeaura]

Thomas Hewitt | Possessiveness, Desperation, and Jealousy

Yeah...Thomas has attachment issues lololol

Thomas' possessiveness is really just a progression of his desperation. For example:

Stay with me, I don't want you to leave

Mutates into

You're my possession - Of that, my love, there really is no question

Okay, yeah, I'm using lyrics to get my point across, so what?

Because of his low self-esteem, Thomas gets jealous without realizing it. He's anxious about his potential future with his S/O, with constant worries surrounding abandonment and comparison.

What if you get hurt? What if you push too far, explore too deeply and find something you hate? What if turn to hate him? He can't have that. No, no, no, no, not here; Not now.

You really are his special someone. He's in love with you, his Momma'll make sure to tell you. Thomas' favorite thing is how sweet you are with him; Buttering him up with compliments {all of which you find to be true statements, though he disagrees}, and variations of physical affection. One thing that never fails:

"You're so handsome, Tommy."

Goddd, does it make him blush. He gets all giddy and shy - a bit aroused, depending on the situation.

What if that stops? What if when he finally reveals himself, you run away? You scream and shriek in terror? Is he really that ugly?

What if I make you feel sick?

That's a question he asks himself a lot. You're all he has {outside of the family}, and he plans to keep it that way {excluding potential future children}.

I explored this a bit in a previous post:

'You can't leave. I won't leave you leave - I have nothing. I'll prove to you how good I am - How good I can be, I swear. You can live with us on this farm, just like momma always dreamed of. You're not leaving me; Not after you've met momma, not after the countless times you've saved me from callous assholes out here. No - I couldn't..' -- He had to keep you. Keep you here; In the basement; In the barn; Maybe in a spare bedroom - His bedroom. It didn't matter. You could would not leave.

_____

At the root of his issues, Thomas is a scared, concerned, insecure man who's been starved of proper connection. Healthy, reciprocated emotions that don't burn out when he does something wrong. Once he's found someone worth opening up to, he'll treasured them. After years of believing they'd never meet, here they are.

Are you an angel? Have I been rewarded?

Or has the Devil sending one of his succubi to ravish me down to the rings of Wrath and Ptolemaea?

Although Thomas' thoughts are not as religiously-driven as those above, he often treads in waters of similar questioning:

Do I deserve this? - Am I being tricked? - They'll leave eventually..

--

Overtime, his anxiety turns to desperation - And soon, that desperation turns into jealousy.

Someone could compliment you, and it'd set him off. Especially if it's a man. He's so scared you'll find someone better than him, and he's envious of how easy it is not only for you to interact with people, but how easy it is for them to interact with you. He wants to interact with you so badly! He wants to tell you how beautiful you are, how grateful he is for you {even if you two aren't in a relationship yet}. He wishes he was approachable - Not that he's comfortable with causal conversation, but he wishes it was plausible in his situation.

--

One afternoon, a {soon to be} victim complimented you; 'Called you 'attractive' in whatever fancy way they put it. You scoffed a bit, albeit amused, followed by a small 'thank you.' - Boy, Thomas couldn't've been more peeved. How dare you? After all he's done to make you comfortable? Really, this is how you repay him?

He had to take a minute to himself, realizing how irrational he sounded. How were you supposed to know the sacrifices he made? It's not like he could tell you..though he wishes he could, just so you would be proud of him.

After his anger calmed down, he was left guilty and worrisome - It wasn't anyone's fault. The stranger couldn't have known his feelings for you, and he doubted you're aware either. That being said, that 'charming' victim made a delicious dinner that night ;)

_____

Thomas thought he had his emotions under control, but he was greatly mistaken. Momma had sent you out to grab things from the {wilting} garden just a few minutes prior; You'd gained enough trust from her to be left unsupervised outside - Though, she kept tabs on you though the windows.

Thomas was just finishing up in the basement when he walked up to the main floor; Oddly enough, he was looking for you. One random evening {a day he couldn't quite remember}, he'd overheard you talking to Henrietta about a locket you had once - A dainty one that complimented your skin ethereally. One of the victims, a nice gal from out of town, had a locket similar to the one you described; And he planned on giving it to you.

As he searched around the home, he found no trace of you. His anxiety quickly picked up; What if you'd left? No, Momma wouldn't lose you that easily, you'd have to be somewhere. He made his way outside, carelessly throwing the front screen doors open, albeit a bit aggressive. After a few minutes of pacing, he finally found you in the garden - Just as you were supposed to be.

The knot in his stomach relaxed, just as his shoulders did. There you were: Safe and content. He clutched the locket within his right hand, the chain dangling from his stressed fingers.

Unbeknownst to you, Thomas stood a few feet away, just..staring. His mind raced with incoherent thoughts: Would you like the gift? What if you were confused, or even worse, disgusted? What if the locket wasn't to your liking? He was quickly pulled from his thoughts when you finally noticed him.

"Hi, Thomas." You acknowledged, he really was just some big, awkward hunk, huh? "Did you need something?"

He quickly shook his head, bringing his hand forward. He twisted his wrist so his palm could face upward, revealing the locket.

You wiped some sweat off your forehead with your dirt-covered gloves and stood up. Your knees had gotten a bit dirty, but your pants provided a solid-enough layer between skin and soil.

"Is this for me?" You naively asked. Of course it was for you, he wouldn't just hand something to you that he intended on keeping.

He nodded, slightly nudging his hand closer as if to say 'take it.' - Which you did.

"Might be a bit difficult to put on, the jump ring's a bit small."

Were you..asking him to help? Was that it? He wasn't too sure, but he took the chance anyway. He gently grasped the split chain, folding it cautiously around your neck. He fumbled a lot with the chains..he didn't know how to handle such a small mechanism despite his sewing hobby; But eventually, he connected the jump rings.

You adjusted the locket to your liking, turning to face him with a thankful smile painted amongst your face.

"Thank you, Tommy."

Oh god..there it was. You knew he liked being called 'Tommy', you must've. He felt teased, just a bit. Mostly shy, though. He swallowed and gave a small nod.

Gosh, you were gorgeous, at least he thought so. He wanted so badly to tell you - Just like that piece of shit victim previously had. Okay..they weren't that bad, but he didn't want to acknowledge that. His jealously started to fester again, soon overriding his yearning.

God fucking damnit, why do I have to be so restricted? He thought to himself, an anger bubbling beneath him.

"Are you alright?" You hesitantly asked, tilting your head just a bit.

Was he alright? No, he was not 'alright.' He felt silenced. Restricted in his own body. How hard could it be to tell you how much he liked that locket on you?

His throat strained, trying to make any sensible noise - Yet all that came out were gurgles and incoherent mumbles. He shook his head, obviously overwhelmed and fed up. Instead of straining too hard, he pointed at the necklace and nodded - He really did think you were the most beautiful creature in the word, the locket only amplified that.

"You like it?"

He nodded once more.

"Aw; Well, thank you, Tommy. That's very kind of you."

He nodded a final time, making a mental decision: You were never going to leave him. He'd do anything and everything to make you happy, including small things like this.

That piece of shit nobody couldn't treat you like I could; They'd only make you happy chopped up, seared, and served right at the dinner table.

He'd make sure that would never happen to you. That no one besides him or the family would make you laugh, cry, smile; Not like he could. You two would be one, one way or another - Even in death. He'd make sure of that.

_____

Boo lame boo 🍅🍅🍅

I'm not too proud of the one-shot but my brain isn't giving me anything different.

We will, however, get more possessive Tommy as I finished up pt. 2 of Proprietorial 😈

[justcallmemrslupin]

My problem with the Marauders fandom

I usually say that ATYD was the worst thing that ever happened to Potterheads ("Harry Potter" fandom) and specially to Lupin Lovers (Remus Lupin fans). I don't actually think it is the worst, but you know what I mean. And it's not just ATYD, but most of Marauders fanfiction (well, they're mostly ATYD fanfics, to be honest).

It really disturbs me, because that's NOT Remus Lupin at all:

Lyall Lupin being an abusive father and Remus being raised in an orphanage or whatever that was? No!! Absolutely not! Lyall and Hope were loveable parents, who did everything they could for their son. They became outcasts because of his lycanthropy, and that's the reason behind Remus putting people at arm's length and feeling unworthy of love. He knew what would become of anyone who was too attached to a werewolf.

Remus being assertive and exploding at his friends. Uh... Nope. He was a boy who'd never had friends. Having friends had always been his biggest dream. So, he didn't agree with many of the things they did, but he cut them an awful lot of slack because he didn't want do lose them. It was the only time when he felt happy before "Prisoner of Azkaban" - when he had friends. Dumbledore made him prefect so that he would control them, which he didn't! He even remained friends with Sirius after he used him as a weapon against Snape! (Well, maybe he wouldn't remain friends with him if it didn't mean losing James and Peter's friendship too, but that's just a theory.)

‌Remus being a walking time bomb before the full moon. Remus? Really? Remus Lupin, the most self-controlled of all "Harry Potter" characters?! The guy always tamed his human form because he couldn't tame his wolf form. The moon only affected him when it was actually full.

‌The whole Wolfstar thing... Okay, I admit I don't like non-canon ships in general, except when one of them is an OC (most people hate OCs, but I love them, I read most anything Remus/OC - and write it). And as a woman, I mostly have no interest in Slash (M/M) - I do love Grindelore, but that's because it's Canon and their story fascinates me.

But my problem with Wolfstar is more than just a personal inability to like non-canon pairings. It's the fact that I can't get pass the fact that Sirius never cared much for Remus. He was his friend, sure, but he didn't act as a person in love, not for a second:

1. He wished for a full moon when he was bored. Of course Remus answered "darkly". He felt bad for him wishing it. And he suggested that he studied with him, but Sirius dismissed him.

2. The so-called prank (the biggest problem of them all): okay, I can't even begin to say how problematic this is even for a friendship, but for a couple... It would be extremely toxic, don't you think? Do you really think that a teenager in love would reveal his love interest's biggest secret to their worst enemy? And that was the least of it. He didn't care about what would become of Remus had he attacked Snape. The least that could happen would him being expelled (and knowing how society felt about werewolves, probably Remus would end up being executed). Of couse Sirius didn't think of it. But he definitely would if he was in love with him. It was something really cruel to do with a friend, but with a boyfriend... I don't even have the words to describe how toxic it would be to use your significant other as a weapon and expose their biggest secret.

3. He didn't leave him anything in his will. Anything. Even knowing that he was living in extreme poverty because of Umbridge's law against werewolves working. Sirius knew about that. It was Sirius himself who told Harry about it - and Harry was mad, because Lupin looked more ragged than ever. Now, I can understand that Sirius would forget about his friend - it's bad? It is, but it's on character. -, but about a lover? Never! Sirius was too intense for that. He loved James with all his heart and would do anything for him. But nor for Remus. Oh, by the way, James helped Remus financially when he couldn't work after finishing Hogwarts. Yep. He did it. Sirius didn't even leave him anything in his freaking will!

4. They didn't trust each other. They were supposed to be friends, but Sirius literally told James not to trust Lupin and to trust Pettigrew instead. Again, would he do that if he was in love with Remus?

Plus:

- Sirius was always much closer to James than to Remus. They are always described as always being together (even by the teachers and Madam Rosmerta. Not once is Remus mentioned.) and Harry had the impression that he was the only person who could make James change his mind;

- Dumbledore referred to Harry as the person Sirius loved the most. Harry. Not Remus. Harry.

- Sirius was the walking stereotype of the "bad boys" from the 80's/90's: long hair. motorcycle, ignoring the girls who were swooning for him, posters of girls in bikini in his bedroom (even when he grew up and Remus was actually a guest in his house), arrogant, popular, reckless... Totally "alpha male" and "heterotop" vibes.

- It's stated in Lupin's biography on the official "Harry Potter" website that he had never fallen in love before falling for Tonks.

- It's also said there that Sirius "always got the women".

But it's not just Remus. They made everyone act off-character: they made Sirius feminine, James soft and Peter a sweet boy who was forced to betray his friends. Not to mention poor Lyall Lupin and even Dumbledore. And what's with the obsession about making everyone queer? It was the 70's, for Merlin's sake! Not the 2020's!

My biggest problem is not the fanfiction per se. Fanfiction exists to make fans happy, I also read and write them. The problem is the fandom, trying to shove it down everyone's throat, pretending it's canon and even spreading fake news about the actors who played Sirius and Lupin, being aggressive to anyone who doesn't agree with them, and saying things like: "Lupin and Tonks had a lavender marriage" (yeah, because in lavender marriages one gets depressed over the other's rejection, leaves her newborn baby and runs into a war because she couldn't stand not knowing if her husband was dead, or - this is awesome - an unplanned pregnancy! LOL), "Tonks morphed into Sirius" (really? She never morphed into a man in the books, the furthest she went was disguising herself as an old lady, do you really think she even could morph into a man?), or - this is my favorite - "J. K. Rowling accidentally wrote them as a couple"! LOL This is hilarious. How can anyone "accidentally" write something?

And then, there are the people who choose to ignore canon. Okay, that's a valid option. Just don't go around saying that you like "Harry Potter". You don't. Your fanfics are about ATYD, not "Harry Potter" at all, because those characters are NOT from "Harry Potter", they only share the same names.

I could go on forever about this. But I won't I can't afford a lawyer. :P

The thing is: Marauders fanfiction is not "Harry Potter" fanfiction anymore, it's ATYD fanfiction. Only the names are the same, but those characters are definitely not from "Harry Potter", they're just all OCs.

[mzannthropy]

Anne of the Island Chapter 26

A remarkably short chapter. (Still I had a lot to say about it, lol. I think there was a lot packed into not many words.)

I like it, bc it has the things I would want more of in this book: girls dressing up for an event, exchanging confidences. (Reminds me of that chapter in AOGG when Anne and Diana are in her gable while she's dressing for the concert.) Not that I necessarily like everything they have to say wrt Jonas, but *shrug* whatever.

Anne, this is certainly your night for looking handsome. Nine nights out of ten I can easily outshine you. The tenth you blossom out suddenly into something that eclipses me altogether. How do you manage it?

I love this. Phil's aware of her own beauty but also compliments other women. No jealousy detected. This is abundant thinking, ladies and gentlemen! Someone else's beauty doesn't negate your own.

The dialogue about flowers is very interesting. I know it would seem that Roy sending Anne orchids means he's not the one, but she says he knows what flowers she likes, and that he doesn't usually send orchids, so on some level he does get her. Yet he still sent her orchids. I don't know much about flowers. I wish I did bc I like photographing them and it's maddening not knowing what they are and then having to post them online with "idk what flower this is but it looks pretty so here you go" or "some white/pink/whatever colour flower, enjoy!". Anyway, "he knows I like flowers I can live with. Orchids are only things you can visit with"--it's brilliant, isn't it? Can she only "visit" with Roy?

“Who is Christine Stuart?” “Ronald Stuart’s sister."

Okay, who is Ronald Stuart?

So Gilbert is hanging out with a music student named Christine. I mean, why not. It's his right to spend his own time with whomever he chooses. Anne refused him, so he's looking elsewhere, sorry not sorry. *shrug*

“Get off that cushion instantly, you cat, you! Why don’t you stay down where you belong?”

I'm like that sometimes. When us humans get annoyed, it's cats who receive it all.

The Sarah-cat did not approve of him. She always turned her back on him.

A warning sign? Anne is not specially attached to Sarah-cat. If it was Rusty who didn't like Roy, that would be a red flag. IIRC Sarah-cat was described as regal, so it might just be the case of a cat looking down on a lowly human. (My next door neighbour had this cat who thought he was an emperor, he didn't let anyone pet him and he had a look of utter disdain for humans. Upon seeing me, he would wag the end of his tail and I found this the highest form of honour. Sadly, he has now gone to where all the good cats go... but he will never be forgotten.) We've not been told how Sarah-cat reacts to visitors, so we can't draw any conclusions.

And so we meet Christine Stuart.

“Rose-leaf complexion—starry violet eyes—raven hair—yes, she has them all. It’s a wonder her name isn’t Cordelia Fitzgerald into the bargain!" 

I posted this before, but since we're doing the book club--I think the actress Dagmara Dominczyk represents that:

(On the left it's her as Mercedes in the 2002 film The Count of Monte Cristo.)

Anne comforts herself with the fact that her nose and her figure are better than Christine's.

One's got to wonder why she's so bothered, what do you say, readers?

[bluetreelights]

These are both great points! I'd also like to add that first love, while special, can also be very... wrong? Not incorrect or immoral, but definitely naive. I think, more often, First Love is another feeling masquerading as love for someone who doesn't yet understand the difference. In Solas's case, he clearly has great admiration for Mythal. He is willing to do literally anything for her. Their relationship, though, is complicated (and, in a lot of ways, doomed) by the fact that she holds herself above him. As the op said, she is his queen and a self-proclaimed goddess. She asks him to help her commit atrocious acts "for the good of the people". She quite literally asks him to change his entire being. Solas obeys because of the depths of his devotion to her, even when her desire is the polar opposite of what he wants and doing so tears him apart. I definitely don't need to re-iterate how toxic that is, but I think that many people can see their own experiences with First Love in that. Not so much the war crimes, but "Why was I willing to do that for them?" Or "Why did I let them change me?"

I imagine he was extremely wary of Lavellan, at first. She asked him for his thoughts, his opinions on matters, and he gave them. As it became more and more apparent that this woman was the driving force behind this new "Inquisition" force, though, things started to feel strangely familiar.

His whole "this is not a good idea" mindset makes sense in that he knows what he has done and what is still to come, but what if he's also feeling a little like history is repeating itself? Here he is, getting attached to another powerful woman (a woman who, when they meet, already represents a collosal failure of his plans). Will she use him the way Mythal did? We also know he's still very much devoted to Mythal, so falling for Lavellan probably feels like a betrayal of her. Another failure.

Then Lavellan does the unthinkable. She shows interest in him as he is. As Solas. Not a servant, not an advisor, not the leader of a rebellion. Just an apostate hobo who likes to talk about the Fade and ancient history. She shows up for him when he asks for help. She flirts with him. And, in the end, Lavellan is the one who offers him forgiveness and goes with him to find healing and peace.

In some ways, his relationship with Lavellan teaches him what love is supposed to be. That special place he keeps for Mythal will always be there, but I like to think he realizes that what they had was not really love after all. Just like a lot of us do with First Love. His love for Lavellan may not have been his first, but it was real.

Second Love

There is nothing wrong with being a man’s second love. Or a woman’s for that matter.

I’ve heard it being said, whether by gleeful solavellan critics or by angry, disappointed solavellan’s themselves, that the love Solas and Lavellan share is now diminished or tainted by Solas’ love for Mythal.

I could not disagree more.

In fact, I believe Solas’ love for Lavellan is made all the stronger by him having experienced (and lost) love in the past.

No one ever forgets their first love, this is true. First love is special.

But first love rarely lasts. For most people their first true love is the love that will inevitably lead to their first heartbreak.

Solas’ first love betrayed him – so much so that he had to burn her off his face. She lied to him, she used him, and yet he still held out hope that she would come back to him. He fell in love with an unobtainable, married woman, who thought she could control him.

“But you were always stubborn, Fen'Harel. Insubordinate. Unmanageable, even by Mythal’s reckoning.” – Elgar’nan

A woman who wanted to be a queen. To be a god to her people. She was not the woman he thought her to be, and so, their relationship had fallen apart.

And then Mythal was murdered. Solas blamed himself and grieved his first love alone.

In Inquisition Solas never anticipated that he could fall in love, not for a second time. But within a year’s time Lavellan had somehow wormed her way into becoming someone so special, so dear to him, that he was tempted to throw everything away just to be with her.

Second love could not be denied, no matter how hard Solas attempted to resist. No matter how many times he tried to turn away.

Love kept calling him back, and love kept calling him forward.

Second love is less naïve than the first and has learned from past mistakes. Second love is all the more hopeful and knows the pain of love lost. Second love knows the value of their shared bond and can show you what real love is supposed to be.

Solas and Lavellan’s love is an enduring, mature love. It endures separation, persists through doubt, is sacrificial, is understanding, is compassionate, and is forgiving.

When Solas says that he will tear down the veil to create the world Mythal wanted, please know that this is a lie. Solas is ultimately tearing down the veil for himself. To rectify one of his greatest mistakes. To salve his conscience.

Solas knows he’s in the wrong here, and that is why he cowers when Mythal appears before him. Remember who Mythal was when she was alive.

She was his queen. Judge, jury, and executioner of the elven people.

Solas truly believes he deserves to be executed – that is why he halfway offers the dagger to her. But what he doesn’t/couldn’t anticipate is for Mythal to own up to her part in their wrongdoings and to admit that she broke him.

She then finally releases him.

Old friends and former lovers. Solas will always love Mythal, but he is no longer in love with her. His heart belongs to Lavellan now, to his future.

[amelikos]

Spinel and Agate key frame.

[ficklepenguin]

does marie kondo's method address what to do if something doesn't necessarily bring you joy, but the thought of getting rid of it brings you just an absolute asston of anxiety?

[whateveriwant]

Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

[libraford]

Like... when I'm pointing out that a recipe image is AI, the purpose is not to shame them for posting AI, because even people who are familiar with the tells will sometimes fall for it.

I want you to have reasonable expectations about your food.

Because when I see this:

I remember this:

Which was a full decade prior to AI-based misinformation, and just how many people were pissed off that the Pinterest post misled them.

And even more-working in a craft store during the Pinterest heyday:

"We want to make this." Shows a picture of:

-a marimo moss ball terrarium in a light bulb.

-a resin-treated natural wooden shelf with glow in the dark resin in the cracks

-a really complex diorama made using museum grade resin and hand-painted figures by a miniatures artist

...to name a few.

"I'm sorry, but we do not carry (unfinished wood pieces, light reactive resin powders, live marimo moss balls, museum grade resin). Is there a tutorial attached with a materials list? No? I'm sorry, we don't have those. You can make something like this with what we have, but it won't turn out the same as in the photo. You want it exactly like the photo? I'm sorry, we can't special order these items, they're not featured on our list of vendors. I'm sorry, no, I don't know where to get them. Oh, you want me to walk you through the steps of making it since there's no tutorial? I can really only guess, but it looks like... oh, you want someone who knows for sure? I'm sorry, but no one here is terribly familiar with the process. You might see if you can reverse image search and find the source of the image. You say you want to speak to my manager? You say I'm being rude to you? You say I should be going out of my way to make you happy? You say you'll leave a 1 star review?..."

Etc.

If you ask a bartender to make you the 'celestial milkshake' and show them the photo, they are going to go through the same course that I just went through, but with mixology. They are going to explain that cotton candy dissolves when put in liquid, that edible glitter doesn't look like that, that the liquers listed in the recipe don't interact well, and that the image you have given them is essentially concept art by someone who has never even worn an apron.

Having reasonable expectations for your food is not by any means shaming you for falling for AI. It is saving you the embarrassment and them the frustration.

[skyahri]

I'll Take You In |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, and Gaara

Summary: They bring home a baby.

Warnings: Implications of child abandonment.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

It was late at night, and he'd just returned home from a mission.

You immediately noticed the little bundle in his arms. Without a second thought, you'd plucked the little one out of his arms and made your way to the couch for cuddles.

"Who's this?"

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and took the spot next to you.

"A little girl we found alone in the woods on the way back. No one in the area claimed her, so we brought her back here."

"She's beautiful."

"I offered to take her in."

You were shocked by that. Kakashi had never shown any interest in kids, so for him to offer to take one in was unexpected.

"I know, I should've talked to you first, I just," he sighed, "I got kind of attached."

You shook your head at him, worried he'd taken your shock as disappointment.

"I get why. She definitely fits the baby sized hole I've suddenly acquired in my heart."

The next morning, you'd taken the little girl to Sakura for a checkup and to the records hall for a birth certificate.

Meanwhile, Kakashi had recruited a Gai to assist him with the nursery.

By end of day, you had a fully built and stocked bedroom for your daughter.

It hadn't even been 24 hours, and yet you'd already perfectly filled out as a family.

Sasuke Uchiha

You'd just returned home from grocery shopping when you found Sasuke and Kakashi talking in the living room.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Sasuke turned around holding a baby.

You dropped the bags in your hand and immediately made your way over to them.

"Who's the cutie?"

You combed your fingers through the baby's hair and fought the urge to kiss their face.

"Naruto and I found him in the woods on the way back from Suna. We asked around, but no one seemed to be missing a baby."

Sasuke passed the baby to you, knowing you would most definitely want to cuddle.

He made eye contact with Kakashi, a silent way of telling him to leave. He did without protest, knowing exactly why he was no longer welcome.

"I actually wanted to discuss something with you."

You hummed, too busy playing peekaboo to pay your husband any mind.

"I would like to... keep the baby."

Your eyes snapped up at him. Who was this and where was your husband?

"You want to keep a random baby you found?"

He blushed, not really liking the forwardness of your words.

"He's a good baby. He'd make a great addition to the clan."

You didn't need any further convincing. You loved kids and wanted plenty of them. This would just be a head start of sorts.

You hugged and kissed Sasuke, thankful you had a wonderful husband.

Shikamaru Nara

Oh boy.

When Shikamaru came home with a baby, you knew something was up.

He never volunteered for work, so you knew something unfortunate had to have happened.

You'd made your way over to him to see the baby, but stopped when you didn't recognize them.

Sakura and Hinata had recently had their babies, so you expected it'd be one of them, but no. This baby didn't look like anyone you knew.

"They found her in one of Orochimaru's old hideouts. Sakura checked her out, and she seems okay, but..."

"But?"

"She needs a home."

You nodded. Obviously, she needed a home. Then it dawned on you.

"You want us to keep her?"

He nodded and looked away.

You smiled.

"She must be something special if you wanna take her in."

"Kakashi asked me specifically, and I don't know, there's just something about her..."

You stopped him before he started talking himself into a hole. You understood, and were more than happy to bring the little one into your family.

Naruto Uzumaki

When Sakura told you that your husbands had found a baby on their way home from Suna, you weren't very surprised that Naruto had come home with them.

He looked a bit sheepish, like a kid who got caught by his mom.

Neither of you had to say anything. You already knew what he was going to ask, and he already knew that you knew.

"Look, I know what the orphanage is like, and he's so little, and-"

"It's okay, Naruto. I understand."

He felt a flood of relief wash through him.

"So we can keep him?"

You laughed and took the baby from him.

He really was so little, probably less than a week old. You felt a sense of obligation, not just because of Naruto. It felt like that baby was supposed to be yours.

"Yeah, I think I'd like to take him in."

Gaara

Since he had taken over the role of Kazekage, the sand village had been striving. Poverty was at an all time low, shinobi had higher success rates due to higher moral, and the economy had been booming.

The orphanage had, thankfully, been empty for quite some time, so when a baby was suddenly in need of a home, they came to him first.

He thought about reopening the orphanage for this one child, but he had a better idea.

Which is why he had come home from his regular work day with a baby.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You never imagined Gaara would be the one to bring home a child, that was much more yout Forte.

"I should have discussed this with you prior. I can always make alternate arrangements if you-"

You shut him up instantly.

This baby was now yours. A little girl, a daughter, just as you had always imagined.

"She's perfect."

[syd-djarin]

nut vid with the sound on

frankie "catfish" morales x f!reader

You accidently send Frankie a text that he wasn't supposed to see.

~1.5k words

tags: EXPLICIT, accidently sending a screenshot meant for someone else, reader is feral (she just like me), sexting, mention of light choking, virtual mutual masturbation (m & f!), flirting, Frankie is a consent king!, dirtyyyy talk, voice notes, nudes, nut vid with the sound on, they're so horny for each other

this is my first Frankie fic and I've been thoroughly enjoying myself in the Catfish Pond ;) I hope y'all like the text format, I had fun writing it like this. special shoutout to my babe @almostempty !!! she matches my freak, feeds my delusions & sparks my horny thots. thank you for cheering me on and helping with the dialogue I love you LOTS <3333

consulted this page for spanish used :)

translations:

princesa - princess

tócame - touch me

que cosa/cosita mas linda - what a pretty/pretty little thing

mierda - shit

ay dios - oh god

hazme el amor - make love to me

banners by: @cafekitsune <3

smut below the cut, y'all know the drill!

Frankie: You coming tomorrow? 

You: Yes, of course :) 

Frankie: Good. 

Bestie: bitch if you don’t make a move on fish

Bestie: It’s been months!!! Find out why they call him Catfish ;) 

You: STOPPPP 

You: you’re right tho I am dying to know

You: Wanna suck his dick til the skin falls OFF 

You caption the screenshot of Frankie’s latest Instagram post and text it to your bestie who will appreciate your level of freakiness. 

You continue your scrolling. 

*ding* 

Frankie: I don't think this message was meant for me, princesa.  

Opening his text, you realize to your horror that you sent your thirsty thoughts TO Frankie. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuck!

You: shit, I’m SO so so incredibly sorry! Totally inappropriate and not cool. I definitely meant to send that to someone else. Totally exiling myself from the group. 

Frankie: You meant to tell someone else that you wanna suck my dick til the skin falls off? 

You: It wasn’t for you. Please forget you saw it. Please Frankie :( 

Frankie: hell of a thing to send to someone. how am I supposed to forget the idea now?

You: Pretend. It was a mistake. 

Frankie: a mistake? as in, you didn’t mean it? 

You: Can we drop it? 

Frankie: seemed pretty specific for a mistake. you got freaky with it

You: It doesn’t matter. It was stupid. Please let it go 

Frankie: I don’t think I can, princesa

Frankie: not after imagining it 

Frankie: You sent a whole screenshot, with a colorful caption attached. That's intentional.

If you weren’t so humiliated, you’d be giggling and kicking your feet in the air that he is calling you princess, but you can only assume he is being patronizing. 

You: This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Frankie: Not too embarrassed to keep texting though…

You: Frankie don’t 

Frankie: You really think about me like that? 

You: I think you already know the answer to that

Frankie: I do, but I wanted to hear it from you. This time directly to me

Frankie: I think about you 

Frankie: All the time

You: Frankie, please. 

You: I already feel terrible 

Frankie: Never thought you’d see me like that. Now you’re telling me you’ve been thinking about my cock? and you want me to drop it? 

You: Please don’t fuck with me. I’m already mortified beyond belief like I can’t show my face around here anymore!! I’m sorry I sent it okay? 

You: I’ll skip the kickback if it's going to be too weird now. 

Frankie: Wouldn’t be the same without you there. I’d never tell you not to come. 

Frankie: If you really want me to drop it, I will. just say the word 

Frankie: but you should know

Frankie: I think you’re gorgeous, hilarious, too fucking smart to be hanging out with us  

Frankie: I lose my mind goddamn mind when I’m near you 

Frankie: and knowing you’ve been thinking about me too has me hard as a fucking rock 

You: Do you really mean that? 

Frankie: Yes I do, baby. You have no idea what you do to me 

You: Yeah? I might need some enlightenment. 

There’s a pause. You brace for impact; that he is really pulling your leg and he and the guys are doubled over laughing at your expense. 

Frankie: Might be better if you hear it straight from the Fish’s mouth

Frankie: Get it? Like horse’s mouth but it’s a fish instead 

You: I hate to admit I did one of those huff exhales that you do when something is amusing but not quite funny enough to warrant a full laugh

Frankie: At least you smiled. That’s good enough for me

Frankie: Sending a voice note, is that okay? 

You: Of course

Then the notification for a voice memo appears. Your fingers hover over the screen before you press play and Frankie’s low, gravelly voice spills into your ears. 

“Bebita, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this. I’ve been yours since I first laid eyes on you…You’ve got me sitting here in my truck, trying to keep my shit together, but all I can think about is you on your knees for me. Told the guys I had to take a call… they’d give me shit right now if they knew… they’ve been ribbing me for months to ask you out but I was too chicken shit… way too pretty for me… definitely funnier and smarter than me, but you should know I’m not intimidated by that it's fucking hot… Fuck you’d look so good for me. I’d slide my cock into your mouth so slow, watch your lips stretch around me. You have the prettiest eyes and lips, you’d be heaven down on your knees for me…Shit, I’d lose my mind watching you take it. You’d look so pretty with your mouth full of me, baby. So fucking pretty.” 

Frankie: Are you touching yourself? Tell me, pretty girl 

You: And if I was?

Frankie: Good girl 

Frankie: What are you thinking? How do you feel?

You: So so good, Frankie

You: Thinking about your big strong hands all over me has me drooling baby

Another voice memo appears. When you press play, there’s a groan—a low, throaty sound that makes your entire body shiver. 

“You been thinking about my hands, princesa? Want me to hold those pretty tits with my hands, hmmm? Play with your nipples, massage them…maybe you’d like one of my hands gently pressing into the sides of your throat… if you’re into it of course!” 

Frankie’s urgency to make sure you’re into that sort of thing makes you smile. The caring, thoughtful Frankie that you know. 

“I am so hard for you– ay dios!…Thinking about you sitting on my face, trapped underneath your gorgeous thighs… make you come all over my face. Need you to make a mess on me… rub your pretty little clit on my nose, that’s why I have this big nose… so you can use it fuuuuuuuck…”

His voice grows rougher, more ragged. You can hear the slick, clapping sounds and his breathing. Heavy and uneven. 

“Mierda, I’m so fucking close, wish you were here baby–unghhhhh… wanna feel you around me, your pussy squeezin’ my cock… make you come ‘til you’re begging me to stop… do whatever you ask me to…”

You: Show me. I want to see Frankie, please 

Frankie: Wanna hear you say it in your pretty voice 

Frankie: Let me hear you beg all sweet like for me and I’ll show you what you do to me 

You: “Frankie ohhhhh baby I need you so bad… tócame, Frankie, por favor…Always think about climbing in your lap, running my hands through those— ahhhhhh!— curls, wanna feel how deep you get when I ride you… wanna feel you in my goddamn throat — fuck, can you hear how wet I am? I’m making such a mess oh my godddddd… never been this fucking wet baby…”

Frankie: babygirl you’re gonna be the death of me

Frankie: love your voice and the pretty sounds your pussy is making for me 

You: can I send a video? 

Frankie: no pressure. only if you’re comfortable with it 😘

You: that’s not what I asked, Francisco

Frankie: I know you mean business when you use my government name 

Frankie: yeah baby i wanna see whatever you wanna show me 

You: Attachment: 1 Video 

“Hazme el amor, Frankie…” 

Your legs are spread open, your core on display for the camera. He smiles thinking you probably had to find something to prop your phone on. You’ve got two fingers teasing in and out of your glistening pussy.

Frankie: que cosita más linda 

Frankie: You have the prettiest, messiest little pussy baby. Thank you for showing me. I can’t wait to taste her

Frankie: As promised, you want something in return for being such a good girl for me? 

You: yes please 😇

Frankie: sound up 😘

Attachment: 1 Video 

“Fuuuuuuck babygirl… see what you do to me… need to be close to you, need to feel you… make you feel good like you deserve… this is all for you, I am all for you baby…”

Frankie has his cock pulled out of his unzipped jeans, still in his truck, pumping himself. You admire the size and girth of him, so thick and gorgeous. You know the sting and stretch of him entering you for the first time will be delicious. It’s so hot knowing he had to slip away from the guy's night to relieve himself—couldn’t even wait til he got home. 

“Been dreaming of you for months, always imagine you when I’m touching myself, you’re in all my thoughts baby… mierda I’m gonna come, fuck baby—unghhhhhh— gonna come so hard for you — ohhhhhhhh fuck…” 

Thick ropes of cum drip down his hand, where he’s slowly riding out his high, breath heaving in exhaustion. 

You: I think I just blacked out 

You: I came so hard watching you fuck

Frankie: Such a good girl, baby. You did so good making yourself come 

Frankie: Drink some water 😘

You: Thank you Frankie :) 🩷

You: chugging some water as we speak🫡 

Frankie: that’s my girl 

Frankie: get some sleep, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow 😘😘

BONUS: frankie's insta

tagging babes who might enjoy: @katiexpunk @evolnoomym @studioghibelli @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @sanarsi @tightjeansjavi @milly-louise <3333

@pedrostories

[backinmyphase]

Not your wife

Synopsis: The walls of the Gojo estate were big as always. The atmosphere cold like before, more than ever since the sudden end of Gojo Satoru's and your honeymoon. And the meeting with the higher-ups was coming near...

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 6200 words Masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu clans and higher ups, much Angst (I'm saying, MUCH angst!) Angst to comfort at the end, after this part will come more, but this will be the end of their introduction to each other

A/n: Alright it took awhile, but I still hope you will like it and it will be worth the wait for you! Like always I'm happy about any comments, they make seriously my day <3

Gojo Satoru was always the strongest and most powerful man in jujutsu society, you knew that.

You heard stories when you were a kid. Your father remembering the meetings with the Gojo Clan more than your birthday. And he was always fascinated by this boy with these absurdly godlike talent.

And then there was his daughter. You didn't have any talent. No, you didn't have the power to make any adult cower before you.

And you were a girl.

It was only natural your father forgot you or at least tried to. Then how could he look at his child and see that he was not the one his Clan prioritized, because he didn't have a worthy heir.

You were an only child, much to your parents dismay. Your father was… Well he couldn't have more kids. You could still see the doctors, and the screams of your father. The crying of your mother. You were six, when you realized you were doomed.

Doomed as the girl who ruined her father's life and name.

It could have been worse. Your parents didn't treat you too bad. They mostly left you in the hands of the maids and Servants. You ate alone since your eighth birthday. Your father couldn't stand eating and looking at you and your mother didn't want to be alone with you.

But it wasn't the worst. They didn't hit you or anything like that. They were frustrated, of course and they still are, but they knew you could still be useful to the Clan. And you knew that one day you would have to marry some man, hopefully a clan leader, to make up for the fact you weren't a boy.

Your mother did teach you personally. And even if she just did so you could get a husband, it still showed she cared.

You didn't live like the golden boy Gojo Satoru.

No, you knew he was special since your father told your mother and you that 'this one boy could be the rising of the jujutsu society to a new level!'.

Your Status was so different from his, you could laugh.

There was one time you saw him, before you two married. And of course that wasn't in the arrangement time, he didn't show up to meet you personally, but it was at a Clan meeting a couple of years ago.

How old were you? Fourteen? Maybe even fifteen. And your parents were arguing about if you should even come with. Your father was livid. 'How could I show myself, when she is there to remind everyone?' he yelled.

But your mother insisted that you should show yourself to start leaving an impression. 'She has to find a husband.' your mother was ice cold. 'And she has to start young. Don't you want a connection to the Gojo Clan?'

'As if Gojo.' He looked at you and that was the first time you had heard him laugh. 'As if she and Gojo…'

The difference between you and Gojo was always clear to you. And you knew that everyone else knew too. But your mother pushed through and took you with her. The ride was silent and you could stil see the empty eyes of your father.

His ego was so easily bruised.

As you made your way into the big estate of the Clan, you could feel the stares of the maides and the servants. Even they knew what you were. Who you were. And why your parents scowled as they came with you.

'So lovely to meet you.' Mrs. Gojo had that same smile you would see on her years later. And when you thought about it, she and your mother had tension between them even back then.

'And who is that beautiful lady?' she smiled at you, her hair was perfect, her dress made perfectly for her. She was a lady in power. But everything was only held together by the pretty golden ring on her ringfinger. Pretty but heavy, you knew that even back then.

'Our oldest daughter.' you father held up this nothing saying face but you could see his frustration.

'And your only one.' Mr. Gojo spoke up behind his wife and had the same but more smugly smile as he looked at your father. And you didn't miss the clenching of your father's teeth.

'Where is the young Gojo boy?' of course even back then your mother searched the control in the situation. And she always did a good job in directing the tension into a different direction.

'Oh, he is out playing.' Mrs. Gojo waved her hand. 'Some of his friends came by.'

He was out playing. His friends visited.

That was the moment you first really realized just how much different you lived. You had to beg to go outside, to attend meetings. He could just leave when his friends asked for him. Hell, he was allowed to play with friends! It was almost surreal how such an important figure had such a normal relaxing life.

'You can join them of course?' Mrs. Gojo smiled at you. Not much later you were send outside into the little yard of the estate.

Gojo laughed with some kids. They were running around, made dumb jokes you didn't understand and furthermore didn't talk to you. You were the weird stuck up girl to these boys and boys shouldn't talk to girls. That was stuck in their dumb teenage brains.

But in Gojo's eyes was something that ticked you off. This look of knowing. Maybe it was your paranoia but even back then you were sure of it, that he understood your different status and what it meant.

So you couldn't say you were that surprised.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"How was your Honeymoon, my Lady?"

You tried to smile as you looked at Hina. She was smiling softly and only now you realized just how much you missed her. The cold walls of the big house were not missed.

"Lovely." you held your things close to yourself, most of your baggage already brought into your room. The uber behind you drove away, now that you were back home. If you could really call it that.

"You look exhausted?" she didn't miss the eye bags under your eyes. But they weren't hard to miss, after all every night was a fight.

"Just missed my own bed." you moved, Hina taking some things from you. Your steps steady, determined.

"Is that why you came back so abruptly?"

You couldn't help but stop in your tracks. And you wished that was the reason. But it wasn't. It was also not the reason your husband wasn't in the uber with you. It wasn't the reason why you longed for your own room.

"Yeah. Just was a bit exhausted." you smiled at the lovely girl in front of you. "Will you excuse me?"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"My lady?" Hina's voice was soft, like it was scared to speak to loudly. "Dinner is ready and Mr. Gojo is waiting for you."

Your room was dark, the curtains closed and your back to the door. Since hours you were laying in your bed trying to sleep, to relax like those nights when you slept well. But it didn't work, nothing worked.

"I will be there in a minute."

You heard her steps distancing from your room. And with a heavy feeling you stood up. Your gaze dropping to your night table. The hairpin of your mother laying there, neatly. So put together.

Next to it the letter of the higher-ups. It reminded you of the following Friday. The meeting that was waiting for you.

And the husband that was waiting for your presence.

It wasn't easy to get up, to take all these steps towards the room with the person you really didn't want to see. In fact you didn't want to see anyone.

The table was big as always, filled with food you knew wouldn't all be eaten. Your seat open and waiting for you. And across from it, he sat. Satoru.

His head was down, cutting his meat as he chewed. He didn't look up as you sat down, no he gripped his fork harder as he ate. The nerve of him.

"Did you get home safely?"

"Yeah, I did." you took a bit of the food around you, even though you were nowhere hungry. "I wouldn't be here if not, would I?"

He stopped chewing for a second, his eyes almost going up. But he didn't and swallowed. "I guess."

The silence that flooded the room was filled with tension you felt familiar with. It was like when you were eight again, the dinners after it was revealed you would be the only child of your parents.

He was mad.

He cut his food like he hated it. And his blue eyes were like storms, fighting and brewing. In the end you still didn't know this man.

"Will you go to meet them?"

He had no right to look at you like that. No right, to make you feel guilty, to make you feel like the villain here.

"Will you disappear for a mission again?"

He was silent. And he should be. It was humiliating, how he left you to ride alone home again. Just mumbling of having to work instead of talking to you.

The sound of chewing and eating was the only thing that filled the room and it wasn't too long until you were finished. He stared at you, watching your doing. Now you couldn't bear yourself to look at him.

"You could have come to me. You could just tal-"

"I want to eat alone from now on again." you cut him off. You didn't want to hear his oh so great ideas, as if he knew your position.

He was quiet again. You took that as a sign to continue. "And I want to promote Hina, if that's okay. I still need a personal maid, to help me prepare for our later Clan events."

You stood up, the conversation was finished for you. You couldn't bear to hear his accusations, feel his piercing eyes on you and endure this tension in the room.

You hurried to take the steps to your room, Gojo not speaking up again.

Maybe you were overreacting. But if you felt the way you felt, why try to act not like it? He said he wanted to see your real emotions, he could feel it.

After yesterday you wouldn't need to be told twice to give him the cold shoulder.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ Yesterday

"What is this?" he held the cursed piece of paper up, the one you didn't know about. The one he just stole from you.

"A letter for me."

You looked into his eyes, your face was scowling now. He didn't have the right to just take your things, sneak around in your business and then act like you did something wrong.

"From the higher-ups." he let out a low joyless laugh. "You talk to them regular?"

He was intimidating. His body seemed so much bigger suddenly, his eyes like blades and he towered above you.

"Talk about me with them?"

"Stop." you narrowed your eyes as he let out another of these scary chuckles.

"Do you tell them all the things I do?" he shook his head and a scary smile mirrored his laugh. "Tell them everything about our marriage?"

"I said, Stop." you snatched the letter from him, finally having it secured.

"Is it true you meet up with them regular?" he didn't smile anymore. Didn't laugh. There was only this vulnerability and you did feel bad. But in this moment all of it clashed down on you, your exhaustion and everything on top made you overwhelmed like no time before.

"Why do you care?" you turned around trying to hide the tears that were clouding your eyes. Suppressing the heavy breathing and the hiccups. The shaking. Everything was becoming so loud, so alive.

"I care!" he became louder. "If my wife is talking to old hags more than to me! I care when she meets up with the people who controlled my whole life, and discusses me with them!"

Now it was your turn to laugh. "You want to talk about control?" you shook your head. "Gojo, you had freedom! My whole life was built up to marry you, that is my whole purpose. You had control, you had the freedom to have a childhood! It is my duty to meet up with them, I have no other choice!"

Now you could feel his infinity. It felt unstable, uncomfortable, just awful in your back. "But you do." his voice was eerily calm. "You could have talked to me. You could have come to me, instead of working with them!"

"Oh please, do you hear yourself? Working with them, what do you think they talk with me about?" you turned around to look at him and the sight shocked you. He looked like a whole different person. What a smile does to a lerson right? And how the disappearance of one changes one.

"Well it's worse enough that you feel the need to keep it from me."

"What do you expect from me?!" you screamed now, the exhaustion now making your head dizzy. Or was it really just the exhaustion?

"Do you expect me to tell you everything? To immediately trust you? I don't know you, Gojo!"

He flinched at that, the anger in him was rising. "At least I try to get to know you! You just run away from me and don't even consider us working together! How should I know you, if you don't open up?!"

"How do you expect me to just open up?" you hiccuped, the tears now falling, the paper in your hands getting wet. "Since the beginning of the discussion of this marriage you rejected my existence. You made me deal with our Clan relationships alone since our wedding day, how do you expect me to just share all of it now with you?"

Your breathing was uneven, the tears blocking your lungs, making it oh so hard to breathe.

"But I am trying right now-"

"I know, okay?" your voice began to fall apart, becoming more hoarse. "I know you try, but a couple of conversations don't fix everything! I don't expect you to fix everything right now, but you have to forgive me if I can't switch up after a couple of days. This isn't your issue, it's mine."

His body was shaking a bit. He was still so tall, you couldn't look at his face, it seemed impossible. "I think our marriage shouldn't be discussed with these old hags. That isn't just your issue, it's mine too."

"It's not about how our marriage is going." speaking was hurting a bit, and the words were heavy on your lips. It felt so unfair. "It's about what… I should do. How my Clan relies on me in this. How I have to steady their relationship with the Gojo Clan." Through a heir.

"And how can I trust you on that?" his eyes seemed so coldly empty, it was almost scary. A person can be so different. His words stung and at the same time almost made you laugh.

"You talk a lot about me needing to open up and trust you, but at the same time you sneak into my letters and my business." You stood up.

"I think that says more about you than me."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

After that evening Gojo said he had to go on a 'mission' and that the Honeymoon would be fine to be cut short. He left the same morning. There was already an uber for you ready, the little hotelroom for yourself and his things long gone.

You really shouldn't surprised and you hated yourself for crying that morning after he left. But it still hurt. How he could always just leave. You felt so alone.

And now you were 'home'.

You couldn't stand looking at him for too long that was clear from the dinner yesterday. You couldn't stand his anger.

You just wanted to curl yourself in a ball and sleep forever. But even the sleep was a chore, the nightmares still not leaving. The only good time was with the young Hina, who made you go outside and for the first time you explored the big mansion you were living in.

And even though it was tiring, you were happy she made you go through the big halls. It gave you a task, a new adventure, something else than the next meeting with them to focus on.

The garden was beautiful. All the flowers, some you have never seen or heard from before, blooming in these varieties of vibrant colors. The big trees giving a safe place from the sun and a small lake, which you could sit next to.

"Do you feel better, My lady?" Hina was desperately trying to make you feel better, she was really a sweet girl.

"Yeah, it's calming here." the breeze which made your hair float a bit was refreshing.

"I'm glad." she smiled, "I was a bit worried after you ate without my lord this morning.

The cold that came over you made you shiver. What should you tell her? What would she think of the truth? How would she react? You'd better not tell her, hina had other problems. Hina shouldn't find out what you're going through and even if she did, would she tell Gojo? Would she tell him what your mother said to you? No, you couldn't risk that, it just wasn't reasonable.

She was such a nice girl.

So caring. So open minded. How were you so lucky? To have a face around you that's not stoic? You couldn't be more thankful.

"Oh, We just agreed to eat separately because of our different bed and his work time. And he has to eat early, that's why."

She locked a bit perplexed. And the little frown on her face told you that she didn't really believe you. But she didn't press anymore, just explained the flowers to you.

"Should we go to the library next?"

"That sounds lovely."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ Satoru never felt so bad. Yeah, he felt guilty a couple of times but never like this. But at the same time he was hurt. It felt like something was pressed down in his stomach and pushed around, when he just thought of these old bastards working with you.

He felt terrible. How was he supposed to act now? he wanted to go talk to you, but at the same time he felt like that would only make things worse. You worked with these people, you tolerated their ways. These people who were the root of the problem of this doomed society.

Maybe you did it all for your clan, but shouldn't your marriage with him be your priority now? Maybe he was being a selfish asshole, but it just hurt so damn much.

And then there was the letter. He still had the second letter, the one from your mother that you had left on your bedside table.

And he just didn't know whether he should open it or not. Actually he wanted to, actually he had to, because he wanted to know what was really written in there, but…

There was also the hurt look on your face when he had opened the other one. Every time he closed his eyes he saw this vulnerable expression on your face.

Would you even be able to forgive him then?

At the same time, you had lied to him and he just didn't know what to believe anymore. What should he do?

The paper in his hands was heavy, hard and incredibly uncomfortable in his hand, it was as if it was cursed.

He still knew the letter from the higher-ups by heart.

Dear Mrs. Gojo,

We are pleased to inform you that your little misstep is being forgiven. We hope you have a good honeymoon. Despite everything, we are still very unhappy with the incident and hope that you have learned from it to let us know before you act. But we are glad that you have taken the matter into your own hands and wish you happy days in which you hopefully get your husband under control.

See you at the next meeting.

The paper rustled in his hand and although his heart was beating incredibly fast, almost like to stop him, he opened the paper with his shaking fingers.

He was in the jujutsu academy near his old classroom. His mission was long finished. Earlier this day he wanted to talk to Geto about everything that has happened but his friend had accepted a mission that would probably take a while.

And now Satoru was alone to make probably a bad decision.

On the letter were numbers, no rather a date not so far away, which made him shiver.

Something was odd with the way the letter was written, the writing of your mother felt eerily. And he felt cursed energy. No, there had to be something wrong with your mother.

Should he really read it? Was it really his business what your mother was writing you?

The last week he got to see and hear you cry every night. Whispering your mother's name in fear. Maybe you did because you missed her. But something about this woman ticked something in him off.

He didn't want to sneak around behind your back.

But it began to be his business, the moment he started to care about his darling wife.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The Friday knocked on the door of your mind every minute of every day. And even though you didn't want to open the door for it, it did come around.

And you knew as you woke up that it would be torture.

You were tired. It was surreal how you could even stand up. How were you supposed to attend a meeting like that?

With a heavy heart you got ready and your eyes fell on the old hairpin your mother had given you - she really was everywhere.

This morning hina hadn't come by your room at all to tell you that gojo was eating breakfast.

Was it really still that early? No, it was almost noon. Oh God, noon! You had to get ready, you should be there soon!

Once again, they had scheduled so much time that you felt horrible. Would you have to listen to them babble on for hours again, the nasty words about your clan and how you would defile it?

"Hina?," you picked up your things and got ready. "I have to go now, would you please let the cook know that I'm not eating here today?"

There was no answer for a long time but eventually the girl came in with wide eyes.

"What do you mean, you are going?" she asked.

"Of course, Ihave to go to the meeting, didn't I tell you? Ihave an appointment." you took your hairpin and this time you even got ready with it.

"But why today?"

"I told you I have to go today. It's Friday, isn't it?"

Hina seemed different, somehow more tense than usual and it didn't make you feel good.

"If you say so." she said and picked up a few things that were dirty. "But please come back on time, not as late as last time, my lady."

A chuckle escaped you, as you saw her worried look. Why was she so tense about this?

"Don't worry, I won't die."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Did you make any progress?"

You wanted to eat your words. Since you came into the building you once called home you felt like a corpse. Your mother wasn't here, the maids telling you she got sick this morning.

You thought it wouldn't be that bad without her but you were mistaken. Normally she would sit beside you on the other side of the table, but now you sat there alone, like you were fighting against them on your own. Like no one here was on your side.

"My Honeymoon was lovely, thank you." you didn't know how the sentence slipped past your lips, but your exhaustion made your tongue slippery and your attitude bigger.

"Be careful young lady, you can be very thankful you are even still his wife! After your little misstep you can be very grateful for our forgiveness." an elderly woman spoke.

Every meeting she picked at you and took you apart. She always seemed so mad at you.

"I am." you lowered your head, hitting yourself for your carelessness.

"So there is a baby on the way?"

The leader of them, an old man with a long beard was looking at you with a neutral look. You could never read him.

The question scared you since you left for your honeymoon. This pressure on top of you was making you sick. The weight of it making you dizzy. What were you supposed to do? If you told them no, you could easily be banished back to your own Clan, and lose all of respect your mother had left for you.

If you told them yes, then you had to…

No, no, no, no, why? Why did you have to be a puppet for them? Why couldn't you just live? Why did you have to push all your emotions aside and drown them?

You were so scared of the night. So scared of the act you should have already done.

"It isn't, isn't it?" the elderly woman laughed as you gripped your stomach.

And even though it was empty, you felt like throwing up.

"I told you!" the woman stood up. "This girl shouldn't have been chosen for this! We need a woman who knows what is at stake here, not a filthy selfish little girl, who cries at the pressure!"

Every word pierced you, and you hated that tears formed themselves.

"Someone like your granddaughter?" The 'leader' of them raised an eyebrow. "Please, Kamo, that's ridiculous. And not in our control. Mrs. Gojo wanted to meet every girl and judge them personally. And be in control of the relations with other Clans."

His look at you was just as poisonous, regardless of his previous words.

"We have to work with this. Until we have found an alternative."

An alternative.

You were screwed. They had already a search going for a replacement. Were already ready to drop you and break the news to your Clan.

"I think she is misunderstanding something." A man, who was a bit younger than the rest, smiled smugly at you. "This whole thing isn't about love or wanting to do things. It's about what you have to do."

"So just get it over with and spare yourself the trouble?"

Your body felt so heavy, everything tense, fighting the urge to run away, to throw up and hide all at once.

Suddenly the door swung open and one of the guards came in completely out of breath and visibly agitated.

"I really tried, but I just couldn't stop him! That's just not in my power." he was out of breath.

"What are you talking about?" the old 'leader' stood up and suddenly looked so small. His eyes were big, something like fear was there.

"Well.." the guard looked uncomfortable.

And then you heard it. At first you thought it was one of them but then you realized.

"What do you think you are doing, talking to my wife like that?"

No, that couldn't be. How? How was he here? Why? What did you give away? No, this had to be one of your dumb dreams. Because it just couldn't be that Satoru Gojo just came through that door-

Oh.

Satoru had clothes on you had never seen on him before. It was an kimono, the usual for Clan leaders. His face was concentrated, didn't show any weakness in front of this important people. Instead it was almost belittling how he looked at them.

"There you are sweetheart!" his face lit up, as he spotted you, there was no sign of your fight and his anger. There was just Satoru.

He walked over to you, all these oh so mighty people clearing the way for him. He didn't even bat an eye at them. Without any hesitation he sat down next to you.

"Now, it really wasn't polite to not inform me of this meeting." he looked at them, with one of his challenging smiles. "But I will forgive it this one time. Now, what did you want to discuss with the Gojo leaders?"

You could see the shock in their faces. The elderly that screamed earlier, now glaring at you. Her gaze was almost cutting you, it was that sharp. And the old leader hesitated before sitting down.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered into his ear, careful to be silent enough that they wouldn't hear you.

"We will talk later." he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

"This wasn't really a meeting with the Gojo leaders." the slightly younger man spoke up, breaking the silence from the mighty higher-ups.

"Oh, but I don't understand." Gojo tilted his head. "If it wasn't then why did you speak to my wife?"

A shiver went down your back as you saw into their faces. They didn't say anything. Suddenly the position of power was shifted and they were careful to say something.

"It was about her duties for her Clan." the elderly woman shook her head. "And she was specifically asked to be her alone."

"I wonded," His grip on your hand tightened. "What of these duties are so important, you can't discuss with me too? Because last time I checked, my wife's Clan was the Gojo Clan now. So what responsibility does she hold that I don't?"

Your hands began to sweat. All of these people were shooting daggers at you and you felt like you would be murdered if Satoru left the room.

"She still has to make the relation of the Gojo Clan with her old one better-"

"And why can't I be there too?" Satoru started to laugh. "That's the thing you don't really have a reason other than to play my wife against me. Don't you?"

You couldn't help but lower your head. The tears now pushing your head down.

"Well, she wanted to come alone with her mother!" the woman who seemed to be called Kamo spoke loudly. Now you could feel all of their gazes. "Didn't you, Mrs. Gojo?"

Your body began to heat up, fire embracing you, swallowing you whole. It was itching. Decisions, decisions, decisions, why were you not doing anything, why couldn't you move? Your own body felt like a prison.

"You dumb girl, say something!" you heard her scream again. "If you don't then-"

Suddenly her voice died down. You could feel the shift and pressure was falling off of you onto the ground. And as you slowly rose your head you saw the woman pressed onto the wall, the others all in a fighting pose.

"Be careful what you are saying." Satoru's voice was icy. His eyes were like a warning and he didn't even move to activate his cursed technique. Was that the great Gojo your father was so fond about?

"Anyone talking ill about ot to my wife makes themself the Gojo Clan as enemy. And you know what I'm capable of."

The woman dropped to the ground.

"I think we can move the meeting to another day, can't we?"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Why were you there today?"

Satoru sat on the opposite side of the dining table, the car ride home with him long behind you two. You waited till home to talk to him, the courage finally growing.

He stopped eating and looked up at you. He still had these clothes on, the ones that mirrored his real position.

He shifted in his seat, his eyes avoiding yours.

Then he sighed and dropped his cutlery. "I didn't want you to be alone with them."

You shook your head. "Why? I told you, it's just about-

"Stop it." he raised a hand. "Please let me talk."

You kept quiet after that. Now it was your turn to look down.

"I've been so angry the last few days. You accused me of not knowing you, but at the same time you pretended to know what my childhood was like. How could you have known that? I've known these people since i was little, i know about their games, their desire for control and especially their obsession with strength."

His voice was slightly shaking. "I'm not denying that I had some freedom, but I want you to know that a big cage is still holding someone down. And these people have always controlled my cage."

You wanted to say something, but every sentence that your head crafted was forgotten in the next second.

"But," he began, his voice now a little firmer. "It still didn't give me the right to be like this to you. Mainly I want to apologize to you and that I came to the meeting today was not because I didn't trust you but because I couldn't stand the thought of them torturing you."

"I'm sorry for invading your privacy. I know it wasn't right and I'm sorry that I only realized it after I read the letter from your mother."

You pushed the chair back so violently, it fell over. "You did, WHAT?"

Satoru looked down, shameful.

"That's why you knew where and when we would meet up?" you couldn't contain the hurt in your voice, but for the first time you didn't care.

He nodded.

"Do you really think I'm acting against you, or-"

"No!" Now it was his turn to stand up. And in only a matter of seconds he stood right before you. "It's not because I think badly of you!"

His hands were going through his hair, making it much messier than usual. You saw how he bit his lip, and it felt surreal to see Gojo Satoru so vulnerable.

"I- All of this was just driving me crazy!" he sighed frustrated. "Knowing you meet up with these people and didn't even want me to know about it. Knowing these people were talking and seeing you more than I was."

Your mind went blank as you looked at his eyes. Were they always this sad?

"When you said you wanted to have a Honeymoon to get to know me, I felt so happy, so relieved!" he turned around and paced around the rooom.

"Do you know how you look at me?" his voice was shaking. "Scared. You look at me like you are scared of me. Like I will do you wrong. Like it's me that's pressuring you."

He stopped in his tracks and let out a shaky laugh. "And then I thought that I was maybe imagining that and you weren't scared of me."

He shook his head. "And then I saw the letter. I didn't read it right away, but when I asked you some things, you lied to me and had that scared look again. And… I don't know, it was so crushing to know you never wanted to go with me on our honeymoon!"

His voice broke down a bit at the end.

And as you stood there, you felt yourself becoming shaky too. You didn't want him to think that. You were mad at him, you were still hurt, obviously, but…

You didn't want him to be hurt too.

"Satoru…" you began, but he raised another hand to stop you.

"That still doesn't excuse what I did. I don't want you to pity me into forgiveness."

You shook your head. "I am at fault too." One step towards him. "I just have my problems to trust you right away. But you were right."

You smiled as you looked down. "I do accuse you of not knowing me, but then run away from you trying. That's unfair."

As you looked up, he was already looking at him. And you could see a slight redness in his oh so blue eyes.

"I will try to open up more."

He gulped as stared at you. "I will be patient. And- I will make it up to you, till you forgive me! Really, I will never invade your-"

You chuckled a bit, some of the forming tears in your eyes escaping. "It's alright Satoru. You don't have to promise the world right now."

"Let's take it slow. That's a start."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ It was late at night. You were sitting on the couch in Satoru's big living room. You were watching a movie, he was begging to show you.

And for the first time since that night you were relaxed and all the exhaustion fell from you. Your head fell onto his shoulder, any feel of shame was long gone from being so tired.

He didn't move as you were drifting into your long awaited sleep.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he was whispering as you hummed.

"I still want to apologize. For not appearing to any arrangement meetings. I never did that."

His shoulder was really soft and you felt so heavy.

"I hope you sleep well, sweetheart. You deserve it more than anyone."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

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[eternalxvenus]

༻ room for one more? ༺

summary: after many failed dates, you begin to give up on the dating scene until Sarah and John B give you an interesting proposal.

cw: smut 18+, sarah x f!reader x john b, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, baby), brief drug use, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 3.6k

notes: thank you to the lovely @juniebugg for giving me this amazing idea, i loved writing it and hope i did it justice 🙏🏽

☆ obx masterlist ☆

The sun was setting but the day was still hot, a soft wind tickling your skin. You were lying on your towel, opting to enjoy the last few rays of the sun with Kie. JJ, Pope, John B, Cleo, and Sarah were all in the water swimming and playing around. You all had a rough week for different reasons and so JJ called for a mandatory beach day.

As you dozed in and out, listening to the sound of the waves, Kie nudged your side softly. "So... how is the whole dating thing coming along?"

Even though she was genuinely curious, you couldn't help the sting of embarrassment as you tried not to groan. "Not so great. I have a date with Kelce tomorrow, but I'm not over the moon excited." You turned to look at Kie through your sunglasses with a tight smile. "If this one doesn't work out, I'm giving up."

Her nose scrunched up in mild disapproval. "Kelce? I didn't think you'd go for someone in that circle.

Truth be told, you usually wouldn't. Even though the whole Kooks vs Pogues thing isn't as relevant anymore, some Kooks were still stuck in their old ways. "Me either. He came up to me and started a conversation at the boneyard a couple nights ago and asked for my number. Now we suddenly have a date at the country club," you sighed with a shrug.

"Even if it doesn't go well, don't stress it. You don't have to push a relationship anytime soon– you're still young."

You sat up and turned onto your back, deciding to take a nap while you could. "Easy for you to say. You have JJ, Cleo has Pope, and Sarah has John B. I'm the odd one out." Kie gave you a solemn smile but didn't say anything else, which you were thankful for.

A few hours later, everyone was out of the water, and the wind picked up leaving goosebumps on their wet skin. While everyone was drying off, Kie woke you up and said it was time to go.

You asked John B to take you home because you had plans tomorrow. As everyone laughed and joked around with one another, you couldn't bring yourself to be in a cheerful mood knowing they each had their special person within the group.

Once you were home, you immediately took a warm shower to try and let the warm water relax you. It did somewhat, but it didn't stop your brain from overthinking. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning in bed, one melatonin later, you finally were able to fall asleep and stay asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The room was unbearably hot when you woke up. You flung the covers off you as you wiped the light sheen of sweat from your forehead. You'd left the window open, and your AC wasn't on. With an irritated groan, you got up and closed the window. Wanting to cool down your room as quick as possible, you turned the AC on as low as it could go.

You checked your phone and saw a few missed messages.

Kie: have fun on your date, lmk how it goes!

Sarah: if you aren't busy later come swing by the chateau :)

Kelce: morning, i'll be there at 1 to pick you up for lunch. can't wait to see you.

You sent in your replies and got ready for your date with Kelce. Light makeup and a cute but simple white dress. As you grabbed it from your closet, you saw the red dress you shoved in the back with the price tag still attached. You'd bought it impulsively while shopping with the girls one day but had never worn it. 

It was a mid-thigh deep cherry red with a slit and showed off your cleavage perfectly—according to Sarah, at least. It had never seen the outside of your closet, no matter how many times your friends tried to make you wear it. You never felt like you could truly pull it off.

There were five minutes to spare when you'd finally finished up. As you were spraying your perfume a text from Kelce came in letting you know he was outside. You grabbed your purse and met him outside, where he sat in his car.

A small sigh left your lips. He didn't bother to meet you at the door. Perhaps he wasn't the gentleman type. You got into his expensive car, the leather seat cool from the AC blasting on high.

"Ready to go?" He asked, giving you a once over. You nodded softly and gave him a small smile. Neither of you spoke much the entire ride there. You sat on your phone checking social media, playing games, anything to pass the time.

Kelce parked in front of the country club and beckoned you to follow him. He led you to the outdoor patio that connected to a restaurant. After a waiter sat you both and you ordered drinks, Kelce started the conversation.

"So, is this your first time at the country club?."

"Uh... yeah, it is."

"What do you think of it?" he said, taking a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of him.

You shrugged, "It's nice, I can see why people come here." There was a beat of silence and you knew this date wasn't going to be the best.

"Honestly, I'm surprised we're here right now. I never thought I'd be taking a pogue on a date at the country club. But you're really hot, so I've got no complaints."

His statement made you internally roll your eyes. "Right..."

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were back home, feet aching slightly from your shoes, and the heat was making you feel groggy and gross. The date was not good. All Kelce could talk about was himself, the kook life, and how he wanted to bring you to a party at Topper's next week. You declined. He also made slick remarks about you being a pogue which pissed you off.

You: hey sarah, i'll be over in a bit.

She sent a thumbs to your message. You got in your car and made your way to the chateau. When you pulled up, you saw John B out by the deck. 

Inside you could see Sarah walking around so you went in to greet her.

"Hey, I'm here," you said knocking on the door as you walked inside. 

"Hey! Glad you could make it." She sat the plates she was holding into the cabinet and motioned for you to sit. She came over and sat next to you on the couch as you both got comfortable. "Kie mentioned you had a date… how did it go?"

You picked at your nails and shook your head. "Not too great."

Sarah hummed sympathetically. "Well, Kelce isn’t as interesting as he makes himself out to be." You both laughed as you nodded in agreement.

You laid back on the couch letting your head fall back. "When is everyone else coming?" assuming Sarah or John B had something planned for everyone tonight.

"Actually, I only invited you. John B and I wanted to talk to you about something," she sighed. You felt nervousness bloom in your stomach as she stood up. "I'm gonna go get John B, just sit tight."

While waiting for them to come back your mind was wandering, not sure what could be so important that they had to talk to you together and in person. The door swung open and Sarah walked back in with John B right behind her. No one spoke as they pulled up two chairs and sat in front of you on the couch. John B gave a soft smile which helped your nerves just a little.

"Okay so," Sarah spoke up. "We weren't really sure how to go about this so just bear with me here. You're one of our best friends and we've spent a lot of time together over the years..."

You could hear your heart beating in your ears, almost drowning out Sarah's voice. Please don't tell me they don't want to be friends anymore, you thought to yourself.

"Anyways, me and John B have been talking. We both find you attractive obviously. And we wanted to invite you to bed with us! Like a threesome." Sarah had a smile on her face and your eyes widened.

"W-what? You want to have a threesome? With me?" They both nodded.

"Basically, me and Sarah had been talking and we asked each other who we'd want to hook up with if we were single. To our surprise we both said you, so we figured why not just ask."

Your face felt burning hot with shyness and embarrassment. You'd only had sex one time and it wasn't all that great. You and your boyfriend at the time had wanted to lose your virginities to each other but neither of you knew what you were doing.

Sarah's hand grabbed yours and pulled you out of your swarming thoughts. "You don't have to answer right now." She was caressing the back of your hand with her thumb reassuringly. "Go home and just think about it. We'll be waiting patiently for your answer— no pressure at all, okay?"

The air in the room felt a little less heavy. You knew they wouldn't force you or be mad if you decided not to. "Okay," you said with a small smile.

They both hugged you, walked you to your car, and waved you off home. On the ride back, all you could think about was whether you should accept or not. You weren't experienced and didn't want to disappoint them.

You were laying in bed but once again couldn't sleep. You decided to take a few hits of the weed pen JJ had given you a while back, it's lasted you a while since you only use it when you can't sleep or need to relax.

Once you felt the high encompassing your mind you laid down and closed your eyes. Your mind drifted to the thought of being in bed with Sarah and John B. With that, you fell asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

It had been three days since your threesome invitation. You had thought about it a lot. Even though you hadn't spoken to Sarah and John B directly, you all still talked in the group chat with everyone else like normal.

It was still early in the morning when you texted Sarah.

You: hey are you and John B up yet?

20 minutes later, you got a reply.

Sarah: good morning! i am but he's still sleeping lol. what's up?

You: i've given it some thought and i wanna do this but are you sure? i'm not the most experienced when it comes to all that

Sarah: i'm so happy! thank you for trusting us and don't worry we'll both be there to guide you. are you free tonight?

You said yes and she told you to come over at 7. That gave you 11 hours to completely freak out before heading over there.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The warm air from outside blew into your car as you sat outside the chateau, trying to give yourself a mini pep talk. They suggested that you come in loungewear, so you wore shorts and a cropped tank top with no bra, all things considered.

You went up and knocked on the door and waited. John B came and greeted you with a hug. He didn't hide the fact that he was taking in your body. 

"Hey, come in. Sarah's finishing up in the shower so she should be out in a few minutes." With a brief nod, you followed him inside.

It was so weird, normally the chateau felt like a second home. You'd help yourself to whatever and never felt out of place. This time it was the complete opposite. You didn't want to touch anything or sit without someone telling you to. You felt like a guest, who was visiting for the first time.

John B sensed your nervousness and gave you a smirk. "Don't get all shy now sweetheart, we haven't even started. Speaking of which, is there anything you wanna do? We could have some takeout, watch a movie, anything really."

You gave him a puzzled look. "I thought we were going to... you know."

"I love your enthusiasm," he chuckled. "We are, but Sarah and I both thought it'd be best to ease into it rather than just jump right in. We want this to be as comfortable as possible for you."

It was the little things like this that reminded you that these are your best friends. They knew you like the back of their hand and wanted this to be enjoyable for you and them. "A movie sounds nice," you said with a smile.

A little while later you were all sat on the couch watching some random movie that you'd picked. It wasn't all that good but you were still tuned in. Your eyes glanced away from the TV when you felt Sarah's hand start grazing the inside of your thigh. She was still facing forward almost as if nothing was happening. You looked back at the TV and spread your legs a little wider.

It was summer, entirely too hot for any blankets— even with the cool air of the AC blowing— so if John B looked, he'd see what was happening. The light, teasing touches went on for a few more minutes and you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. You were ready to break the silence and ask for more until you felt John B's lips on your neck. A soft gasp slipped past your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.

"This okay?" he muttered against your neck, and you nodded. "Use your words, pretty girl."

You managed to whimper out a soft 'Yes' which encouraged them both to keep going. Sarah's hand moved higher, lightly rubbing you through your shorts. A moan slipped from your pouty lips at the contact and you tried grinding your hips against her hand for more stimulation. "Let's go to the bed," Sarah whispered.

The short walk was filled with little kisses and light touches, none of you wanted to stop even for a second. Sarah instructed you to take off your clothes and lay on the bed. She and John B did the same as she sat behind you and John B positioned himself in between your thighs.

"Fuck... your pussy is dripping." You attempt to close your legs but he has a strong grip on your thighs. "Don't try and hide yourself, I wanna see everything."

Sarah brought her hands up to massage your tits, your nipples feeling painfully hard. "John B is gonna use his mouth to make you feel good, okay?"

"Okay– oh!" He wasted no time licking a long stripe to collect your arousal on his tongue.

"How does she taste baby?" Sarah asked. You could hear the lust and neediness in her voice. "She's so fucking sweet, like candy." John B couldn't help but moan as he continued to move his tongue in and out of your hole. You felt one of Sarah's hands leave your breast to touch herself behind you. Her soft moans make you even more turned on.

John B brought his mouth to your clit and sucked hard. That was all it took to have you falling over the edge in pleasure. One hand squeezed Sarah's arm while the other tugged on John B's brown tresses. Your moans filled the room as you rode out your first orgasm of the night.

Sarah replaced your spot in front of John B and once again he wasted no time lapping at her essence. Once she reached her peak John B didn't stop he was pushing her into overstimulation and instructed you to hold her legs open.

"John B! Please– ohmygod– it's too much!" she tried to push his head away but he didn't budge until he pulled another orgasm from her. You watched in amazement as she started to squirt making a mess of the bed and his face. He wore your combined juices proudly, not bothering to wipe any of it off. 

You leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Fuck Sarah you look so hot like this, squirting all over the place, being so messy." She whimpered at your words as John B finally gave her some reprieve.

She pulled you down so your lips collided with hers in a heated bruising kiss. Her tongue swiped across your lip and made its way into your mouth massaging your tongue.

In the corner of your eye, you saw John B stroking his hard cock slowly. Sarah noticed as well and gave you a smirk. "Let's show him how thankful you are for making you cum."

John B positioned himself up against the headboard and Sarah brought you face to face with his length. "Grab the base and take him into your mouth. He likes it really messy," She whispered while keeping her gaze on him. You followed her instructions and did your best to please him.

Once you'd taken as much as you could into your mouth, a light gag leaving your throat, he groaned. "Fuuuuck, that's it, take it all in that tight little throat." You went at your own pace for a bit, then Sarah took over gagging you on his cock at a brutal pace. Your eyes watered and there was spit and drool all over your chin and his pelvis. John B's thighs tensed and without warning his load filled your throat forcing you to swallow it all. 

You coughed a bit and Sarah rubbed your back soothingly while you and John B caught his breath. "You did so good baby." She went to kiss your neck and caress your body.

The praise did things to you. "Thank you." John B pulled you against him and kissed you deeply. "Do you wanna keep going, sweetheart?" John B muttered against your lips. The room felt so hot in combination with all the body heat and the summer air. You were definitely spent, but you wanted to go again. "I want you inside, please."

He nodded and moved you down to straddle him. Sarah moved to sit on his face, facing you. She moaned, feeling his tongue on her clit again. You sink down on his length feeling completely and utterly full. Sarah pulled you in for a kiss as you rocked your hips in a slow rhythm.

The stimulation on your clit from grinding felt delicious, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. One look at Sarah and you could tell she was close too. "I wanna cum together," you whispered against her lips. "Okay, together." she nodded. John B pushed his hips up to get impossibly deeper and gave a harsh such on Sarah's clit, pushing you both over the edge.

You both collapsed onto the bed, your body completely worn out. Sarah and John B left kisses and comforting touches anywhere they could, telling you how well you did and that they were so proud. Their voices faded away as sleep overtook you.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A month after your night with Sarah and John B things couldn't have been better. You'd spent many pleasure-filled nights at the chateau. They were always showing you something new and making you feel so good. There were even times when it would be just one of them if the other was busy or not around.

You weren't expecting the text from Sarah asking you to come over considering you were just there two days ago. She asked you the wear that red dress which made you even more confused.

Walking into the chateau, not bothering to knock, you saw the table with lots of food and a candle adorning the middle of the table. "What's all this?" you questioned. John B and Sarah both turned from their spot in the kitchen and greeted you. 

"We wanted to do something special to thank you, you look beautiful by the way," he said leading you to the empty chair. They sat down at the table and you could tell something was coming up. Even Sarah looked a bit nervous. Maybe they were going to end things.

"So, we don't want to keep you here with this uncertainty. We did all these because this past month has been amazing. You've always been a great friend and I think– we think– doing this has made us incredibly closer." You nod in agreement. "We want you to be our girlfriend. We'll be an official polyamorous couple. I don't want to have to give you up to someone else and neither does Sarah. We want you to be ours and we'll be yours completely."

You felt like the wind had been sucked out of you. They wanted you to be their girlfriend. Before you could say anything Sarah chimed in. "Sorry if this seems sudden and we understand if you want to keep things how they are. You don't have to have an answer–"

"Of course I would," you cut her off with a wide smile. You could see the worry leave both of their faces. "God I love you." Sarah laughed leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, John B following suit.

The rest of the night was spent having an amazing dinner and even better sex with your new partners. Never in a million years did you think this would be your life but you loved it and you loved them. They were your best friends and lovers wrapped in one.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[smutoperator]

Taming The Tiger

Kim Chaehyun x Male Reader

Tags: all things tits, ball sucking, begging, choking, creampie, degrading, dominant man, facefucking, mounting, multiple orgasms, nipple pinching, pantyless, parking lot quickie, pearly gates, public sex, ripping clothes, rough sex, screaming, sexting, slapping, tit fucking, tit groping, tit sucking

Word count: 4492.

It had been a while since you gathered on a Friday in front of the KBS building to see the idols headed to Music Bank. As Kep1er were having a comeback, their last as 9 members, they got the most attention, especially a red-haired white tiger flaunting the massive assets on her chest.

Chaehyun smiled when she saw you. It had been nearly 9 months since you two crossed paths. She knew she had to act quickly and seize the opportunity. So, a few minutes later, your phone rang with a special notification.

"Wanna have fun with those tonight?" Chaehyun sent the message asking you, with two topless pics attached, one with her hands covering her big boobs and another with them fully on display. "Meet me at the parking lot after the show," you replied to her. "Sure," she said.

The hours passed by, and your anxiety only grew. You were very horny for that big-boobed little white tiger. You decided to take some coffee to not fall asleep and remained preserverant, waiting for Chaehyun.

Chaehyun finally arrived at your car, parked right at the KBS building parking lot exit. The windows were opened, but you weren't there. Maybe this wasn't meant to be the day. But she was about to get a surprise.

Seeing Chaehyun already at your car, you dropped the cup of coffee in your hand and slowly approached it, being careful for her not to spot you. Emerging from the same door as Chaehyun, you grabbed her from behind, right at their most coveted spot.

"Missed me?" she asked you, your left hand already on her boobs while your right hand covered her mouth. "Shhhhh," you told her. Although you had parked your car in a very private area of the parking lot, you didn't want to raise any concerns about getting spotted because you knew Chaehyun could be a very loud screamer if she wanted to.

"Shut the fuck up; I'm gonna take that pussy right here, ok?" you asked her. "Hmm hmmm," Chaehyun nodded as your hand covered her mouth. "Don't scream," you ordered her as you pulled her jeans down, satisfied with what you saw.

"You really came in prepared," you told her. "No panties whatsoever," you continued, spanking her ass and making her giggle. "Hmm, your butt isn't as big as Hikaru's or Yeseo's, but it's quite slappable," you told Chaehyun shortly after, giving her another spank.

You covered Chaehyun's mouth again and started running your hands over her already wet pussy. "Today you're going to do what I told you," you said. "Yes, baby," she said, but you couldn't hear much with her mouth covered.

Just a little massage in her pussy and you were good to go, taking your belt off as Chaehyun placed her right leg through the car's back window. "I'm gonna use this fucking pussy like a fleshlight," you told her, already sticking the tip of your cock inside it. Chaehyun moaned a bit as she covered her mouth with her arms this time not to make much noise.

Chaehyun gave you a big smile as you stuck your cock deeper inside her, letting out a louder moan shortly after. "Shhhhh, I told you not to be loud," you said. She gave you an apologetic stare, moaning silently this time. "This tight little fuckhole is perfect to get used," you told her as you started thrusting in and out of her pussy. She rested her head on the car's column, muffling her moans as best as she could, but not without a couple screams in between when you managed to hit her more sensitive spots.

"Oh My God, hmmmm," Chaehyun moaned and giggled as you found the rhythm to take on her tight pussy. Her out-of-breath moans were quite hot, and you praised her efforts to not let any sneaky stranger ruin your parking lot quickie with her. "Have you ever had the fantasy of having your pussy stretched out at the garage of a building?" you asked her. "No, but it feels so good, ahhh," she replied.

"AHHH. AHHHH. AHHHH. OHHHH. OHHHH. OHHHH." Chaehyun tried to contain her screams, but that didn't last long. It was in her natural instincts, and your cock was just too good for the little tiger. You had to pull out and massage her pussy a bit, but that only made her get louder, forcing you to place your hand in her mouth.

"Calm down with the screaming; I don't want KBS staff to see us," you told her, punishing Chaehyun for being a screaming whore as you now gave fast-paced pumps into her cunt. Her urge to scream was higher than ever, but your hands were there this time to prevent her from doing so. But even with them covering her mouth, she was still loud enough for her pleasurable moanings to be well heard.

It had been a few minutes, and you had yet to touch Chaehyun's most coveted assets. But you quickly fixed this, ripping her top apart and unveiling her bare milk trucks. "Oh yeah, OHHHHH," Chaehyun couldn't contain herself as you quickly groped her tits while still pumping her pussy hard. Her nipples were your preferred spot, as you soon find your rhythm to massage and pinch them at will.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, AHHHH, AHHH," Chaehyun moans got louder as your hard thrusts meant her boobs were getting smashed against the car's column. Without pulling you, you took her right leg away from the car's back window, shoving her face down it instead. "If you're gonna be a screming bitch, better do it inside," you told her.

Chaehyun giggled as her boobs rested right against the cold surface of your car's backdoor. "There you go," you said as you pushed her body from the waist up inside the vehicle. "Oh my God," she said, and more prayers followed as you pounded her from behind nonstop while your hands gave her breasts the much-needed massage they deserved.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, fuck," Chaehyun said as you keep fucking her. "Get on your knees," you said, pulling her from the window as she obliged and went directly to suck your dick. You quickly tied her hands behind her back and started plowing her face. Chaehyun had to open her mouth to the fullest, as your cock was too thick for her little mouth, making her widen it and stick her tongue out.

"Bet you learned that stuff in your trips to Japan, cause you look like a human onahole." You paid attention to Chaehyun's tongue, not missing the opportunity to degrade her. "But now you're gonna show me what you really are: a human cow," you continued.

Chaehyun got the message as she pushed her saggy boobs up for you to stick your cock in between them. You titfucked Chaehyun much faster than you fucked her pussy, making her let out even more out-of-breath moans. "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah," Chaehyun reacted every time your throbbing tip emerged out of her massive honkers, spitting on it and licking it a few times. 

"You're having too much fun for my liking," you tell her, grabbing Chaehyun by her neck and pinning her against the car, going back inside her pussy. This time, you have no concerns about her screaming. As a matter of fact, the louder the better. 

"AHHHHH FUCKKKKK, OHHHHH SHITTTT, OH MY GOD, AHHHHHH, YESSSS," Chaehyun screams as you fuck her like a toy, ducking your head down to such her tits simultaneously to all the pounding you give her. "USE MY FUCKING PUSSY, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she continues to yell, enjoying being stretched out like a fleshlight as her smile gets brighter than ever.

"AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH," Chaehyun moans and giggles as she creams all over your cock. "Now, let's go home," you tell her. It felt like much more, but you guys fucked for a little under 10 minutes in the parking lot.

Running vroom vroom vroom like a supersonic and racing around the streets of Seoul like you were in a grand prix, you quickly reached your home. Your cock is still throbbing as Chaehyun jerked it off all the way through it like her personal gearshift. As soon as you get to your room, you shove Chaehyun's tiny body right in your spatious bed, topping her and giving her multiple kisses in her mouth and tits.

Chaehyun's big boobs get the most of your attention as you place your head between them and grope them hard while kissing her nipples. Soon, you start acting like a baby sucking his mother dry as you plunge your mouth into her areolas, wondering how big they would look with her pregnant and lactating.

"Ahhh, yes." Chaehyun loves the attention you give to her big tits, giggling every time you touch them. "Hmmm, so you like that, little tiger?" you rhetorically ask her as you now slap her fun bags and then rip apart the remnants of her top, surprising her with a hard dive straight into her left breast.

You then strip yourself naked and go back inside her pussy, placing Chaehyun's legs over her head. Her tight cunt means you have to spit on it a couple times to get in, but once you do, you ravage it, paying extra attention to reach into her boobs and grope one as you let the other freely bounce with the impact of your thrusts deep inside her.

Chaehyun prays to God once more, but he won't listen to her. Her nipples are now getting pinched hard as you can't stop pounding her. "Yes, yes, yes," she screams. "Shut up, bitch," you punch back, slapping her face. She reacts laughing at you, making you go feral and choke her again, showing who the real boss is, increasing the pace you pump her pussy and enjoying how hard her tits bounce as you do so.

But Chaehyun is a cute little slut and loves getting choked, reaching down her pussy as she starts fingering her clit, leading to her insides tightening around your shaft. "Oh my God, I fucking love it, oh yes," she says as you go back to pinch her nipples before getting even rougher and pinning her thighs against her body. 

"OH, OH, OH, OH," Chaehyun gives short but repeated moans as you continue to fuck her pussy. Her boobs bounce and are now hitting her thighs as her legs are fully open in the air. "OH, YES, YES, YES, FUCKKKK, GOSH," she yells as you attack her cunt full speed, slapping her face as she sticks her tongue out in pleasure. More choking and nipple-pinching ensues as you place Chaehyun into a fetal position and destroy her tiny little body with all your might.

"Fuck, that feels so good," Chaehyun says as you stimulate her tits with more sucking in between your hard thrusts. "AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, FUCK, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she announces loudly as your breast stimulation proves too much for her to handle and she fills your bedsheets full of juices.

"Shhhh," you keep telling Chaehyun to be silent, as that slut is so fucking loud the neighbors are probably hearing everything of your fuck session right now. But your pleading has been futile, so you decide to take it by yourself, shoving your cock straight into her mouth and hammering her face nonstop. Chaehyun doesn't mind it, as she loves tasting her juices from your cock as you fuck her face. "Open your fucking throat, bitch," you tell her, who instead tightens it as if you're fucking her second pussy, forcing you to stretch it out even further.

You turn Chaehyun's little body into your playground: cock in her mouth, tongue in her tits, hands in her pussy—every inch of this slutty little tiger is getting stimulated now. You go all the way down and give Chaehyun a very dominating 69, eating her folds as your cock destroys her tiny mouth.

The hours of dancing and recording seem to have tired Chaehyun a bit, but you aren't going to give her any rest, immediately placing her on all fours and putting your cock back in her pussy. "OH YES, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," Chaehyun scremas as you pump her hard from behind. She looks so good being a submissive little slut. 

"Fuck, abuse my pussy," Chaehyun says as she can't even stand straight, her boobs now smashing against the bedsheets. "I like when you're in control; I do," she tells you as you tie her arms behind her back. "Hmmm, you do? I guess I can do this then," you tell her.

Seizing the opportunity, you mount on top of Chaehyun. The little tiger is now getting fucked like a cow by your raging bull, her little pussy getting pounded balls deep by your thick cock. "Oh, fuck," she screams, quickly regretting her words as you tame her.

"OH MY GOD!" Chaehyun screams, clinging to the pillow as you show no mercy towards her pussy. Fast, hard, and deep, you destroy her cunt full throttle while grabbing her neck. "OH SHIT, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH," Chaehyun yells as she is turned into a little submissive fucktoy.

"Oh yeahhhh," you groan as you massacre Chaehyun's pussy. She can't even get on her knees anymore, you pressing her little body into the bed sheets in full force. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she begs, but the more she does, the harder you fuck her. Chaehyun gets prone-boned to oblivion while you massage her ass, as you apply to her the same position you tested on Hikaru and Yeseo's fat butts a couple months ago in Japan.

"OH FUCK ME, YES, FUCK ME," Chaehyun turns into a screaming machine. The pace you fuck her is unmatched by any of her previous partners. You use her with no regard for her little body; she's just there to get fucked until you cum, and you still have a long way to go.

Chaehyun is on the verge of tapping out as she rolls her eyes. You sniff her neck as you finally get fully on top of her body and trap her completely. "This is what you get for sending me those pics early this morning, you fucking slut," you tell her, your cock still buried deep in her pussy.

But truth be told, Chaehyun loves to be treated rough like that. Even after so much pounding, she lets out that beautiful, bright smile in full display for you to see, even as you continue to fuck her like an animal. "You scream so loud the entire neighborhood will call the cops on us," you tell her. "Well, let them do it," she says.

After a few deep thrusts that make Chaehyun cum again, you give her a little break, but this time, she wants none of it, with you having to demand she not ride you yet. "Suck my cock first," you tell her. Chaehyun is happy to oblige as she takes it deep in her throat and bubbles all over it. "Damn, that's really good; you've improved a lot; I guess Yujin was a really good teacher," you tell her as she gargles on your dick and slaps it against her tongue and then massages your balls before going down to lick them.

"Such a fucking whore," you tell her as she laughs with her mouth full of your balls, finding her favorite spot, savoring them to the fullest as she jerks your cock off. "Hmmm, hmmmm," Chaehyun enjoys your ballsack to the fullest as she moans with her mouth buried deep on them.

"Get on top of me," you tell Chaehyun as you slap her butt, thinking she's having too much fun with your balls and wanting to exert your control back into her. Chaehyun takes no time fully impaling herself, ready for the ride of her life. But she was in for another surprise.

As soon as Chaehyun fully sits on your dick, you stretch your arms to grope her tits and start thrusting up her pussy, giving her no time to answer, quickly crushing any hopes of Chaehyun to be a girl on top. Even though she was on top of your body, you were still fully in control, mercissely pushing up against her cunt and hitting her cervix faster than a car crashing in a high-speed oval.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes," Chaehyun quickly surrenders into moans as you pump her up. Her asshole starts to gape as your balls go so far up they hit them nonstop. Your cock is like a piston, making Chaehyun's engine combust as you thrust into her faster than ever and hit the valves in her cervix, making her scream.

Chaehyun is just a roaring moaning mess at this point, as you use your fingers to apply extra pressure on her tits while they bounce hard. "OH, YESSS," she screams as you slap her boobs once again. "OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," she says, which only makes you go even harder. Her pussy getting pumped, her tits getting slapped and groped, her neck getting choked. Chaehyun quickly starts falling down from her straightened position, right into your lap as she cums and gets increasingly clingy to you.

"Stretch that hole, use all of it," Chaehyun begs, getting out-of-breath as your cock keeps pumping her without rest. Your balls clap hard against her cheeks, and she loves it. "YESSS, YESSSS, YESSS," she screams as you choke her. You finally let her set the pace a bit as even you get a little tired of such rough and high-intensity fucking, grabbing her tits for some playing as you suck them again.

Despite all the pounding she's been taking so far, Chaehyun is restless and rides your cock quite well. I guess after a while you just get used to it, as she goes fast and hard as well, keeping the pace you had set while you enjoy her boobs like a baby.

"Let me see them bounce," you tell her, giving Chaehyun yet another slap as she straightens herself back up and gives you an amazing jiggling show to watch as she sits on your cock. But you quickly want to take control, pumping Chaehyun up again as she has to use all her forces to not fall down, making it even harder when you grab both her tits and go back to pinch their nipples.

"OH YES YES YES YES, AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHH, OH FUCK, MAKE ME CUM," Chaehyun screams as she is back to being your fucktoy. Without even pulling out, you push your body close to hers, grabbing what is still left of her ripped-up top to bring her further close to you as you keep pounding her pussy.

You stop a bit to give Chaehyun a few kisses. She may be the perfect sex toy to use, but she's also a cute, clingy, girlfriend-esque girl that you love so much. And that's why you fuck her to the best of your capabilities, because you truly love her more than anyone else. At least for that night, because truth be told, you say that to every idol you have sex with, and you fuck a lot of them.

You push Chaehyun's body sideways and start treating her as an experiment for some crazy sex positions. "Holy fuck," she says, as you do that without ever leaving her pussy. She loves the way you know how to fuck, and to be frank, you really have a thing for short girls with big tits, as you always seem to fuck them the best.

Chaehyun was more excited than ever, giving you lovely smiles as you pounded her sideways. "You're so good, you're so good, fuck, yes," she kept saying as you had your mouth fully attached to her left boob, trying to milk it dry. "Fuck me, fuck me, I'll be a good girl; do everything you say, ohhhh fuck," Chaehyun kept saying, and you loved how submissive she had turned the longer the fucking went on.

"I want to try a new position on you; turn around and lay on top of me," you tell Chaehyun, who gets excited. You knew you had to do it. When you fucked Eunbi a couple months ago, this was your favorite position, meaning you had to try it on a ripe, young titcow as well, and especially because Chaehyun had the perfect combo for it: a similar body to mother Eunbi while having the face that resembled another of your favorite fucktoys in Irene.

"Oh shit," Chaehyun says as she does it, and you immediately place your hands in her clit. She's about to learn why the pearly gates position is so heavenly, as you then move up to grope her tits. You hit her hard and deep, and within seconds she's in heaven. "Ohhhhh my Godddd," she says, lowering her head and enjoying the ride you're giving her, especially with the great massage you now give her tits. 

"Oh God, that fucking feels so fucking good," Chaehyun says, cursing twice on the same sentence. You know her cunt is throbbing and adds further stimulation with your left hand running all over her clit now, while the right hand stays on her tits. Chaehyun starts laughing, but the stimulation is so overwhelming she quickly has to stop, as you know, pump her fast and finger her clit with fury.

"AHHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Chaehyun squeals, and her voice finally cracks. Even the great vocalists succumb to the power of the pearly gates as your cock and hands all over her cunt make Chaehyun unleash her hardest orgasm yet. "OH MY GOD, YES PLEASE, YES, YES YES," she screams, grinning her teeth as her entire body shakes in orgasm. "OH, I'M CUMMING," she yells again, but her hardened nipples already can tell you.

Chaehyun enjoys her orgasm, as you can't stop fingering her clit. "My fucking legs are shaking so hard; I've never felt so good,"  she says, completely blown away by the position you just taught her. "AHHHH, I'M SO HORNY, YESSSS," she screams as her juices cover your crotch and leak out of her cunt. "Holy shit, why did no one teach me this position before?" she says.

Chaehyun could barely breathe, but you kept fucking her regardless, fingering her clit even harder as you searched for yet another orgasm. Her big tits looked better than ever right on top of you. "Oh wow, oh wow," she moaned, her saggy boobs wanting to detach from her body at any moment with how hard they bounced. "Holy fuck," she said as she came again in the same position.

You quickly pushed Chaehyun to the side of the bed, closing her legs and giving no break to her as you went back into working in her pussy. She gave you begging stares, wishing for this night to never end and for her to be forever your fucktoy. You dove your head right into her tits to do what you do best: suck them. Chaehyun was so horny that every thrust you gave her now put her on the verge of orgasming. You used her tits as your playground, one for your mouth, the other for your hands, all that while never stopping the pounding.

Chaehyun groaned as you massaged her nipples. "Fuck, yes, this is the best sex I've ever had in my life," she said, giving you another big smile that quickly got replaced by more moans. "I fucking love the way you fuck me," she said, rolling her eyes once again in pleasure.

You gave another break to Chaehyun in your high-paced fucking to worship her already sore pussy, preparing it for the final round. She loved the way you ate her wet folds, enjoying every second of it. "Oh my God, keep licking my clit like this," she said, giggling as your mouth made sounds all over her puddling cunt.

Chaehyun grabbed her tits as she closed her eyes and rested her head on the bed. You moved your mouth sideways all over her folds, getting her close again. "OH FUCK, HMMMM, YESSSS, AHHHH," she screamed again as you just finished, giving her pussy a little kiss followed by a hard slap.

Back inside it you went, with your hands instantly placed in her boobs, as you pressed them against each other, making Chaehyun laugh again. "Ohhhh fuck," Chaehyun said as you pounded her pussy like crazy for one last time, putting one of her legs all the way up in the air. "Holy shit, fuck me, yesss, ahhhh," she said.

"I'm gonna fuck you until I cum," you whispered to Chaehyun as you choked her again, giving her more kisses and then slapping her tits. "Oh, please, do it," she said. "Give me your cum," she continued as your balls slapped hard against her hips and you pinned her to the bed. "OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHH," she moaned.

"Please, yes, I want your cum. I do; I want your cum so bad; give me all of it," Chaehyun begged hard for your load. "I want all of it, please, cum for me, cum for me," she continued. The more you fucked her, the harder she wanted it.

"YES, YES, GIVE ME YOUR CUM, PLEASE, PLEASE," just as she screamed it, you granted her wish. Beggars can't be choosers, and she didn't say where she wanted it, so you just filled her pussy to the brim. Having so much to give, you managed to pull out and paint her crotch white with some extra loads. 

"Holy shit, you gave me all of it, such a big load." Chaehyun got impressed as you turned her into your cum dump, giggling as she said afterwards, "Hope this is good to get me pregnant."

"That was fun," Chaehyun said as she kissed you. "Now I need to take a shower." Wanna join?" she asked you, heading towards the bathroom. You waited a bit as Chaehyun was already turning the shower on. "Come here," she said. 

Chaehyun started to shower herself, but although most of the sex fluids were at the bottom, she was paying more attention to her tits, pouring water on them as she teased you, until a sudden tingle hit her as a thick foreign object penetrated her anus.

"Don't fool me, you want a second round, you fucking little tiger, or should I say, little titcow," you told her.

"Yes, please, destroy my ass in the shower while you make those beautiful big tits bounce," Chaehyun demanded.

At this moment, you knew you had just begun to taming the tiger. This was going to be a really long night.

"Sure," you answered her. On the next day, Chaehyun was thankful for painkillers existing because you fucked her so hard she couldn't even walk.

[bratbarzal]

Let It Happen (LH43) 1/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No school? Check.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She deserves better. 

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

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

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

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

Luke Hughes loves summer.

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

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

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

He does love living with his brother.

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

And he really is grateful for that.

But, God, can he be annoying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s nothing.”

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

“Fine, it’s Ellie.”

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

“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know her?”

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

Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,”

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

“My name’s on the lease.”

“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since when do you work here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Five minutes of your time?”

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

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

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

Who doesn’t love a shortcut?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know who you are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about ‘em?”

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

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

Us. Oh, he likes that.

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

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

“A nudge, then?”

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

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

“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”

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

“How profound.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is fun. 

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

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

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

“We could make a competition out of it.”

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

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

“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t see that happening.”

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

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

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

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

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

But God, you were pretty. 

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

“I’m Luke.”

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

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

“Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m Luke.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I know her.”

“Clearly.”

“This is her basket.”

“Does she need to sign for it?”

“No, I-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He has you figured out, by now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cole Caufield being one of them. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn. You walked yourself right into that one. 

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

“You wish.”

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

“I think you’re an idiot.”

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

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

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

“Good for her.”

“Alone.”

“No shit.”

“To ask her out.”

“Whoop-de-doo.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How could you possibly know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you find out?”

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

“Does this mean we’re teammates?” 

“No. It absolutely does not.”

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

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

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

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

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

Much better.

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

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

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

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

So it has to be for him and Jessica.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was I not supposed to?”

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

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

“Well done, you can read.”

“Why?”

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

“So?”

“He’s on a date.”

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

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

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

“To get his hair cut.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

“Any food?”

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

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

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

“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”

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

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

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

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

“Won’t he complain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In your dreams, Hughes.”

Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That would usually drive him crazy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re really keeping score?”

“You’re not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She started it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you get to that conclusion?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

A death wish might actually be an understatement.

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

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

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

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

“What, that?”

“You’re so dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not something you really love talking about. 

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

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

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

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

Interstellar. 

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

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

“Me too. I love space movies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re gonna be so shocked.”

“Sports movies?”

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

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

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

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

“Only if I get to ask one back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>PART TWO<

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

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