#but it's funny anyway to really let it sink in that I have that much stuff in my Gladiator folder

[seyaryminamoto]

An ask about how you plotted Gladiator raised a good question. How do you keep track of it all? If you write notes, how do you organize them? How many Word files do you have? Or do you use another software?

Well... I can certainly say I've never needed as much backup material to keep up with a story as I have with this one, for obvious reasons X'D

Okay, I had a simple bullet-points list at first, probably started it around the time I was writing either arc 2 or finishing arc 1? At that point, keeping track of what I wanted to happen next wasn't so hard. But I turned this into what you could call a wishlist, haha, of ideas that I wanted to implement in the future, so I dumped those ideas there. Little by little I started articulating, organizing them, and that's kind of how Part 1's structure came to be. Whatever new idea I'd get, I'd add it to the bullet points list. Once I crafted the bulk of the story's outline for the first time, it was initially written there. As of this day... that particular document, which I don't rely on as much anymore, amounts to 3K words, 8 pages worth of very rough, very basic plotting.

But then more complicated arcs started happening. Stuff I REALLY needed to work out in proper detail because I wasn't sure I would be able to just remember whatever I wanted to do. Sometimes inspiration strikes like lighting: hits once and then it's gone and you're just left ambling about, half-blind, unsure of what the hell is going on :'D so I started writing similar bullet points lists that were more detailed structure for the more difficult arcs to plot. Pairs Tournament arc, I think, was the first one to receive this treatment. Fire Lord for a Week arc in Part 2 also had to be handled this way, same as the final arc of Part 2, and the Race, particularly since that one required extra choreographing on my part to get it right. In Part 3, I did this with the Taking Omashu arc as well. There are a few more bullet-point lists about some really important things that will matter in the future... but I can't talk about those yet :'D

Now then, past this: I have the a huge Excel document where I tried to keep track of the disaster ranking of the Superior Gladiator League. As much as Part 3 has been so difficult... not having to update the ranking is so goddamn nice about it :') This document had the ranking itself, the names + locations of all Superior League Arenas, the brackets for every Pairs Tournament we saw, it's also where I kept track of the Race's points... and there's also a very poorly crafted timeline in this document where I tried (and kind of failed) to figure out how many years had passed in the story and how old each character would be :'D as you might be able to tell, this particular document is... a mess. Big mess. I do not recommend looking at it. The timeline in particular is just completely irrelevant tbh...

Because I made a NEW timeline doc that keeps track of... everything. Kind of. Mostly? :'D

The new timeline doc was necessary and I honestly should have had it around from the start, but I spent AGES putting that one off because I have no sense :'D I think I started it in Part 2, REALLY late, as in, when Wan Shi Tong was writing down what Azula would say about her family. Then, Part 3 made this doc a much bigger necessity because I REALLY needed to keep track of... the obvious :') as in, Azula's pregnancy. Real pregnancies are tracked on a weekly basis. Hence... I had to start planning, plotting and strategizing my story by keeping in mind where, exactly, we would be in terms of Azula's pregnancy, CONSTANTLY. That sure switched up things for me :'D forced me to be a lot more organized than I usually want to be because wild freedom is kinda nice sometimes... but I couldn't keep doing that anymore. So! This timeline doc starts with the birth of Fire Lord Hizuo in the year -49, and it goes all the way to the events of year... 121! :'D I broke down the story events of each year in this doc, so if you want a bit of a rundown of what we've seen so far...

Year 104: Chapters 1 and 2

Year 106: Chapter 3 to approximately chapter 46

Year 107: Chapter 47 to chapter 114 (yeeeeah a lot of things happened that year :'D

Year 108: Chapter 115 to chapter 164

Year 109: Chapter 165 to chapter 200 (note that there was a preeetty big time skip of around 6 months between Hahn's Gambit arc and The Mad Alchemist arc).

Year 110: Chapter 201 to chapter 328 (okay now THIS was an eventful year, holy shit :'D and naturally it's the one I'm posting right now...)

Year 111: Chapter 329 to... ??? Still not done with the events of that year :'D so I dunno how many chapters it's going to be!

Things really changed since I started keeping track of events by month, even by weeks. I've tried to keep doing that since, even beyond writing Azula's pregnancy. It's a little annoying to be so thorough and to panic over miscalculating dates and such, but at the same time I think I feel more secure in my own crazy story this way.

Ah, and there we go. That's Gladiator's plotting documents, every single one of...

...

...

...

Yeah okay, that's not true.

Look. Sometimes you REALLY need to be thorough. Some things require WAY too much finesse. Sometimes you're telling two stories simultaneously. Sometimes you're telling THREE. Sometimes it's even MORE than that because you have flashbacks and multiple POVs of events in a battlefield. Sometimes you have to write huge battles between armies and you need to keep track of wtf you're doing. Sometimes you have to articulate events to make sure they match each other timeline-wise!

... At those times, you make a big document with a huge table, split in three columns.

Column 1 is the arc's name. Column 2 is Sokka's side of the story. Column 3 is Azula's side of the story.

... And sometimes that document ends up becoming as long as 122 pages.

Yeah, uh, the document carrying the highly sensitive plans, detailing every single arc of Part 3 and how they work, how they connect, how long they'll be, what will happen in each of them (as well as which elements happened in which chapter, some of which ends up getting switched up, back and forth, depending on whether my writing lined up with the reality of my plotting or not...) is genuinely, uh... 122 pages long. 45K words. By my standards, that's about the length of 3 Gladiator chapters :'D

I had to be really thorough in that document. I was lost in regards of how I'd handle Part 3 for some time. Even if I had some ideas for it already, Sokka's side of the story used to be muuuuch clearer than Azula's. Once Rei showed up, plotting for Azula's side became soooo much easier to do... but the point is, Part 3 has been the most challenging aspect of plotting this story by far. I'm flexible enough with my plans, some things don't work or would work better at other times, and I simply adapt to it. But this document was 100% necessary to make sure I wouldn't get lost in the chaos of Part 3... so there it is :'D

Additional to this: I keep a version of Bill Mudron's ATLA map on direct access for easy reference whenever I want to make sure I'm not committing geographical crimes by making characters travel too fast, or to places that aren't even close to each other :'D it has been a huge element in my plotting and ensured I don't ATLA finale ANYTHING in the story since its earliest days. I also had to acquire a strange little resource, an educational app about space that features a projection/simulation of timezones! And that's how I've been keeping track of whether it's daytime or nighttime in Sokka or Azula's story, particularly useful whenever they connect to each other spiritually since it's very often nighttime for one and daytime for the other and these events should be happening simultaneously :'D

Oof, well. That's all I can think of atm to answer this question. There are always a lot of references you need as a writer, lots of places to keep track of your research, of your worldbuilding... it's chaotic but once you find a method to your madness, it can be fun, even! :D it still blows me away a little that my big full plotting document is 122 pages long, but it's been an undeniably useful asset all across these years.

So, in total, counting only my documents... I have about 10 different Word documents, 1 Excel spreadsheet with multiple sheets, probably around 8 different ones, 1 map, 1 cosmos education app. Making it around 13 resources to keep track of what I'm doing in this huge chaotic story :'D

... 11, come to think of it. I have one hilarious document that's basically me arguing with myself over some big plot changes I did to Part 3 as a whole when I started writing the first spiritual connection and it became EXTREMELY obvious that Azula wasn't letting Sokka go without telling him she was pregnant :'D yep, that wasn't part of the OG plan because I, as usual, underestimated my girl. By the time I got there she was like "I'm going to do it and you can't stop me with your PLOT" and I had to go back to the drawing board for a LOT of rearranging the plot, to figure out how it would work, what to do with it... document is literally called "BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE.doc" simply because I was terrified that change would alter the plotted story way more than I could handle. After my bickering with myself in that doc, it all started making a little more sense :'D

Alright, I think that's that XD

[fastandcarlos]

100% Whipped : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: lando is happy to do just about anything for you, which the other drivers are more than happy to remind lando about too

Lando looked around in confusion as sniggers came from around the room, his fellow drivers all looked at him in disbelief, many shaking their heads as he spoke once again. 

“There are other things we can talk about,” Max told him, smirking across at Lando opposite him. “We don’t constantly just have to talk about your girlfriend you know.” 

Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion as several others nodded in agreement with Max. It was a habit of his, and one he didn’t realise he had either, but the rest of the boys were all too aware of just how much Lando loved to talk about you, to anyone who listened. 

They couldn’t help but smile at how fondly Lando spoke of you, the way his smile turned up and his eyes got brighter whenever the conversation was about you. As much as they loved knowing that Lando was happy, they didn’t need telling quite as much as they currently were. 

“I don’t just talk about her,” Lando argued, but as the others rolled their eyes, Lando wasn’t quite so confident that he didn’t talk about you as much as they all suggested. 

Although he would never admit just how much he adored you, Lando knew that he had been falling hard for you. He loved to gush about you and make sure that everyone else got to see what he saw in you, how kind, caring and funny you were. 

The rest of the paddock knew that anyway, but Lando liked to make extra sure that was the case with all of his stories about you. 

“Every time she’s not at a race you sit and complain that she’s not there and how much you need her,” Oscar spoke up, “she’s all we talk about on a race weekend.” 

“Or when she is there, you refuse to let her out of your sight because you want to make sure that she’s alright,” George added, smirking across at Lando, “you don’t let her lift a finger.” 

More and more stories came out as the boys all interjected with the moments that they’d experienced with Lando, seeing firsthand just how in love with you he was. 

“I’m just being a good boyfriend,” Lando tried to argue once they eventually fell silent, but even Lando was beginning to realise that he went above and beyond, constantly. 

“I think you know how she’s going to spend her day better than she does,” Daniel responded, unable to hold back his laughter. “You used to tell me every day exactly what she was up to, almost as if you knew where she was minute by minute.” 

“Really?” Lando asked in surprise, not realising quite how much attention to detail he paid when it came to what you were doing. 

“You don’t even realise that you’re doing it half the time.” 

Lando’s stature shrunk, sinking down in his seat. “I promise that I’m not as whipped as you guys all probably think I am, it’s not that bad.” 

“You are,” Carlos stated, sending Lando a knowing look, “but I guess most of the time it is quite sweet.” 

“Aside from the fact that you make the rest of us look like terrible boyfriends,” Charles added. 

Lando struggled to hold back his smile, although it wasn’t a competition, he knew that the two of you were a popular couple around the paddock. He felt like he was the standard, showing the others how to take care of your girlfriend properly and not care about what anyone else had to say about it. 

“I wonder if she realises how whipped you are for her or whether she’s just used to it all by now,” Oscar spoke up, looking pensively across at Lando. 

“I think Y/N is just as whipped for him as Lando is for her,” Daniel very quickly argued, “you should’ve heard some of the conversations we had about him when I was on the team.” 

A smile emerged on Lando’s face as some of the boys nodded in agreement again. They were used to listening to you talk about Lando just as much, talking through how amazing his races were time after time as if they hadn’t been there to experience it themselves. 

“Would you guys like me to stop talking about Y/N so much?” Lando asked them all. 

The group felt quite guilty as Lando stared seriously across at them all. They all knew that he meant it, glancing between themselves as their heads all shook back across at him. 

“We’re only messing with you buddy,” George assured him, tapping against his shoulders, “maybe we just don’t need to know every single last detail about her.” 

Lando nodded, smiling back across at George. “I’m sure I can tone it down a little bit, the last thing I need is you guys all thinking that I’m whipped.” 

“Mate, we all definitely know that you are though.” 

He could try to deny it all he wanted, but the boys all knew what he was like. It was something in him that they were never going to change, but as such a popular member of the team, it meant a lot to all of them to see how happy he was with you. 

“Don’t even try and deny it,” Max called out as Lando went to speak again, “wear it with pride, some people would kill to have the sort of relationship that the two of you have.” 

“Do you really think that?” 

“Of course,” Max smiled back across at him, “you know we’re always going to find something to tease you about, you’re still very much the baby of the grid to all of us.” 

It didn’t matter how old Lando was, the boys were all very protective of him, and as much as they took every chance to make fun of him, they’d never let anyone else say a bad word about him. 

“You just continue to do you,” Carlos smiled as he met Lando’s eyes, “some of these guys are never going to even get a girlfriend, so at least you’ve got that over them at least.” 

“None of you can ever mention this to her,” Lando told them all, “do you know how embarrassed she be knowing that you guys see us as whipped for one another.” 

Just like Lando, you were very aware of how whipped he was for you, but if anyone suggested that you were whipped for him, then you would categorically deny it. You knew how much he’d do for you though, savouring the feeling of Lando willingly doing absolutely anything to support you. 

“We’ll keep it between us,” Oscar promised him, “unless she keeps stealing the chocolate I keep in the garage for once the races are finished. If that carries on, I’m making no promises.” 

“I’ll buy you more,” Lando assured him, “just don’t tell her how whipped I am, or how whipped you guys seem to think that I might be.” 

“Just admit it,” Charles laughed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Admit that you’re whipped for her, it’s not like we don’t already know it already.” 

“Will you leave me alone if I say it?” Lando asked them all. 

“We promise to leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

“Fine, I am 100% whipped for my girlfriend.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[wordsarelife]

—endgame

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo is absolutely in love with you, but now it seems like he spent a bit too long not telling you that

warnings: cursing, suggestive language

notes: guys this was not supposed to be posted lmaooo!! but i‘ll just leave it here, now that it’s too late anyway 😭

the slytherin boys were lazily slumped over the couches in the common room, casually chattering as the fire burned in front of them.

"and then she asked me to show her how to fly sometime" enzo shrugged as he finished his explanation "i mean she was there when we learned that in first year, so i'm not sure why i would have to show her"

"you oblivious little idiot" blaise slapped a pillow against enzo's head, who let out a whimper at the sudden hit.

"she was flirting with you" draco exclaimed with a roll of his eyes and without even looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

"oh" enzo said dumbfounded.

"she knows that you're crazy about quidditch" theo added.

"yeah" mattheo agreed "she probably wanted to flatter you, telling you how good you are at flying and you didn't even understand that"

"oh" enzo mumbled once again and the regret in his voice made his friends perk up.

draco let the newspaper rest in his lap. "what did you answer?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"the exact same thing i just told you guys" enzo admitted shamefully, which was accompanied by blaise and mattheo loudly groaning.

"you really are an oblivious idiot" draco shook his head in a disappointed manner, before going back to his newspaper.

before enzo could say anything else to defend himself, there were giggles coming from the stairs. blaise and mattheo looked behind the couch simultaneously.

"speaking of oblivious" blaise snorted, before he earned himself a slap from mattheo and a simple hand gesture that told him to get off the couch and find another place to plant his arse.

blaise was barely on his feet, emptying the spot next to mattheo, when pansy and you stepped into the common room.

"hey guys" pansy greeted before she let herself fall in between draco and enzo, half onto draco's lap, which the former only grunted at.

you smiled your usual smile, waving at you friends, before you walked around the couch on which mattheo was sitting. you held up the book you were carrying to him and mattheo immediately got into position.

he turned his body, so that his legs were now resting on the couch before him. he opened them up so you could slip between them, laying your head onto his tummy, as you opened your book and got comfortable.

mattheo softly started moving his fingers through your hair. theo, on the armchair on the left of both of you, raised his eyebrows. even draco lowered his newspaper for a second, to inspect your cuddly position.

"so, y/n" theo said "why don't you tell us something about your date with that seventh year ravenclaw?"

now it was mattheo's turn to furrow his brows. theo looked perfectly innocent, but mattheo recognized a hint of mischief in his blue eyes. blaise giggled into his fist like he had just witnissed the biggest burn and enzo looked between both theo and mattheo, wondering if the former was even allowed to ask such a question.

"oh" you smiled awkwardly, as you let your book sink onto your chest. "you mean leslie?"

theo nodded and watched mattheo's expression closely, who's face was full of disdain.

"go on" pansy smiled "you can tell them" she started giggling and you joined her laughter.

it was like a switch had been flipped as both you and pansy recalled the day a week before. you did not leave out one detail, from how the boy had asked you out to how the actual date went.

mattheo was not happy to hear what you had to say (or how pansy couldn't stop mentioning how handsome and attractive leslie was), but he had to admit that it was kind of funny to see theo's face fall more from minute to minute and how much regret was evident on it when you ended the story after half an hour.

it seemed like the only person who enjoyed listening was enzo, who spend most of his time asking about certain things you had said and if you had meant them in a flirting or normal way. mattheo had to admit to himself that it was probably his and the rest of the boys' fault that enzo outstretched the story with his unnecessary questions. it seemed like he wanted to make sure that nothing what happened the day before would repeat itself.

"was that everything you wanted to know?" you asked theo, admittedly a bit amused, as you noticed the panicked look on his face and the quick nod he was giving you.

"why didn't you tell me you had a date?" mattheo asked you and you almost broke your neck as you tried to look at him without sitting up.

"sorry, i didn't think it was that important" you shrugged "and i never thought that you wanted to hear anything about it, but now that i know that you guys are interested in that kind of conversation, we can speak about stuff like that more often"

it was only after pansy and you had excused yourself to go to bed, that there was a debrief happening in mattheo's and theo's room.

mattheo was walking from side to side, as the earlier events replayed themselves in his head.

"pansy and y/n are yappers" blaise noted matter of factly "and now you've actually gotten them to yap even more"

"thank you, theo" draco added sarcastically, while theo just shrugged his shoulders.

"i didn't know it would spiral into that" he excused "i was just trying to get someone to get off of his arse and talk to a certain someone, considering something between the two of them"

"it doesn't help anyone if you're talking in riddles" enzo rolled his eyes, before he got ellbowed by blaise, who pointed at the still walking mattheo. "oh" enzo nodded "you're talking about mattheo and—"

"what kind of name is leslie anyway?" mattheo cried, succesfully shutting enzo up.

"i mean have you seen the guy?" blaise laughed "his name should be the least of your concerns"

"thank you, blaise" mattheo nodded, spotting a sarcastic smile "very helpful actually"

"listen, mate" theo said and all eyes turned to him "i'm not saying you should just be happy about what's happened, but it's a bit your own fault"

"my own fault?" mattheo repeated stunned.

"he's not wrong" draco shrugged "if you had the balls to go and speak to y/n, we wouldn't even be talking about a guy who obviously has a girl's name"

"i mean i get alex, but what is unisex about leslie?" enzo looked between his friends, who all shrugged.

"can we stop mentioning his fucking name, please" mattheo threw up his hands helplessly.

"well, would you rather like to talk about his huge—"

"blaise!" both mattheo and theo called loudly.

blaise raised his arms, spotting a face of innocence "geez, chill i was talking about his arms. i mean the guy is jacked"

"yeah, we get the picture" mattheo rolled his eyes, before he changed the tone of his voice, trying to imitate pansy and you from earlier "he's so good looking and funny and—"

"he's read almost every book y/n has" enzo added and all of the boys looked at him.

"whose side are you on?" theo asked tiredly, rubbing his face and realizing in that second that he was not going to sleep any time soon.

"sorry, pansy's words, not mine"

"okay, well" mattheo exclaimed, his anger subsiding momentarily "what if i'm not that handsome or well-read? i always listen to her talk about her latest book, and i don't just act like i want to hear it, i really do and i could be such a better boyfriend than this lola guy"

"leslie" blaise corrected and immediately received a dirty look from mattheo.

"look, mate" draco interrupted the staring contest between blaise and mattheo. "whatever it is that has been going on between you and y/n, we've all had the pleasure to observe it this past few years. so i'm sure we're all are at a point now where we are just fucking tired. i'm begging you, just do something about this please" draco was more emotional than he had been in years and all his friends were surprised at the sudden concern for mattheo's and y/n's love life "for the love of god, i cannot bear to try and extend any friendly behaviour further than this group, so it would be kind of unfortunate for y/n's boyfriend if he isn't already part of it"

"well, aren't you just a ball of sunshine?" theo rolled his eyes.

"it's not easy being nice to all of you" draco send a side-eye in enzo's direction "even harder with certain people"

"hey!" enzo losely protested.

"i don't really care who she dates at this point" draco added "hell, let's give her blaise, at least he's not too restrained to actually do something"

"i'm not restrained" mattheo said with distain evident in his voice.

blaise smiled smugly, completely ignoring his friend. "i would show y/n a good time"

"what the fuck?!" mattheo turned to blaise with a look of betrayal "i'd rather have lucy--"

"leslie"

"--have her before you do" mattheo finished.

"this is really not the point now is it?" enzo asked, with a helpless look in theo's direction.

"enzo's right, as weird as that sounds" theo nodded "you have to do something and you have to do it fast, before she's losing the least bit of liking she seemingly has for you"

"i really have to thank you guys for your deep and honest trust in me and my abilities"

"well you've practically spend the last six years simping for her, so excuse us if we're not quite seeing the end of that yet" draco snorted.

"yeah, fine, whatever" mattheo rolled his eyes "even though all of you were wrong in many things, you're right about y/n, i'll tell her first thing tomorrow"

"tell her what exactly?"

"ehh, that i'm in love with her" mattheo said as if it was obvious.

"a bit rushed isn't it?" enzo asked, exchanging a look with draco, who seemed just as critical.

"what?" mattheo asked helplessly "wasn't that what you all wanted? i mean lilly certainly didn't waste any time"

"leslie" blaise corrected once again "asked her out on a date first. maybe you could really learn something from him. i hear he's quite smart"

"are you gay?" draco suddenly asked and enzo snorted.

"i'm a realist" blaise answered "i like to scout out the competition, see what they've got on me"

"okay, sure, then i'll ask her on a date and tell her that i love her then. is that alright with you?"

"you should at least wait two to three months" draco advised.

"maybe four" enzo added.

"oh, heaven, i'm going to sleep" theo turned around and climbed into his bed.

the next morning, the slytherin boys were sitting in their usual spots at the slytherin table. there had been no sighting of either pansy or you yet, so mattheo had decided to ask you on a date during breakfast.

"what do you think is taking them so long?" he asked draco, while keeping a close eye to the entryway of the great hall.

draco, who was only a second away from answering, was quickly interrupted, when he got nudged by theo, who pointed at something - or rather someone - at the ravenclaw table.

"what?" mattheo turned his head, after draco had not answered and his friends seemed to have noticed something.

"they're already here" draco said softly, before both of his hands, landed on mattheo's shoulders, turning the boy's body in the right direction.

mattheo's eyes found you quickly. you were sitting next to an unfamiliar boy, pansy across from the both of you. you were engaged in a seemingly friendly conversation, throwing your head back laughing from time to time.

"lydia" mattheo said between clenched teeth his voice close to a growl.

"leslie" blaise corrected, matching the sound and tone of mattheo's voice.

mattheo stood up abruptly and all eyes followed him. "i'm gonna do something about this" he declared, before he started walking into the direction of the ravenclaw table.

"i think he could need some backup" blaise shrugged his shoulders, running after the boy, before one of the others could protest.

"hey" mattheo greeted when he arrived at the table. pansy furrowed her brows, but you smiled when your eyes fell on him, not noticing the angry tone in his voice.

"hey" leslie smiled. "mattheo, is it?"

"sure" mattheo sat down on the bench next to pansy without so much as another word.

"so, luna" mattheo began.

"ehh, my name is leslie actually" the older boy corrected.

"whatever" mattheo rolled his eyes "nobody cares about that"

"i do" blaise quickly corrected, coming to a halt behind mattheo and outstretching his hand in leslie's direction "blaise zabini, big fan. what kind of book would you recommend to get girls?"

"i'm not sure i understand that question" leslie looked to you in confusion, but you just shook your head. "but, uh many girls like pride and prejudice by jane austen"

"ignore him" mattheo advised "you seem like you have everything in order, so i think it's the right time to ask what your intentions with y/n are"

"excuse me?" leslie asked stunned, while pansy snorted loudly. blaise nodded approvingly and you had your mouth and eyes wide open, not believing what you had just heard.

"well, young man" mattheo patted leslie's shoulder "we've all been your age once, so i don't think the question is too farfetched"

"i'm actually older than you" the ravenclaw looked to you helpingly "sorry, is he your brother or something?"

various different answers of no echoed around the table, followed by disgusted noises as pansy, mattheo, blaise and you answered the question at the same time.

"then why are you even asking that question?"

"well, lane" mattheo started, before he quickly added (successfully preventing someone to correct him) "y/n doesn't have a brother and her father is not here right now, so someone has to look out for her, right?"

"pretty sexist" pansy remarked "these aren't the 1800's, riddle"

mattheo shot pansy a quick glare before refocusing on leslie, determined to make his point. "look, i'm just trying to make sure you're treating her right," he stated, with an edge of jealousy in his voice.

leslie glanced at you, clearly bewildered. "i promise, y/n and i are just friends. we were talking about our shared interest in ancient runes."

"sure, just friends" blaise mumbled so only mattheo could hear.

"shared interest, huh?" mattheo leaned back, trying to appear nonchalant but failing miserably. "is that what you call it these days?"

you couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. "mattheo, relax. leslie's just being friendly."

blaise, sensing the awkward tension, decided to stir the pot a bit more. "yeah, mattheo, maybe you should take some lessons from leslie on how to charm a girl with ancient runes. it's clearly working."

mattheo shot blaise a look that could melt steel. "blaise, could you stop being helpful for once?"

blaise, feigning innocence, raised his arms.

mattheo, deciding he had seen enough, concluded it was time to pull out the big guns. "so have you kissed yet? because i have done that. kissed y/n i mean, not kissed someone in general"

"matty!" you scolded, feeling embarassed by his behaviour.

"no, we haven't actually" leslie shook his head, uncomfortably looking between the people around him.

"well, we've done a lot of things" mattheo continued, easily slipping back into the familiar cockiness he normally wore with pride, even if you had hit his leg under the table more than a few times already. "you should ask her about her first time" he muttered, winking at the older boy.

pansy, who had been drinking, accidentally spit some of her pumpkin juice on her plate and blaise's mouth was wide open.

"mattheo" you shrieked, quickly stubbling onto your feet "could i talk to you for a second? alone"

"whatever you want, love" mattheo winked at leslie once again, before he followed you out of the hall.

"so about ancient runes"

outside of the great hall, mattheo was standing across from you, head down, while you were ripping him a new one.

"what has gotten into you, matty?" you asked when you had finished screaming at him.

"i'm sorry" mattheo said truthfully "i had this great plan of asking you out this morning, but seeing you with him made me so jealous and realize that it's probably too late anyway, but it's my own fault."

"what are you even talking about?" you asked confused.

"i mean you're obviously going on a second date, right?" mattheo asked "you very clearly said how charming and handsome and smart he was"

"that's true, he is all of those things"

"cool" mattheo nodded and you swore you could see a hint of sadness in his eyes "i'm happy for you then"

"yeah seems like it" you giggled, before you shook your head "well, matty you knows, leslie is amazing--"

"i've never heard anyone been complimented so much than i have heard him in the last twenty hours"

"let me finish" you smiled "he's really great, but i'm not interested in him like that"

"you're not?"

you shook your head "i think we could become good friends, but nothing more"

"but why were you sitting with him then?"

"well, he had a book he wanted to lend me" you shrugged "and i was actually on my way back to our table when you interrupted"

"oh"

"yeah, oh" you smiled "if i had known you would take all of this so harshly, i would've told you about me telling leslie i'm not interested yesterday"

"okay, that's embarrassing" mattheo admitted "i should've spoken to you in private, before i made such a scene"

"yeah, you should have" you nodded. "so, are you going to ask me out?"

mattheo grinned at you, before he grabbed your hip, pulling you closer with one fast gesture, connecting your lips.

you pulled him close by the hem of his shirt. your fingers curling into the fabric as you deepened the kiss. his hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, pressing you firmly against him. The world around you seemed to blur, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against yours.

his other hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. the kiss was both passionate and tender, a perfect blend of his usual confidence and a softer side he reserved just for you. you could feel the intensity of his feelings, the months—years, even—of pent-up emotions pouring out in this single, breathtaking moment.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel his racing too. it was as if all the teasing, all the uncertainty, had culminated in this moment. his lips were soft yet demanding, and you responded eagerly, your fingers now moving to tangle in his hair.

you both were breathless when you broke the kiss, heavy breathing quickly turning into laughing about how both of you had acted like idiots.

"we should get pansy and blaise and return to the others, right?" you asked and mattheo nodded eagerly.

"but you'll go out with me, yeah?"

"i think we're already past that" you joked, hinting at the years of longing gazes and physical affection between the both of you. "but sure"

you walked back into the hall holding hands, while blaise and pansy were already waiting for you.

"what happened to layla?" mattheo asked, trying to catch sight of the boy on the ravenclaw table.

"leslie—"

"—left, after blaise had gone a bit too far, asking for flirting advice"

"oh god" you hid your face in your hand "i can take you guys nowhere"

"well, you've got enough friends already, haven't you?" mattheo nudged your shoulder, as pansy's eyes fell on your connected hands.

"took you long enough" she smiled, before all of you walked into the direction of the slytherin table.

as you approached, the group noticed your intertwined hands. draco, theo, and enzo exchanged knowing glances.

"finally," theo remarked, leaning back in his seat. "i was starting to think you'd never figure it out“

draco smirked, lowering his newspaper. "i suppose this means i don’t have to pretend to be friendly to more people than absolutely necessary now"

"i think we're all just relieved we don’t have to hear more about leslie and his 'charms'" enzo grinned.

"speaking of which," draco said, looking at you and mattheo, "how did that go?"

"oh, you know“ you replied with a smirk "mattheo decided to mark his territory in the most subtle way possible“

"well, at least he's more direct than other people" theo almost giggled "i just have to imagine enzo recalling and telling holly anything he could remember from our flying classes"

"i'm sorry that i genuinely thought she wanted to know that"

"when these two can get it together, you'll get there too some day" pansy nudged enzo's shoulder and the boy send her a grateful smile.

"who needs enemies when you have friends like this" mattheo laughed with a roll of his eyes.

blaise chuckled, leaning back in his chair. " hey, at least we keep each other entertained"

enzo grinned, shooting a playful glare at blaise. "yeah, and who else would i have to embarrass myself in front of if not for you lot?"

draco raised an eyebrow at that "well, enzo, it's a good thing you have us to keep you humble“

theo nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "exactly. otherwise, you might start thinking you're actually good at flying"

"now this is just unfair, you're telling me she was not only flirting, but lying too?" enzo exclaimed frustrated.

"you can't always have everything" blaise shrugged, taking a look at the vacant spot leslie had left at the ravenclaw table "at least that way there are still girls left for the rest of us"

"you do realize that y/n is not really left anymore, right?" theo ellbowed the other boy.

"well, y/n" blaise smirked "i'm sure mattheo has never even seen a copy of jane austens pride and prejudice, but guess who read it, you're right this lovely—"

"oh hell no" mattheo quickly shook his head, as he clasped a hand over blaise's mouth. "don't you even start, bethany"

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x Lupin!fem!reader

Summary: You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: Regulus Black x reader mentioned, swearing, insecurities, unrequited love? James is oblivious, he's kind of an asshole, jealousy, idiots in love basically

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

During the six years you've known him James Potter was never mean to you.

He'd always been the sweetest out of your brother's friends, and as kids you looked up to him. However, it wasn't until you turned sixteen that it became obvious you didn't see him as another brother. Instead, your admiration turned into the most obnoxious, heart-wrenching, crush. 

When, after a year of pining, you came to the conclusion that James would never like you in the way you liked him, you reluctantly allowed your crush to fizzle away.

"He's just so cute," Your smile hurts your cheeks as you lay on the ground and point out the little notes your newest crush had written in your potions book. 

"Oh, and look at this," You sit up and lean in to proudly show your friends your wrist, where a messy little heart is drawn. "Isn't Reggy just the cutest?" You must sound repetitive by now but your friends still listen with enthusiasm, "I think he likes me," You whisper.

You don't pay attention when James, Sirius, and a few other Gryffindor Quidditch players walk into the Common Room until, with exhausted humphs, Sirius and James let themselves slump dramatically onto the couch behind you and Sirius nudges his foot into your ribs, "Hey, little Lupin," He teases.

You hum and nonchalantly turn to look at him, accidentally catching James's eye. Jame's arm leans across the cushions as he tilts his head a moment and his lips curl up. His tongue cheekily pokes at his cheek as they turn pinker.

"Heard'ya have a crush on my little brother," Hearing his friend, James's smirk disappears as he tears his eyes away from yours, "He mentioned you yesterday." Sirius continues. 

Quickly, you jump up and happily skip over to where Sirius and James sit. Your friends watch you in amusement as you mutter, "Excuse me," and wiggle in between the boys.

James moves his arm and sits up, clearing his throat. He runs a hand in his hair as he pretends not to listen in on your conversation.

"What did he say?" You ask.

James's jaw tightens as your scent surrounds him. He is never sure if it's your perfume or your shampoo but you smell like vanilla (with just a hint of strawberry) and his heart thumps. Absentmindedly, his hand twitches around his knee. 

"Said he wants to know you better," Sirius side-eyes you, "Wanted my advice on how to talk to you. You wanna know what my advice is, Lupin?" Sirius leans his elbow on his knees and his chin in his palm as he looks at you directly.

You nod, your entire body now turned away from James and facing Sirius, "Stay away from Regulus. He's trouble. I don't know what you see in him anyways." Your face falls.

"What do you mean? He's actually kind, and he's funny, and he has really gorgeous eyes." You insist a little loudly, "I like him. He makes my heart flutter as if it contained a million butterflies — " You admit.

You've have always had a tendency to dramatize your crushes. 

You hear James shift and he mutters something under his breath. Turning to him, your cheeks warm as you don't think you heard him clearly, "Sorry?"

"I - can't you just shut up about Regulus for one goddamn second? Because, frankly, I don't think anyone in this room actually cares what he does to your heart or how good he makes you feel," James's voice is tense and he looks at you with a completely blank expression.

Your eyes bounce frantically from feature to feature. From his crimson cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, and a small, developing, bruise (most likely from Quidditch) hidden under his chin. You feel nauseous as his words sink in. 

You look around the room. Your friends all look surprised by James's comment and a few of the Quidditch players still in the Common Room whisper among themselves as they occasionally glance your way. Sirius turns to his best friend, his smile has disappeared but he doesn't speak. You wonder if he's as lost for words as you are.

At that moment, your brother walks into the room, three or four books tucked under his arm, and he looks at you and his friends from behind his reading glasses. He sees your lip tremble as your hands shake over your lap and you refuse to look away from James. Remus frowns, "Y/n, what's wrong?" He asks, cutting into the tension.

"You're a jerk, James." Your voice quivers and you stand. Without another word, you run up the stairs to your dorm and, as quickly as possible, your friends scramble to follow you.

"Why'd you say that?" Sirius asks in shock, raising his eyebrow in question at his best friend. James barely feels like he's in his body anymore and he blinks. Why did he say that to you? He looks at Remus and his heart sinks as a pit forms in his stomach. He's so screwed.

"What the bloody fuck did you say to my sister, Potter?" Remus curses.

Remus never curses. 

* * * 

James hasn't spoken with you in almost three weeks. Which means he hasn't had the chance to tell you he's sorry.

He's not that stupid, he knows you've been ignoring him and he can't exactly blame you. As you'd said, he'd been a jerk and he feels goddamn awful about it.

Ironically, what is making this entire situation so much worse is instead of hanging out with your friends — with him — you've been hanging out with Regulus. 

James sees you study with him in the library. He sees you eat together in the dining hall, and walk to Quidditch games, hands almost brushing. His Quidditch games. Where he can't concentrate because all he can think about is the way another boy is making you laugh as he whispers, whatever it is that is so urgent he needs to press his lips to your skin, into your ear. 

"What the hell was that out there?!" Sirius sounds annoyed as he hits James in the chest with his damp towel on their way out of the showers and into the changing room, "Where was your head, because it certainly wasn't in the game, mate!" 

James looks away as he dries his hair with his towel, "I know, I know. I don't know what's wrong with me lately." He slumps onto the bench and resists the urge to scream into his hands. 

"It's his little girlfriend. Our captain here s'just upset because she's been spending all her time with your little bro instead of with him — like she usually does." Andy, one of the beaters, snorts from behind James and quickly, James spins around and throws his towel at him in. He sends Andy a dark look, to which Andy shrugs his shoulders.  

"Y/n?" Sirius frowns, he points at James and then gestures his arms wildly, "Our Y/n? As in Remus's sister, Y/n?" James cheeks flame in embarrassment and Sirius's eyes widen, "Oh my, you're so jealous." He says with a smirks

"I am not jealous, Padfoot. I just — seeing her with him while she smiles like that annoys me a lot." James tries to defend himself, "I don't know why it bothers me so much but it does. It really does and I- it's just that she was never with other guys usually and I – " He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut as he groans, "I'm just describing my jealousy, aren't I?"

His teammates laugh and Sirius crosses his arms, "Yup." He tilts his head and pops his 'p', "So, how long have ya had a thing for our little Lupin, Prongs?" 

James gives in and leans forwards to cover his face with his hands, "I don't know, Pads. I didn't even know I had a thing for her until three seconds ago." He opens his fingers and peeks at his friend, "And what am I supposed to do now? She's completely in love with your brother and she's Moony's sister."

Sirius rolls his eyes, "Oh please, she isn't in love with my brother."

James drops his arms onto his lap and looks at Sirius with confusion, "How would you know? She seems pretty in love with this to me."

"James, do you really not known that she's had a crush on you for almost a year? Everyone knows, even Remus." 

James's eyes widened, "Wait, what? Since when – I - why didn't anyone tell me?"

"She made it very obvious. It's not our fault you're a knucklehead when it comes to women." Sirius chuckles and throws his towel over his shoulder. James stares blankly in front of him as all kinds of emotions wash over him.

You had a crush on him?

"Yeah, w-well she doesn't like me anymore," James concludes as he stands up and slips on his jeans, "I was a dick, she must hate me now." He clumsily buttons his chemise.

"Y/n could never hate you." Sirius chuckles, "Just go talk to her, you idiot."

James stares at his friend for a moment, debating his options, but then nods. As soon as he walks out of the changing room, he's determined to make this all okay again.

However, when he enters the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later and sees you and Regulus sitting on the ground around a game of wizards chess, his heart sinks.

His eyes automatically find the board. You're losing.

James can't help but remember all the times you've beaten him and the way your cheek had risen in excitement and smile lines had illuminated your features. He doesn't understand why Regulus would want to miss that smile. 

James would kill to see you smile like that again.

You glance up at the sound of the door just as Regulus turns around. James stands in the doorway, his skin pales and his knuckles flex as his eyes vibrate. They're locked onto yours. Instantly, you're on your feet, "James!" You exclaim, eyes shifting from him and then Regulus. Regulus, whose expression is blank.

"Sorry," James mutters weakly. He realizes her doesn't have it in him to be jealous anymore. Not now that he knows why he's jealous. Who is he to stand in the way of your happiness? And if you're happy with Regulus, then he's happy for you.

He walks by you without a word and you turn around to watch him leave. However, your chest tightens when he pauses and it looks like he's debating something. You sense Regulus stand, "You know what? No." James suddenly blurts out and then turns around. You look at him like he's insane.

"I can't let you do this," He continues breathlessly. 

"I think your friend has gone completely bonkers." Regulus leans in to whisper in your ear with a smirk but James interrupts him,

"This really doesn't concern you." James doesn't waste any time on him as he looks at you again, "Y/n, you should be with me, not him." 

"Excuse me?" You frown and then look at Regulus as if to make sure he'd also heard James correctly. Regulus's smirk just widens as he crosses his arms.

Your embarrassment becomes worse when the common room door opens and Sirius, Peter, and your brother walk in. Their amused chatter turns into hushed whispers until they become silent as they watch the scene in front of them.

James's head whips around and you assume he'll stop whatever he thinks this is, but instead he just continues to ramble, "Hi!" His voice is hurried and loud. Sirius frowns. "You guys can stay. You should hear this too, Moony."

James turns to you again, "I like you."

You blink at him and look around the room, worried that you're losing your mind. Your brother has his cheeks flushed and he narrows his eyes at his friend. However, his eyes move to you and they soften when he sees your expression, "Y/n," Remus whispers.

"You like me? Is this one of your sick jokes?" You're unamused. James shakes his head adamantly but you continue in one breath, "I've liked you for months and months and it's only now, when you probably think I like someone else, you decide you like me? That's unfair, James" You sound stern. 

"That's really fucking unfair," You whisper and push past him. James turns to you and calls your name as you disappear up the stairs to the dorms. It feels all too familiar when it sinks in that he messed things up. Again.

 "You're such an idiot," Sirius groans as he drops his head on Remus's shoulder dramatically. 

* * * 

You throw yourself onto your bed with a bounce and scoop your pillow into your arms, screaming into it. Why does James have to be so goddamn infuriating all the damn time? He's always been oblivious to you until now — just when you've been trying your hardest to move on.   

You hear a knock on your door and you grumble in response. One of your roommates walks into the room, "Remus is waiting by the stairs. Says he wants to talk to you." She says as she throws her book-bag onto the ground. You sit up, running a hand all over your face with an annoyed groan.

Reluctantly, you make your way downstairs. Your hand slides down the railing until you pause and see your brother at the end of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" You raise your brow and mimic his posture with a small smile. 

James and Sirius aren't with him. "Come here," Remus demands calmly. 

You look away and bite your lip. Still, you jump down the last pair of stairs until you're directly in front of your older brother, "Y'know, I don't know why you're pissed at me. I wasn't the one who — " Remus suddenly flicks your forehead which shuts you up.

"Do you like James?" He stares at you.

You stare back, your heart pounding. You don't know what to answer him. "I- I don't know." 

"Well, you better know because he's having an existential crisis in the dorm right now and to be honest, Y/n, I'm so sick of pretending I don't know you've been head over heels in love with him for what feels like years." Your brother always sounds serious, but this time it scares you a little. Your arms drop to your side.

"Would you let me date James if I liked him?" You ask cautiously. 

"I couldn't exactly stop you," Remus shrugs and looks away a moment, "Who am I to dictate your life." You see a small smile curl his lips, "Plus, James is an idiot but he's harmless. I've never seen him so genuine."

You perk up, "Yeah?"

Remus turns to you and reaches out to hold your shoulders, "Yeah. You should talk to him. He's convinced you're in love with Regulus." Your smile disappears. 

"Oh, yeah, Regulus." 

"You aren't in love with him, are you?" Remus asks, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Of course not!" You stutter, "I mean — I did like him for a moment but I've always liked James more. And I'm not exactly Regulus's type, y'know…" You admit in a whisper, knowing Remus knows exactly what you mean. 

Remus smiles and nods. You look up at him and see his eyes shimmer, "If you've been holding back from liking James because of me, don't." He says sincerely, "He could make you happy, I know that."

You look at your brother's expression. He's completely serious. You look away and think back to James's confession: Y/n/n, you should be with me, not him. Your cheeks burn just remembering his words. You turn your head to your brother and nod, smiling. Remus drops his hands on your shoulders and lets you sprint up the stairs. 

You barely make it to your brother's dorm when the door opens and James comes out. Your forehead hits his and the momentum causes him to fall backward.

You yelp as James's arms wrap around your waist as he cushions your fall and smacks the back of his head on the ground. You lift yourself with your arm, your knees in between James's legs as you practically lay on top of him.

James winces and his eyes shut.

"James! Are you okay?" You pant, barely aware of the embarrassing position you're in. 

Sirius and Peter peek their heads out of the door and Sirius smirks when he sees the two of you, "I don't think Moony meant you could jump straight into this, Y/n." He jokes. 

"Shut up," James mumbles and his hand holds your back as he sits himself up. You're now sitting on your heels as you look at James with wide eyes. He looks at you too and then his thumb gently brushes over your forehead, "You're gonna form a bruise." He mutters, eyebrows scrunching. 

You smile faintly and move to adjust his glasses on his nose, "Probably from your glasses."

James stands up and helps you up with him. Your hand lingers in his and you smile faintly. 

"We should talk." You say.

"Yeah," James looks away bashfully, "Come with me." He takes your hand again and you let him steer you down the stairs. Your feet barely feel like they're on the ground as you follow him.

Your stomach is in knots when he pushes the doors to the Common Room open and you make your way down new stairs and multiple hallways. Your head is spinning.

"James?" You mutter but he continues to walk, "James! Wait." You shout in a laugh. James turns around just as you pull him closer. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears when you delicately push him towards the wall and as his back hits the wall, you press your lips on his. 

Your hands cup his cheeks and his hand lowers to your lower back as he pulls you into him. You can't help but smile into his mouth as you run your hands in his curls.

After a moment, he disconnects your lips and his thumbs rub across your cheeks as he holds them. He grins, "Since when do you know how to kiss like that?" He teases with a raised brow. 

You smirk, "Wouldn't you like to know." You kiss him again quickly.

"Y/n, be honest," James looks serious. You frown. You thought your joke was funny. "Do – did? Di- do you still like Regulus?" He tries to avert his eyes but quickly looks at you as if he simply can't look away, "I think I deserve to know," He mutters.

"Of course you do!" You look into his eyes, "And if I still had any feelings for Regulus, I wouldn't hesitate to let you know, but I don't like him – not anymore. I haven't for weeks. Regulus doesn't like girls," You explain slowly. 

James's eyes widen, "Oh. Ok." He smiles and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Good."

You giggle and kiss him again, "You're cute when you're jealous, Potter." You pause, "Cute but just a tad insane."

James frowns, "You'd go insane too, if you were me." 

You grin, "Perhaps I would." You tease him and look at him adoringly, "You won't make me find out will you?"

James returns your grin and wraps his arms around you. He kisses your forehead and says, 

 "Never, my love." 

[feyascorner]

“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.

“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..

“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.

“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.

I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.

“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.

Let him love you again.

[cuteandhughesy]

When The Seasons Change | Luke Hughes

summary: each season comes and with each one, you're falling deeper in love with your best friend. 4 + 1

11.0+k

warnings: SFW!friends to lovers | slow burn | flirting | fluff | suggestive themes | kissing | read at your own discretion

link to masterlist

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september 9th, 2015

dear diary <3

it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny. the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friends luke 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11.

anyways :) his party was a girl boy party and we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together but we couldn't because of jack and quinn's hockey.

it was a really fun day and luke loved the sidney crosby shirt I picked for him. but the reason i'm feeling funny is because of lacey patterson. lacey is in our class and was invited to the arcade as well. I thought she had a crush on matthew but the whole time she wouldn't leave luke alone. she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me.

i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special. his soft curly hair and his bright eyes and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love my best friend and now that lacey likes him I can't help but feel angry.

how and I suppose to grow up and marry luke if lacey is in the way???!!!

one: valentine's day

"it was a disaster," you sigh loudly, pushing your way into luke's apartment as he pulls open the threshold of the door. you toss your small pink bag on his counter top and slump into a bar stool, "I mean a breakfast date? I'm not even sure why I agreed to do that with him in the first place- I barely know the guy and breakfast certainly isn't the place to get to know him."

luke slowly makes his way over to you, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the palm of his hand. "I shouldn't say I told you so, but," he says sleepily, pausing to grab a bowl out of the kitchen cupboard, "I told you so."

you groan, dropping your head into your hands. "I really need to listen to you more," you admit, eyes flicking upwards as you watch luke pour himself a healthy sized amount of shreddies. you hate the cereal, you think it taste like dry wheat. luke has always loved shreddies though, so you always have some at the ready. plus, it's the only cereal luke's professional athlete diet allows.

he shrugs with a cheeky smirk.

"not only did he only talk about himself and refer to me as a 'female'," you air quote the condescending title and luke shudders between spoonfuls of cereal. you continue, "but he asked me how much money I make and spilt his orange juice on me - on valentine's day of all days. I swear i'm never spending valentine's day with a man again."

luke wipes the drip of milk off his mouth with the back of his hand, sending you a questioning look, "not even me?"

"you don't count, obviously, or I wouldn't be here." you raise your brows in his direction, as if if to say duh.

luke smirks again but shoves more cereal in his mouth to try and mask it. "right, okay, guys an asshole - so you ended the awkward valentines breakfast to head here at..." he trails off, eyes finding the digital clock on his and jack's shared stove for the first time that morning. "8:56 in the morning - jesus is this guy 80?"

"I wish," you huff, "an eighty year old would probably of kept his nose out of my bank account."

luke snickers, dropping his dirty bowl in the sink.

"do something with me today?" you plead, leaning across the counter top so you can poke his muscular side. "don't let my valentines makeup go to waste."

luke tiredly glances over to you, taking note of how there's a little pink glitter sprinkled across your eyelids and how your usual lip colour was replaced with a more pink toned shade. your smile all cheesy at him and it has luke breaking out of his thoughts - blinking hard.

"how does lunch and the movies sound?" he asks after a moment of pondering. "i'm sure there's some sappy romantic movie playing."

you scoff at his tone, "hey! I love those sappy romantic movies."

"I know," he hums, leaning against the counter infront of you. "that's why I suggested it."

you place your head in your palm, looking up at your best friend fondly as he practically leans over you. "you're the best lukey," you say after a moment, a gentle smile on your face.

he shrugs and the action has his sleep shirt lifting to reveal his toned v-line and happy trail. you don't let your eyes linger, quickly darting your vision away before you turn red.

luke's expression changes briefly, and it looks like he may say something but the sound of jacks bedroom door clicking open has him stopping - eyes darting to the hallway just as his brother shuffles out.

jacks eyes find yours as you sit comfortably in his bar stool. he admits a big yawn and wide stretch before mumbling - "I should've known it was you making all this noise."

he rounds into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle to boil himself some water for his beloved morning coffee.

"ha ha," you say sarcastically.

"why the fuck does it smell like orange juice in here." jack mumbles.

"oh god," you cry out, grabbing your bag and sliding off the stool. now that luke's eyes are properly open and he's aware of his conscious, he sees how your white jeans have an orange liquid stain on the leg. luke smiles fondly as your cheeks tinge pink, brushing past him and his brother and towards the front door, "i'm going home and changing!"

luke laughs gently, following behind you. "i'll text you when i'm leaving here."

"sounds great," you breath out, a smile making its way onto your face. "wear pink," you tease him, shimming your shoulder in his direction.

"happy valentine's day," jack calls out from the kitchen. you catch sight of him shuffling his way past the door and back down the hall, a steaming mug in his hands.

you meet luke's eyes again and hes still looking at you, leaning against the door in his morning glory - plaid pyjama pants hanging low and his arms crossed to make all his muscles stretch deliciously. "happy valentine's day," luke mimics his brother in a fond whisper.

"happy valentine's day," you repeat. "i'll see you later."

"you will." luke says.

when you get back to your apartment complex, marianne, the front desk receptionist, flags you over before you can reach the elevator - her bright red lipstick and heart bobble head band instantly making you smile.

"you have a delivery," she says, pushing a massive vase full of red roses in your direction.

you're momentarily in a state of shock, staring at the bouquet of flowers dumbfounded. "are you sure they're for me?" you splutter after a moment.

marianne nods joyfully, a finger running over one of the delicate pedals. "oh yes, honey! delivery man dropped them off real early this morning."

you pluck the crisp white card from its slot, quickly opening the small envelope with slightly shaky fingers - anxiously wanting to reveal the mystery behind the roses.

just incase your breakfast date doesn't get you flowers. I hope you get all the ladybugs in your stomach today, y/n/n. happy valentine's day.

love, lukey.

two: easter

"you two seriously need to quit this," quinn's voice is a mix of bordem and amusement, eyeing you and luke. "it's every year." quinn concludes, jack nodding in silent agreement as he bites into a chocolate egg.

"quit and willingly loose to luke?" you thumb over your shoulder to the tallest hughes brother - who is standing diagonally behind you with his arms crossed. "absolutely not."

jack tries to hit you with a chocolate egg, but it misses your body - you send him an accusing glare before quinn starts again.

"guys, seriously it's just an egg hunt." he deadpans, eyes dancing between his brother and you.

"it's not just an egg hunt," luke says matter of factly. his arms fall to his sides and he steps closer to you, the fabric of his flannel brushing your exposed shoulder. "it's one of the only times I get to prove to everyone I am the superior egg finder."

competitively, you roll your eyes. luke has been using that line since one of the very first easters you had spent together.

when you were 5 years old, your family moved to your now home city and into the two story house neighbouring the hughes' home. it was almost instantly that you and luke become close - after he got over how'd you'd aimlessly follow him around and want to be near him (you liked the leafs just like him so he liked you soon after).

your parents become very close with ellen and jim and it become a tradition to spend easter together - enjoying the festive meal and activities. even now with quinn in a different country and you, jack and luke all in jersey, you would all find yourself making it home for the easter dinner and egg hunt.

which leads you into your second ever holiday spent with the hughes family - the first egg hunt you had won. luke claimed to his family after they had teased him that he let you win and was, in fact, the superior egg hunter. obviously, you couldn't let that slide and you're still battling luke in your early twenties for the title of egg hunt champion.

"you wish," you tease luke, "a superior egg hunter would of brought proper footwear to ensure they could get down and dirty." slowly, your eyes flicker to luke's feet, eyeing the crisp white air forces that were bound to get filthy.

luke scoffs, taking a step towards you. "oh trust me - i'm ready to get dirty."

"is this how kids flirt now?" jacks voice is like a nail to your eardrum and you quickly take a step away from luke, making your way to the island and grabbing your bunny shaped bucket.

"it's called smack talk," luke answers his brother sharply, also grabbing his egg basket - a bright yellow whicker bin with fuzzy chicks hot glued to the handle: he's been using it forever. "this is a competition."

"it's really not," quinn mutters, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he leans into the kitchen island.

just before you or luke could scold the eldest hughes, ellen makes her way through the back door, her pink floral maxi skirt swaying around her ankles. "you guys coming out?" she questions you all, her brows raised expectantly. "all the young kids are ready."

"oh," luke snickers, "i'm ready."

"we are all ready," you correct, eyeing your best friend briefly.

she smiles fondly, her small hands clasping together - ellen hughes would never get tired of seeing you and all her boys together on the holidays. "the eggs are all hidden - don't forget the winner gets the chocolate bunny!" she sing songs, guiding you all to the large backyard decorated in pastels and flowers.

"see," luke hums, jamming his elbow into his oldest brothers side, "told you it was a competition."

"oh my god."

after a brief speech from ellen, you were informed the oldest kids (you, luke, jack and quinn) would be searching for the blue coloured eggs and the younger kids (consisting mostly of hughes' cousins) would be searching for yellow eggs. the yellow eggs were hidden in easier spots but jim and your dad had ensured the blue eggs were in more difficult places.

10 minutes into the hunt, you've secured 6 of the possible 17 blue easter eggs. you wander further down the large property, eyes frantically searching for more to add to your collection. it isn't long before you catch a glimpse of bright blue - the small egg nestled between a few branches up in one of the trees. you're suprised you could even see it through the leaves, but the sun catches the egg once more and you're positive you're not imagining it.

with a determined head, you place your bucket on the ground near the stump of the tree before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. you use all your strength to start hauling yourself up the tree, climbing upwards through the leaves and branches.

finally, you reach the height of the easter egg, and you smile victoriously, reaching out to grab it. at your sudden movement, the branch you had been standing on with your one foot gives out, cracking loudly until it snaps downwards. you gasp, hands reaching out to wrap around the thick trunk, watching horrified as your previous spot swings in the air.

you scan the surrounding branches, looking for the most secure one for your full weight - one that wouldn't break off under your feet. there's one behind you that looks promising, so you shift against the trunk, carefully stepping across the gap in the branches until you can fully place your feet on the new one.

you sigh once you feel secure, taking a deep breath to try and let the erratic heart beating in your chest come back to normal. miraculously through your almost plummet back to the ground, you managed to keep ahold of your egg and your gripping that damn blue thing hard, ensuring after all that trouble it wasn't going anywhere.

once your adrenaline levels return to a much more manageable level and the thumping heartbeat in your eardrums subsides, you decide you're ready to start making your journey to the ground - as safe as possible.

you let your one foot steps off, pressing down on a different branch to test its sturdiness. it seems stable enough, and you push off the trunk behind you to help push yourself onto the other branch.

your dress tugs, not allowing you to move over. you frown in confusion, trying to pull away harder. it's no luck, and your eyes close in disbelief. you try and uncomfortably stretch around yourself to catch sight of what the hell was going on and you catch a glimpse of of a sharp broken twig, completely hooked through your dress.

and of course you've left your phone behind on the kitchen island when you decided you'd have to use for it during the egg hunt. you course yourself, making another attempt at wiggling yourself off the ridged twig. it proves to be unsuccessful when you try and move onto the other branch once again and find yourself still being pulled back towards the trunk.

just as you begin to feel waves on panic bubble up your body and tears well up in your eyes, the sound of shuffling below halts your meltdown. you listen more intently, and the melodies of an all too familiar hushed whistle adding to the noise.

luke is wandering around aimlessly, whistling the megan moroney song you had showed him the week prior - clearly he has taken a liking to it as well. he's got his easter basket in his hand, swinging it slightly so his collected eggs roll around.

he is practically right under the tree you're in, and you take the opportunity before it leaves. "luke!" you call your friends name, your voice a mixture between a whisper and a yell - not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to your very uncomfortable and embarrassing position, luke would surely tease you enough to make up for everyone.

luke's whistling comes to a halt, his body coming to a stand still near the large roots of the tree that were protruding from the soil. he spins around a couple times, looking for you.

a beat passes.

"where are you?" luke questions quietly, doing another 360 of the area. he knows you can't be too far because you sounded close, but not directly beside him. his brows furrow when he can't see anything.

"in the tree - i'm stuck." you huff, eyes closing as the rush of embarrassment comes after admitting your predicament out loud. luke still looks confused and unsure, so you sigh, rustling one of the nearby branches to show him that you were in fact in a tree and not hiding in a nearby bush - planning to ambush him for his eggs.

finally luke catches on, looking up towards the thick branches wide eyed and confused. once he catches sight of you, his previous expression morphes into one of mischief and his lips tug upwards in a gooey smile. "oh! don't you look all cute up there."

you ignore his teasing with a dismissive eye roll, "come up here and help me untangle myself from this damn branch."

luke's eyes wander towards the trunk of the tree, landing on your easter basket that you'd previously abandoned in favour of climbing - your blue eggs starting at him in all their glory. luke hums, slowly looking back towards you - his eyes shimmering with a misbehaved twinkle you're all too familiar with. "nah, I think i'll just take some of these eggs and be on my way."

"lukeeeeee," you whine his name, eyes closing in annoyance- luke could really push your buttons when he wanted to.

your hands are starting to hurt from the bark under you palm, and your ridged posture from being caught by the tree is becoming uncomfortable. "come help meeeee," you whine again, "is this how you're going to treat your best friend?"

when you began to speak, luke has already put down his own easter basket, nestling it beside yours wiped his hands free of any sweat and made his way towards the tree, large fingers wrapping around the first branch as he pulls himself up. "relax, i'm coming."

you watch as he quickly climbs up the tree, resembling a spider monkey as his long limbs wrap around branches and you smile to yourself at the thought of luke as a monkey.

suddenly, you begin to feel embarrassed about your situation. you feel even sillier for getting yourself stuck on a branch, something taht could've been avoidable if you weren't so damn stubborn about a stupid egg hunt. your previous smile of relief turns sour, eyes downcast as luke finally gets to your level.

your face has luke mimicking your frown, brows drawn together as he addresses you. he reaches out for you, running a large hand over your curled hair. "hey, don't worry - you're okay."

you muster one nod in acknowledgment, taking a shaky breath.

"let's see," luke mutters between you, leaning into your personal space to attempt in getting a proper look at the damage - one of his arms wrapping around your body for stability as he peeks over your shoulder. "easy peasy," luke adjusts his body slightly, his chest brushing your bare shoulder as he fiddles with the material of your dress.

you fight off a pleasant shiver, controlling your breathing as his long fingers brush against your soft skin, tickling you in the best way. finally, you feel your dress become loose and fall back into its proper position.

you breathe in relief, your smile returning.

"ta da," luke pulls back, his own smile lighting up his face as he hovers over you. now that you're less stressed, you notice how intimate your and luke's position is. his feet's are slotted between yours in the thick branch, his one arm still around your body while his other one moves to wrap around the trunk, holding you both there - his breath fanning over your face.

"you're welcome." he teases you, snapping you out of your own head.

"thank you." you hum nonchalantly, one of your hands coming up and fixing your hair and be ridding of any stray leaves or baby twigs that may of found their way in there.

"what's my reward?" luke questions gently, head tilted as his tongues slowly darts out, licking his bottom lip.

the air turns thick with a sticky tension, making your spot in the tree feel like it suddenly was located on the sun. quickly, your eyes widen, watching the way luke begins to smirk at your flustered face.

you clear your throat, choosing to not read into any underlying meaning. "one of my easter eggs." you answer firmly, a gentle nod of confidence following suit.

he tongues his cheek. "just one?"

you nod once again, a noise of conformation falling from your lips.

luke hums, eyes not leaving yours as he says - "guess i'll just take more."

because you know your best friend all too well,before he can even attempt to descend back towards the ground, you push of the branch, quickly moving around him and scaling down the trunk. you're suprised at how quick you get to the ground and even more suprised you don't hurt yourself in the process.

just as you grab ahold the fuzzy purple bunny easter basket off the ground, you hear luke thump back onto the grass, a gentle laugh of disbelief falling from his mouth.

you turn on your heels to face him, your basket gripped in your hand as you swing it teasingly out towards him - a victorious and teasing smile on your face.

he kisses his teeth and his eyes dart towards the ground to mask his amused grin. he grabs his own easter basket before making the short distance to you.

"like promised," you say, plucking one of the shiny blue eggs from your basket. "your reward." delicately, you place the egg into luke's basket, adding to his collection of five.

almost immediately, luke grabs the egg you just gave him, placing it back into your basket. "no it's okay," he says quickly, hand raised defensively when you begin to furrow your brows. luke continues, "after all, when I win, I want it to be fair and square."

"my god," you roll your eyes fondly, the corners of your lips tugging up in a smile. "whatever helps you sleep lukey."

"I see another one!" jack yells somewhere on the property - quinn's voice following suit as he threatens to fight jack over an easter egg.

simultaneously, your and luke's eyes widen at what you're hearing.

"what's over there?" luke questions, brows furrowed as he points behind you.

you frown in confusion, spinning around to try and spots the object of luke's gaze.

he takes off, calling out some stupid insult about you being a sloth as he does. your scoff of disbelief turns into a laugh, and you begin to run.

you don't remember finding the last egg that was sitting in your basket when ellen counted all of them out - but seeing as you had the most blue eggs out of everyone, you weren't going to complain, taking your chocolate bunny prize happily.

luke watches you light up with joy when you are declared the winner for another year in a row. he finds himself smiling along, happy that when he handed you the egg back you had given him as a reward, he managed to slip one of his own back in with it- just like he does every year.

three: 4th of july

you knew that having another vodka water, adding to your borderline drunk state, wasn't the smartest idea - but you cracked open the can regardless, the sound echoing over the michigan lake.

you take a hearty sip to mask the scowl on your face. lacey laughs loudly, and your annoyance grows because yes it was the same lacey from luke's birthday party all those years ago and yes, unfortunately she was close to some of your other friends so yes she'd often hang out with the group.

this 4th of july weekend was no exception as you watch lacey continue to hang around luke and jack - your jealousy meter maxing out anytime she would lean into luke or touch his arm.

you take another sip, some of the liquid dribbling down you lip after quinn drives over one of the waves, sending trevor zegras into the air as he wakeboards behind you. quickly and rather aggressively, you wipe the spilled alcohol off your chin, eyes still pointedly glaring towards your best friend, his brother and lacey.

as if he can sense your staring, luke turns his head in your direction, quickly finding you on the bench seat. you're sitting with your back turned to wards the water and jacob truscott - who's job is attentively watching trevor as he wakeboards.

luke's initial smile with seeing you is wiped away once he sees that you're annoyed, your clear sour face making him frown. quickly, you turn your head in the opposite direction.

and because drunk you has no self control, you quickly look back in luke's direction, not lasting 5 seconds. luke is still watching you, his brows pulled together in question. just when it looks like he is going to make his way over to you, lacey grabs his wrist, lighting up as she animatedly begins to tell a story that 'he just had to hear!'

you start to become angry. not only were you feeling frustrated because lacey was not your cup of tea and jack invited her to your 4th of july celebration regardless of your feelings, but you were even more upset by the fact that luke was allowing himself to be so easily entertained by her. luke had always treated lacey normally, even though you often expressed how you weren't her biggest fan - which was okay, of course. you didn't want luke to treat her differently just because you didn't like her, but still - it had you feeling jealous.

you take a huffy breath, getting up from your seated position as careful and as stable as you could while being drunk on a moving boat. obviously, it wasn't your best or most successful idea, quinn jerking the boat for trevor's boarding quickly and it has you stumbling - right into the back of jacob.

he turns around quickly, his eyes blown wide as he takes you in. "hey, y/n, you okay?"

and just like that your brain comes up with a plan. one that though you may regret in the morning when you're sober, in your drunkenness sounds perfect - you've never thought of a better idea in your life. you smile at jacob, fluttering your lashes at him. "can I sit and watch with you?"

jacob watches as you bite you lip in question while you await his answer, eyeing him with a hazy look over your bright eyes.

he chuckles slightly, "course you can."

you smile cheerfully and you quickly start to make the small step up onto the seat platform, your small hand gripping jacob's strong shoulder to help balance yourself until you gracefully plop down beside him. as flirtatious as you can manage while being intoxicated, you run your hand from his shoulder down his arm, trying to tickle him.

jacob eyes you suspiciously, a small amused smile beginning to tug his lips upwards. you smile back, bringing your hand into your lap. "what are you up to?" jacob questions after a moment. he doesn't wait for an answer before he turns his head to look over his shoulder - right at luke.

"nothing!" you hum, laying your palm flat on his cheek and bringing his gaze back towards you.

jacob gives you a look, brows raised knowingly. he has to tongue his cheek to not laugh, your plan of trying to make luke jealous obvious. clearly you're not as inconspicuous as you thought.

you shrug once, leaning in even closer to jacob. "just wanted to sit with you is all."

he just nods, shrugging nonchalantly "whatever you say." jacob's eyes leave yours, attention back on trevor on the wakeboard. clearly jacob doesn't mind helping you out, he even lets his hand slide behind you, resting flat on the seat right near your ass - he doesn't even seem flustered at the how if he stretched his pinky out he'd be touching your butt - that kind of makes you feel at ease.

after flirting and laughing with jacob for 10 minutes, trevor's time on the wake board comes to an end, quinn slowing down the boat. in that 10 minutes you'd only managed to get in a glance towards luke three times (jacob kept you pretty entertained oddly enough), and everytime luke was wearing a neutral expression - his arms crossed and listening to lacey.

trevor removes himself from to board, breathless as he climbs onto the swim platform."did you guys see me hit that last wave?" he smiles, unzipping the life jacket wrapped around his torso.

"it was sick," ethan edwards comes up beside you, leaning on his elbows right beside your thighs to talk to trevor - drunk you honestly forget he was here. "fuck man way cooler than any waves I got - quinn must have his favourites." ethan continues, playfully side eyeing the oldest hughes brother as he makes his way over to the back of the boat.

"ha ha," quinn says sarcastically, grabbing onto the rope of the wake board paddle and pulling it towards the boat. "if I actually had favourites, trevor wouldn't be one of them."

trevor cries out and grabs his peck like quinn's words had actually reached out and stabbed him, "ouch."

quinn ignores trevor, rolling his eyes dismissively - although his lips move upwards in a small smile. "alright," he breaths, finally getting the wakeboard onto the swim platform, " who wants to go next."

looking back over your shoulder once more, you see that luke still isn't bothered enough in coming over to you - listening to some story lacey was blabbing on about to jack and dylan duke.

you hum, shooting up off the bench. you wobble slightly, ethan grabbing your ankle reflexively to try and steady you. you smile triumphantly, "i'll go." you make your way over to quinn, taking the protective life jacket from trevor's outstretched hand.

quinn looks you up and down, eyes hesitant. "you sure?"

you nod without looking at him, stepping into the boots of the board. if flirting with luke's friend wasn't working in getting his attention, hanging off the back of the boat as you zip through the water surely had to.

you clip the buckles down, the sound snapping against the boots. quinn bends down in attempt to help you get secure, but you dismiss him, dropping off of the swimming platform and into the water.

"y/n..." quinn starts, his eyes filled with doubt.

"i'm good." you take the ropes right out of quinn's hands, wrapping them once around your wrist. "let's do it."

he sighs but doesn't protest any further, leaving you alone. quinn walks off the platform, making his way back to the driver's seat.

the engine starts a few moments later, the roar making you smile slightly - adjusting the slippy rope handles as you prepare to start.

"fuck yeah, y/n!" jack calls, hands bracketed around his mouth as he cheers for you, his voice echoing over the lake.

after getting your thumbs up, quinn starts to drive, the movement of the motor vehicle slowly dragging your body towards the surface, gaining speed until the wakeboard comes to the top. jacob slaps the bench seat a few times in a cheer, him and ethan both praising and cheering you on back on the boat. your smile widens at the boys and luke's brows furrow.

the boat is going the proper speed now, and quinn starts to do circles around himself to create the desired waves - you swallow nervously as you see the first one approaching. you can feel your hands loosen on the rope again , and naturally your fingers unhook themselves in order for them to readjust. the wave hits sooner than anticipated, and you first jolt forwards quickly before being flung backwards, your feet coming out of the boots as you get launched into the water.

you push up to the surface with your shaky arms, a gasping breath leaving your lips as you take in the air.

the boat has been stopped, and there's a group of worried faces staring at you from about 10 feet away. you definitely shouldn't of dismissed quinn when he wanted to check over your buckles, and you definitely shouldn't of let your guard down when trying to re-grip the rope.

you start to leisurely swim back towards the boat, feeling much more calm now that you’re not being panicked underwater. “i’m good!” you laugh it off, approaching the platform.

jack is waiting for you, his hand outstretched in your direction. you grip it, your wet palm slapping against his calloused one as he pulls you out of the water. he says your name through a smile, “that was badass."

then you notice how luke’s there as well, looking much more stressed than his brother - eyes frantically searching you for any visible injuries. "are you okay?" he breaths.

"yes," you sigh firmly. jack finally lets you go, allowing you to stand yourself up on your own feet. as you place your left foot down fat, your ankle screams in protest and gives out on you - making you topple forwards with a yelp. "fuck."

instantly, luke is there, rushing towards you and grabbing a hold of your arms. he keeps you upright, leaning down so he can look into your eyes. “what hurts?”

"my ankle," you whine quietly, eyes moving down in embarrassment. not only were you drunk, but you were now hurt and in enough pain for your intoxication to not even be able to mask it. "it really hurts lukey." you whisper, your throat becoming thick with emotion.

"okay, okay," luke wraps an arm around your waist, putting all of your weight onto him as he helps you off of the swimming platform and onto the carpeted area of the boat. you wince quietly in the short time it takes to get to the front of the boat - away from prying eyes that would only have you feeling even more embarrassed.

"sit down." luke tells you sternly, helping in lowering you to the seat. tears are desperately wanting to escape, the entire day of events weighing heavy on your chest.

luke turns away from you, reaching into the blue drink cooler - digging through the ice and cans of seltzers until he finds a plastic water bottle. he grabs it, walking back towards you with an unreadable expression, sitting across from you.

"i'm cold." you say as soon as luke sits down. you can’t decide if you’re cold because your wet and the sun is starting to set or if it’s because luke’s knees keep brushing yours, igniting goosebumps.

your emotions come to a head, and a tear finally falls, trailing down the round of your sunkissed cheek.

"let's take off the lifejacket, okay?" he reaches towards you, unzipping the wet jacket. your boobs definitely spill out of your bikini top in a way that is probably unflattering, no longer pushed against you by the life jacket. “give it back incase somebody else wants a turn.” luke grabs dylan dukes abandoned towel, wrapping the fluffy cover around your shoulders.

his teasing gives right over your head.

"okay," luke sighs quietly, tapping his two fingers against your thigh."let me see your ankle, put it on my leg."

you do as he says, bringing your leg up and over so you can comfortably have your knee bent and foot laying flat on luke's muscular thigh - his leg hairs tickling your painted toes.

softly, luke uses the water bottle he'd earlier grabbed as a temporary ice pack, pressing it to your ankle bone. the coolness feels nice, and it already is helping the pain.

your mood turns even more unpleasant when you her lacey's high pitched laugh echo around you - assaulting your water logged ear drums. you keep your eyes downcast, fingers wordlessly fiddling with a loose strand on the beach towel.

you sniffle, "wouldn't you rather be with lacey?" your jealously is definitely showing, but you're too irritated with the days events to be civil. lacey, combined with hurting your ankle and having luke practically ignoring you all day has your filter disappearing.

one of luke's long fingers slowly starts running along the back of your calf. "nah." he says gently. you can feel his eyes on you, but you're still not sure if you can handle looking into his eyes in the state your in.

your brows raise in suprise, and your disbelief is still prevalent in your tone. "really? she sure gives you a lot of attention."

luke shrugs once. "you're hurt. you take priority."

his answer has you scoffing slightly, and you tug harder on the loose towel thread. "only because i'm hurt?" finally, you look back towards him, eyes pinched with irritation at his answer.

in all seriousness, luke looks at you. his lips almost tug down in a frown, and his eyes begin to soften at your red cheeks and glazed eyes. "no. you always are my priority."

now you feel embarrassed. although lacey is more outgoing and flirty than you are, you are luke's best friend - not her. quickly, your hand comes up to wipe away any fallen tears, "sorry." you mumble.

luke dismisses your apology, tapping your heel twice around the cold water bottle he was still pressing against you. he eyes your somber expression again, and kisses his teeth.

your eye him as he scoots closer towards you. "can I tell you something?"

you nod, naturally finding yourself leaning in as well.

luke's lips begin to turn upwards. "watching you flirt and spend time with jacob today...It made me feel kind of jealous."

you feel your heart come to a hard stop and then speed up again - beating frantically at luke's confession. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but you're too baffled to say anything.

he continues quietly, "because, you know, he was taking my best friends attention away from me."

you deflate.

luke shrugs, "and I know that's hypocritical because I was kind of being a dick today but still...jacob doesn't deserve your attention - neither do I honestly but-"

you shake your head, bumping the leg that wasn't resting on his thigh against luke's knee, stopping his rambling. he's still your luke, no matter what. he's awkward and sweet and....yours.

"you're the only one I really want to give my attention to, lukey."

he smiles gently, "really?"

"yeah - i'm drunk," you remind him, "I can't lie even if I want to." you both laugh at your half slurred confession, leaning into each other as you do so.

as quinn pulls the boat back towards the dock of the hughes summer house, you can't even remember why you'd been annoyed with luke in the first place - too focused on him nursing your ankle and his soft smile.

four: fall festivities

"jello shot?" you ask through an exhale, a bright smile on your face. you gesture the small serving tray full of colourful desert towards the two girls in front of you. thankfully, they smile back, happily taking the alcohol from you.

you nod in parting before picking up your pace once more, gripping the tray harder as you practically jog around your condo - determined to serve everybody.

when luke had mentioned jack offered to host the annual new jersey devils halloween party, he told you that him and his brother were worried about the limited space in their apartment and were unsure of how they were going to make it work. seeing your best friend in a predicament had you immediately offering your place to throw it.

not only was your space bigger, but your only neighbour was a wealthy businessman who was never home, so there would be no noise complaints and no issues with fitting the devils roster in for a halloween themed party. obviously your offer had nothing to do with being totally into your best friend and going to any extreme to see him happy - obviously.

there was a few more people attending than you were initially expecting to show up - which mostly consist of the wives and girlfriends of the team, but still, you hadn't factored that in. the added people had your hosting skills dialled up to an 11, and you can't remember the last time you had sat down or properly mingled with anybody - too busy making sure everything was stocked.

you squeeze through a group of laughing girls you don't recognize, and you whisper your apologies as you move through them. "jell-o shot?" you question, approaching dougie, dawson and john near the fireplace.

"oh hey," john greets you, dressed like a minion. "you look like you're having a great time." john laughs and they all reach out to take a halloween coloured shot cup off your tray.

"I am if you are," you smile politely, his teasing remark flying over your head - you're too tired and stressed to digest his words properly.

you're definitely not having a great time. your hand is cramping around the orange and purple striped serving tray, your fake eyelashes are stabbing you, your legs are killing you, and don't even start on how your faux fur coat has you sweating profusely.

"cruella, right?" dawson is the one to question you, gesturing to your halloween costume - a simple black dress paired with a spotted coat, red gloves, pearls and the wig of course.

you nod, "in the flesh."

"y/n!" you hear jack call your name loudly from the opposite end of your condo, his hands clasped around his mouth as he shouts for you. "we need more punch."

you sigh gently, throwing your hand in the air blindly to give the middle hughes a thumbs up - a conformation that you heard him and you'd make another bowl.

"sorry, would you guys excuse me - duty calls." you manage to give a laugh towards the three devil players, all dressed in contradicting costumes, spinning on your heels and speed walking away.

you push through the swinging door that leads to your kitchen, half empty tray of jell-o shots and the glass punch bowl you grabbed on the way balanced in your hands. thankfully nobody was in your kitchen, and the sight of emptiness has you breathing in relief.

you loved having everyone at your place and you especially loved how everyone felt comfortable in dressing up and allowing you, jack and luke to host - but you couldn't wait for the night to be over. you always underestimated the hassle of hosting, and this night is proving that.

you fan your warm face with a gloved hand, trying to cool yourself off. your free hand is pouring some koolaid mix into the empty punch bowl, the powered crystals becoming liquid as they touch the orange juice and sprite concoction.

the door creaks, alerting you as somebody enters your once quiet kitchen. your shoulders deflate naturally, and your already preparing for another task or hosting duty that you'd have to attend to.

you look over your shoulder and are met with the comforting gaze of your best friend. luke smiles softly at you, which makes him look extra cute in his dalmatian outfit. "hey," luke starts, making his way over you, "I haven't seen you all night. you okay?"

the relief floods through your body, but a different wave of emotion quickly replaces any prior ones. you feel yourself wanting to cry, because no, you're not doing okay. "i'm stressed, lukey, i'm sorry. I love hosting but my costume is so hot that i feel permanently wet from how much i've been sweating. my body hurts and i'm tired and I feel like the list of things I need to do is endless and-" you exhale, dropping the wooden mixing spoon to the counter. "respectfully I can't wait for it to end."

luke frowns, reaching you in two long strides. "don't apologize for feeling overwhelmed." he shrugs, glancing over his shoulder quickly, "it's definitely more people than I expected."

you sniffle, laughing gently as you nod in agreement. "definitely."

he smiles softly, and like he's done a million times before, luke gently reaches out, his thumb swiping under your eye to brush any fallen tears. "let's head up to the roof for a bit," he hums, a slight frown tugging his lips, "get some air."

you exhale shakily. "jack needs the punch though."

"fuck him and fuck the punch," luke tells you sternly, "they can survive without it for a little bit, okay?"

"okay," you whisper in agreement.

you live on the top floor of your condo, so the journey to the buildings rooftop wasn't long. luke leads you up the small flight of stairs and out onto the decorated deck like he's done many times, guiding you over to your and his claimed spot.

immediately, you fall back dramatically into the lounger, eyes meeting the starry night sky above. you can feel like you can breath properly, and the only noise you can hear is the city below.

luke smiles at your now closed eyes and starfish pose, making his way over to his favourite green lounger beside you, mimicking your laying down position. he tucks his arm behind his head, using his own forearm as a pillow as he looks at the stars.

a beat passes.

"i'm sorry you're stressed." luke tells you quietly.

you open your eyes, turning your head towards him. luke is already watching you, eyes guilty and frown present.

you shake your head at him, dismissing his apology. after all, he didn't do anything wrong. "it's fine, luke, really."

"I just don't like seeing you struggling," he admits.

"if anything," you start sincerely, "you've made my night 100 times better in like the 5 minutes i've spent with you - which by the way, is crazy, how is this the first time since you got here that we've hung out."

"I know," luke smiles, "i've missed you."

you eye him teasingly, a pout forming on your face. "did my little dalmatian miss his master?" you question in an animated baby voice, one of your hands reaching out to poke his ribs.

luke jolts away from your jab, pulling a disgusted face in favour of your baby voice. regardless of his expression, he was laughing at your question. "you're a weirdo."

"yeah but i'm your favourite weirdo," you say matter of factly, turning your entire body towards him on top of your blue coloured lounger.

luke smirks, "you're definitely top 10."

"top 10?" you screech with a laugh, "not even top 5....I really gotta up my game. who's my competition?"

luke kisses his teeth, in a deep faux thought as he hums. "well, obviously borat is up there."

"obviously," you repeat.

"and my friend y/n is up there too - she's the weirdest one of all." luke sends you another teasing glance, "instead of being normal and saying 'butterflies in my stomach', she calls them ladybirds like a grandma and she eats ranch with almost everything."

you smile, "she sounds hot."

luke tongues his cheek, eyes finding the stars again. another beat passes, the two of you enjoying each others company in silence of city nightlife.

the crinkling of a bag has your brows furrowing, glancing back at luke just as he pulls out a half empty bag of cheeto's. "hungry?" he asks you, holding out the open bag in your direction.

you grab a handful of cheesy sticks, "I didn't even know your onesie had pockets." you tell him with a snicker, plopping two cheetos into your mouth.

"this dalmatian is full of surprises," luke says between chews of the monster handful of chips he'd previously shoved in his mouth.

you snort, grabbing another handful. "of course he is." you're thankful that luke had miraculously snuck cheetos from the party out to the roof, because you think the last time you ate was breakfast. your stomach rumbles at the thought. you swear, your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. "I should've known you'd bring snacks."

luke eyes you with faux suspicion, sucking his thumb clean of cheese dust. "are you calling me fat?"

"luke," you laugh, head lolling away from him and his teasing comments. "you're insufferable."

a heavy drop of water hits your face, starling you. another one follows quickly after, hitting the round of your cheek before sliding down to your ear.

"what the hell," luke mumbles. you eye him quickly, watching as he wipes the few drops of rain off his face. "is that rain?"

you roll your eyes gently, "yes, luke, it's rain."

at your words, the water seems to unleash from the gray night clouds, a thick downfall of rain pouring over you and luke. you sit up quickly, squinting towards the sky. your faux fur coat is quickly becoming drenched, sticking to your skin uncomfortably. "let's go before my lashes fall off." you sigh gently - the thought of heading back into the hectic environment of your condo sounded anything but desirable.

as if luke can sense your hesitation, he gets to his feet quickly, stepping into your line of sight. the dog ears on his onesie are dripping with water, flopping pathetically as he looks at you. he wipes his face of rain, "not yet - let's just stay."

you sigh his name, "it's raining."

"so?" he shrugs, costume sagging down his body, heavy with rain.

"so," you breathe an amused laugh, "we will get wet."

"nothing wrong with a little bit of water," you can see luke smirk through the heavy rain, and you can't help your own lips from tugging upwards at the sight.

you exhale gently, "I don't know."

luke dismisses your hesitation, grabbing a hold of your soaked gloved hands and pulling you towards him, bringing you both farther out the roof deck. "just one dance before we go back to the party - I haven't gotten to dance with you allllll night."

you let him drag you wordlessly, giving him a deadpanned looked.

"plus you deserve a dance - my hard working host." luke adds cheekily. his one hand slides around your waist, pulling you against his front - swaying you to imaginary music gently.

"kiss ass," you mumble, voice just notable over the sound of rain pelting the concrete rooftop. you can feel luke's chest rumble with laughter, his fingers flexing around your hand. "you always dance without music hughes?"

he licks his teeth, looking down at you. your skin looks so soft and dewy from the rain, your eyes dilated from the dark atmosphere. you are blinking up at him gently, your eyelashes wet in a way that makes you look even more beautiful. luke clears his throat, spinning you around dramatically - just barley stopping himself from slipping on the slick ground in the process. "only with you."

luke pulls away from you quickly, but you don't have time to question him before his grip on your hand tightens and he's twirling you back into him. you screech gently, the movement taking you by surprise.

"so you only dance with me or you dance with others but they get the privilege of dancing with music?" you ask him teasingly - this time it's you who is twirling luke around, and the sight of your 6ft2 best friend spinning in a soaked dalmatian onesie was unbeatable.

luke comes back towards you, taking his original position with his strong forearm around your torso, interlocking your fingers together in a waltz like stance. "I only dance with you," he whispers through the rain, "and you're the only one i'll ever dance with - especially in the cold rain without music." he tries to tease you, but his words fall on deaf ears.

you're looking at him with a swirl of emotion in your eyes and your heart beating heavily against your rib cage.

luke seems to stop as well, looking down at you with just as much admiration and tenderness that you're surely showing him. he visibly swallows, his adam's apple bobbing against his throat.

you watch luke's eyes fall to your lips, swiping over them before finding your eyes once again. at first you think you imagine it, but then quickly his eyes dart back to your red lips and the ladybirds start going frantic in your stomach.

was luke about to kiss you?

your blinks start to slow naturally, preparing to shut fully as luke begins to inch in closer to your face, leaning over you in a way that most definitely was uncomfortably straining the muscles in his back.

the door to the rooftop swings open with a squeak before bagging against the wall loudly - echoing all around. startled, you and luke jump away from one another, breathing heavily as your adrenaline comes to a spike.

your body feels freezing without luke's pressed against it, and you shiver uncomfortably, wrapping your soaked fur coat around yourself further.

jack is eyeing you both through the october rain, "hey," he starts, adjusting the plastic firefighter helmet onto his outgrown head of hair. "i've been looking for you guys! y/n we're out of chip dip."

you start walking towards the middle hughes sibling. "sorry, i'll get the other one out the fridge." you sigh, brushing past him and back into the dry hallway of your building.

luke closes his eyes, exhaling loudly.

"you good?" jack asks once luke makes his way over, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "what where you two even doing out here - it's raining."

luke sends his brother a glare, "I know that," he walks back into the building,wiping his face clean of all lingering rain water. "you're so annoying." he quickly walks away from his older brother, leaving him by the door.

jack throws his hands up, "what did I do?"

+ one: christmas

sabrina carpenter's heavenly voice slinks through the warm home, nestling in your ears comfortably. just over the music, you hear ellen hughes laugh happily at something your mom says - both of them in the kitchen, chatting and finishing off a bottle of wine while they clean up the dinner dishes.

jim and your father have been watching hockey tapes in the den, both quiet and content by themselves - them too indulging in a festive spiced wine.

it was christmas eve, after all.

you laugh warmly as quinn dips you low to the ground before pulling you back upwards quickly, sending a quick dizzy wave over you - which is probably the alcohols fault, not quinn's.

jack applauds quinn's elaborate dance moves, smiling with flushed cheeks as he watches you both from his spot sprawled on the worn brown love seat. "where'd you learn to dance like that huggy?" the middle hughes brother questions after a sip of beer, brows raised inquisitively.

quinn doesn't answer and he only spins you on the spot. you hum, "you jealous jack?" your body faces quinn once more, and your momentum has you stumbling slightly, tripping over your own feet and bumping into your dance partner.

"i'm not jealous of anything," jack snickers to himself like he's in on some crazy secret you aren't aware of - but you don't have the mental capacity to unfold that, still laughing and dancing on your family homes shaggy rug.

"yeah yeah whatever," quinn dismisses his brother teasing, rolling his eyes so only you catch it. you giggle at the sight, head falling onto his shoulder as you do.

the stairs creek under somebodies weight, and a moment later luke walks back into the family room empty handed, meeting your eyes. "I can't find it." he tells you.

you leave quinn, which was expected, turning your body and attention towards the youngest brother. "well where did you look?"

after your christmas dinner, ellen and your mom had started going on about childhood memories in their typical sappy mom fashion - laughing and crying while you and the boys eyed them with amusement. your mom was the one who brought up the scrapbook you and luke made together after your shared trip to the zoo on your 11th birthday, which was something even you had forgotten about.

jack had immediately starting pestering and teasing the two of you for being quote on quote cheesy (even though you were kids so obviously you were cheesy - but you digress.) jack begged for you to get the scrapbook so he could see it, and then once he started, quinn claimed he had never seen it and also wanted to look.

"i mean," you had started gently, eyeing luke with a hesitant smile, "it would be nice for us all to look at."

one look at your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, luke was sighing, pushing off the couch. "where is it?"

luke thumbs over his shoulder, "the hallway closet."

"really?" you hum, deep in thought as you think about where else your beloved shared scrapbook could possibly be hiding. "I mean, we could check my old bedroom closet? sometimes mom keeps stuff in there."

jack groans dramatically from the couch, head lulling back. "hurry up and go find it! I need to see that picture of the giraffe licking y/n's face."

quinn and jack crack up just at the thought of the picture you'd told them about - the image captured you shrieking as the giraffes purple tongue slides up your cheek.

"you whiny baby - we're going!" you huff, walking towards the stairs with luke in tow, both of you making the journey up the creaky staircase.

your room is located at the end of the hall, still painted the sage green you had chosen when you and your family first moved in. you dodge your suitcase that you left in the middle of the room, all of your clothes sprawled across the cream carpet from when you were frantically searching for your christmas sweater this morning.

"holy shit," luke says from behind you, eyes wide as he looks around your childhood room, "I haven't been in this room since like....highschool."

you open your closet doors with a small laugh, amused at your best friends amusement. you start rifling through the millions of photo albums and frames that your mom did fill your closet with - like you expected.

"oh my god, we were so little." luke smiles, picking up your lady bug decorated picture frame that was sitting on your tall dresser - right beside you original speak now CD and jewelry box. you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, smiling automatically at the sight of him looking at the picture. "god where are my front teeth?" he laughs, placing the frame back down.

it's a picture of you and luke when you were both 10, smiling happily poolside in your bathing suits - luke's akward grin made perfect by his lack of front teeth. you giggle with him, the memory of that picture just as fresh now as the day it was taken.

you rifled through a few more old photo albums until your fingers land on the tiger striped spine of your and luke's scrapbook. you gasp, "I found it!" you pull it out of the closet quickly, standing from your previously crouched position to once again face luke. you start flipping through the pages, giggling at the pictures as you do so. "this is amazing."

"dear diary," luke says with a laugh. you look up inquisitively, a quirk to your brow. he's got your fuzzy purple notebook clutched in his hand, flipped open to a random page. "it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny." he reads your entry out loud, an amused smile on his face.

"oh god," you laugh, a hand covering your face in embarrassment- already cringing at your younger self.

luke's eyes light up as he reads the next line, laughing as he does so. "the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friend luke's 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11." he quotes you, "you were such an optimistic happy kid." he laughs.

your heart stops and you can feel your face fall. memories of the day you had wrote that specific diary entry come flooding back to you. you pale and your stomach plummets unpleasantly - you half a bottle of wine taunting you. "luke - give me the diary."

he's still laughing to himself, book propped open with a thumb and middle finger. he continues reading, "we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together." he quotes you. he pauses, thinking back to that huge indoor party, "it was a sick arcade." luke hums.

you step towards him, "luke seriously lets go...jack and quinn are waiting." you're suprised at how fast your brain came up with an excuse to leave your room and the diary behind - your anxiety through the roof.

he couldn't fishing reading it.

he skims farther down the page, laughing loudly, quoting your writing more. "she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me - you still sound like this by the way."

you try and lunge towards him and grab the diary, but luke is quicker than you (he always has been) and pulls the book farther out of reach. "i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special - you're too kind to me," he teases you.

"luke," you huff, hands trying to reach around him to grab the book once again, but he spins away, affectively dodging you once more. "please put that away"

luke continues to read the diary entry, your stomach plummeting deeper. "his soft curly hair and his bright eyes-"

"give that to me now." you panic, voice shaky as you beg. you make another attempt at getting your diary out of luke's hands, but he rushes towards the other side of the room, giggling at the writing of child you complimenting him.

luke starts again, "and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love -" he stops reading, face falling. you watch intently as luke's eyes dance over the rest of the lines on the page, reading your 11 year old self's love confession.

you're already thinking of excuses for the entry - you were just a kid and didn't know what love meant or what marriage meant. but you weren't 5 when you wrote it, you were almost a pre-teen who definitely knew what marriage was. that won't work.

you'd could say that lacey was just having you feeling weird and angry - like she always has, but that excuse doesn't seem plausible.

you watch luke anxiously and silently, knawing on your lip as a way to channel your nerves. you were already preparing for your friendship to plummet. now that luke has read your deepest darkest secret - the life long crush you've had on him - you were ready for him to not want to be your friend anymore.

logically, you know you should say something and at least try and convince him that it was nothing - after all it was almost a decade ago and you could play it off as a joke. but words don't come out, and you're stuck in a plummeting hole.

"wow," luke eventually mutters, closing your diary gently.

"luke," you whisper waterly, eyes following him as he walks your diary back over to your dresser, tucking it between taylor swift and framed pictures. you think you might start praying, desperate for luke to want to stay your friend or at least stay in your life - you can't imagine living without him.

"be honest with me," luke starts, "was this just a silly little crush or do you still...love me?"

you mumble his name again, eyes watering with a million emotions that you definitely weren't expecting to experience on christmas eve.

"y/n....tell me."

you meet his eyes, and all you can mutter is a quiet 'I still do', a tear falling down your face and dipping towards your collarbone.

a beat passes.

"well this is pretty embarrassing, right?" he says with a gentle laugh, running a hand over his head of curls in disbelief.

"what?" you mumble.

"I mean over a decade of loving each other in secret, neither of us ballsy enough to say anything- I wonder how many people knew." he laughs to himself, visibly thinking.

you shake your head, "wait what?"

luke steps towards you, closing the space between your bodies in favour of holding the side of your face, his thumb wiping away the trail of water from your tear, resting against your cheekbone affectionately. "I love you."

"you do?"

he nods, "of course I do, wanna read my endless texts from quinn and jack telling me to man up and confess my lifelong crush on you to prove it?" he challenges you teasingly, a playful tone accompanied by a tinge of nerves.

finally, you smile, lips tugging upwards as you reach out for him, your small hand gripping his wrist to keep him close to you. you shake your head, "no, I believe you."

luke laughs breathily, forehead touching yours as he brings your faces closer together. "thank god because those texts are embarrassing." his words are like a million tiny kisses, tickling your face in a way that has your nose scrunching.

"and you reading my diary wasn't?" you question with laughter.

"god no," luke dismisses, "it was cute."

"kiss ass," you smile, running the tip of your nose down the bridge of luke's, nudging your faces closer together. your other hand reaches for his waist, keeping him close.

"yeah." he agrees, free hand moving up to hold the other side of your face. luke smirks one more time before leaning in, finally kissing you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.6k

summary: child soldier gets into task force 141 part TWO, things are getting a bit funny; first part, third part

warnings: description of scars, some violance (combat training)

a/n: I'm actually pretty shocked of how well this fic is going, I hope you're all enjoying this so far, and the plot's is going to intesify a bit the longer this goes on.... and I'm talking too much. Have fun!

Waking up to the familiar alarm is hard enough, but eventually making yourself ready for the first training together is harder. You put on your new uniform and make yourself look more presentable, only to stop midway by the mirror. Your eyes move instinctivley towards your neck. There's no material covering your neck area, making you slightly anxious. There is a long scar across your neck; the scar tissue white and stands out a bit. You feel your deep scar across your neck that goes horizontally through your skin with a slight curve up to your jaw. Hopefully no one will notice. But how is it possible to ignore such thing? There will be questions, there will be eyes on you all the time, there will definitely be snarky comments, and... deep breath in and out. It's no one's business, and you don't owe an explanation to anyone anyway.

Picking up your last courage for today, you walk out of your bunk to the training hall. Walking in, you see a few other soldiers training together, and also Price seemingly waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. He notices you almost immediately and waves you over to him.

»Good morning. Sleep well?«

You shrug, answering him. »Yeah, good enough.«

»Great, you'll need it today.« Perfect, so he planned something tough for today, that's for sure. Shortly after, Ghost and Soap arrive into the hall, as well as Gaz, who seems to be in a good mood. Price claps once, having the attention of everyone on him. He announces the morning stretch you'll be doing first and the next exercise has got to be some teamwork exercise already.

The supposed 'morning stretch' was nothing short of relaxing, but lucky enough you're flexible and got along just fine. Afterwards, the first exercise begins, and as Price explains it, the more you start to think he can't be serious.

»Trust falls?« Soap asks again, also not having expected this exercise to be the first one. Usually, they never do something like this together since they already trust each other with their lives. Price nods, hands on his hips and dead serious. »Who wants to start?«

You're stiff, silently looking around while hoping you won't get picked out. Luckily, Gaz raises his hand slightly and volunteers as first for the trust falls. The captain smiles and nods once more, letting him pick a person to fall against. He chose Soap as some might've expected, and they do it naturally. Nothing bad happens, they trust each other, and one catches the other. They repeat it after switching also, nothing spectacular happening. You watch silently, arms crossed and with nothing to do. It's almost amusing to watch these buffed military guys do silly things, like trust falls. Next was Ghost and Soap, then Price and Gaz with the others. It's awkward now for you since you're the last one, having to just fall back and trust the other to catch you. How can you not feel at least a little awkward while doing it?

»C'mon, it's fun. Just trust us.« Soap encourages you before you could say anything in the first place and already opens his arms for you. There's really nothing you can do but accept your fate and do the trust fall, knowing you have no choice but to trust them all as your teammates. You turn your back to him with a small sigh and close your eyes before falling back, feeling how he indeed catches you right up and lets you sink down a little more. He feels strong and big against your back, not that you doubted it. Soap leans you back up, and you stand up straight again. You hate to admit it but it was fun. Maybe you'd do it again... oh, you need to do it again. Trust falls with everyone, remember?

Price wants to be the next one to do it with you, an almost loving smile across his lips and open arms as he steps up to you. You do the same as before and fall, feeling how he catches you the same and lets you stand right back up afterwards. He pats your shoulder lightly and steps away, looking to the others to see who wants to go next.

»Me next.« Gaz states with a raised hand, standing at the same pose as the other two before. You can't help but crack a small, tiny smile at that before turning back around and falling back, trusting them all by now. The last one should be Ghost, and to be honest, it's somehow scary. Maybe it's his height or his aura, but there's no choice but to trust him. Eventually, you fall, back and he catches you just the same as the others, feeling as if he's more careful with you for whatever reason. But that could be just your mind hallucinating at this point.

The next station for this training session is more serious and requires more technique and skill. You're glad, it's something you're good at and won't be awkward to complete.

Knife melee. With fake combat knives. Each gets a combat knife to fight with and a randomly assigned partner. You get to be paired up with Gaz, and he shoots you a soft smile before standing in front of you to test out your true skills. Price is mostly there to watch over everyone and lead the practice, standing not too far off the big mat.

»You go first, I'll try to go easy too.« Gaz tells you with a small nod, waiting for you to attack and see how you'll do. Or maybe he's just too afraid to hurt you, knowing how young you are.

»Okay.« You think for a split second before going straight in, grabbing his right wrist with your left hand, pushing it out while moving the blade close to his neck. Gaz is briefly surprised at your attack, especially with how you went straight at him. But he's strong enough to bend his right wrist slightly and wrap his left arm over to grab his knife with his non-dominant hand. You didn't expect this to happen, being spooked for a moment by the sudden action of him wrapping his arm over you just so he has his knife in his free hand. He presses his knife against your stomach just enough for it to be touching your shirt and is about to swipe your feet off the ground.

You back up, trying to kick off the blade off his hand quickly, in which you fail. You don't want to hurt him, but you also know that it's just training and minor injuries are normal. You know it from the camp, but this feels different. You have... more respect for them. Getting back to reality, you're the one who sweeps his feet off the ground, kneeling over him and pressing your knee against his chest with your knife against his throat once more but not pressing onto him.

»Fine- you win.« He gives up and throws his hands up in defence, looking to you impressed. You get off him and give him a hand to stand back up, feeling like he went too soft on you on purpose.

»Was that all you had?« You ask before being able to think about your words longer, not meaning to sound rude. »What? Of course not. Told you I was going easy on you.« He shrugs with a small chuckle, dusting his pants off quickly before standing straight.

»Want me to attack first?«

»Fine-«

He's quick to land a kick to the side of your thigh, making you wince lightly, but you quickly regain your focus and step out of his way. You quickly kick him into his side instead, knocking out his breath briefly. Gaz realises how strong you actually are and decides to go harder on you. There's a sharp pain on your ribs before you feel the dull slice from his fake combat knife against your arm. You give him a rather irritated look before going in once more, slicing across his chest with your own fake knife before kicking him into his chest. He stumbles back, once more out of breath. It's your chance to get close to him and strike another attack, so you do just that. You step closer to him quickly and jab a few more slices against his ribs before kicking his legs in. He's on the ground and probably more out of breath than you. Gaz looks up to you and catches his breath before standing back up, not giving up yet.

»Where'd you learn that?« He questions almost confusedly and simultaneously thinks of another approach at you for his next attack. You shrug, not giving him an answer as you're studying his stance. He's about to cage you in, that's for sure, with his wide stance. That's got to be the most annoying technique for you, not liking how it feels like to be trapped or pinned by anyone. Moving your eyes back at his, you waste no time to kick against him once more, but he catches it.

He has your ankle in his hand and twists it enough for you to lose balance and fall to the ground. You huff and try to get back up quickly, but he's fast, kicking your knife out of your wrist.

Price watches you both fight, and he must admit you're quite strong. Beating Gaz twice? That's already impressive for him. He watches as you manage to fight yourself out of his pin, having him on the ground instead. You both fight like siblings at this point, at least that's how Price views it. He sees that Gaz is still trying to be gentle with you even though he doesn't need to. You're highly trained and fast, thinking logically as well. Meanwhile, Soap gets his ass beat by Ghost since he's trying to watch you fight but gets awfully distracted that way.

Price keeps most of his attention on you both anyway, being curious about how much longer Gaz will be gentle with you before being sick of losing every time. After losing for the fifth time, Gaz stops fighting for a moment.

»Wanna catch a break?«

»If you say so.« You agree and shrug lightly, having a light coat of sweat but being nowhere near done. You're still full of energy but also can't wait to sleep tonight.

»So, how do you like it on the base so far?« He asks, his tone friendly and voice smooth. His eyes are on you, hands on his hips.

»Yeah, it's... fine. Like a base.« There's just no way you can answer otherwise, not sure of how to answer it anyway. You press your lips together lightly, unsure of how to continue. Gaz is rather talkative, so you're grateful for that as he goes on, seemingly wanting to get to know you better.

»You should check out the mess hall too, the food‘s a bit plain, but it's cosy in there.« That's great information however, you do not know how to respond to that.

»Cool.« With a light nod and a more or less forced smile, glancing away shortly after. Gaz notices that you don't seem to talk much, having a similarity with Ghost on that. He accepts it however, and stretches his arms before suggesting another round which, you also agree on.

You're sweating way more now after the training session ended, Price saying that it's time to have lunch and just have a normal day afterwards. The sun is fully up, it's a warm day outside for once and there are no annoying people around you. Until Soap is approaching you on the way out from the training hall.

»Wanna eat lunch all together? It won't be boring, promise.« He suggests with a friendly smile and waits for your answer, coming off more excited than you.

»Uh, yeah. Where's the mess hall again?« You ask sheepishly since you have no clue how this building is laid out, let alone know where the exit is again. »Oh, you haven't been shown around, eh? Well, I'll just show ye around after lunch. The mess hall's on the first floor, 's pretty easy to find.«

Soap explains to you shortly, having faith in you that you won't get lost on your own. You simply nod back in response and make a mental note of where the mess hall should be, retreating back into your own bunk after taking a shower.

You're hesitant at first, having considered just skipping lunch, but you can't let the others hang. So, you make your way to the mess hall shortly after putting on new clothes, making sure to cover your neck once more. Stopping mid-change, you realise something. No one made comments or even looked at your scar earlier. You expected the total opposite, now trying to remember any moment that was close to some of your expectations, but there were none. Maybe, just maybe, they don't care. Not in the rude way, but in a way that they won't judge you. Well, considering the small but slightly more visible scar on Soap‘s chin, there's a chance they just don't want to pick on you with stuff they also have. Brushing away those thoughts, you enter the mess hall and are shortly after greeted with Soap. He stands out from the crowd with the way he waves at you, seeming to be excited to show you around or just have an addition like you on the team.

»Hungry? I don't know about you, but I am.«

His ways of starting a conversation with you are always a little strange. The way he is more energetic around you and is being overly friendly while trying to use 'modern slang' is slightly off-putting.

Ghost would be greater company at this point. You don't say anything, too caught up in the large hall and all the people around that are patiently getting their food for themselves.

»Well, there's where the food is, the trays and the utensils. Alrighty?«

»Alright.« You answer slightly unsure and look to where everyone is picking up their food, seeing that it won't be too difficult. Picking up a tray for yourself, a plate, and a few utensils, you make your way to the buffet. There's an option between a vegetarian meal that looks mostly... bland and another meal that doesn't look too bad. Soap is before you and loads his plate with the second option, grabbing a glass of water afterwards. You do the same, considering the vegetarian food seems too dry to even look at. Sitting down at a free table where Gaz is already seated, shooting a friendly smile your way.

His teammate sits down beside him and you on the opposite of them, taking a last look around the huge mess hall.

»How was the training for ye today?« Soap starts again while stuffing a bite into his mouth, ready to listen to whatever response you'll give.

»It was fine. Easier than at my camp.« Soap quirks his brow at you, asking further. »Easier? What'd you do at your camp, then?«

Ah, there it is. Finally, the burning question that seemed to have been on their minds since the day you arrived, even though they won't admit it verbally.

»Well, any kinds of things. We had a big variety and did everything a little every day.« You explain calmly, leaving out a lot of things for now and just giving out useful and light stuff. Gaz glances at you while eating his own meal, listening quietly to the conversation between you two.

»Everythin'? What was everythin'?«

God, he's giving you no chance to eat right now, is he? »Combat, shooting, underwater training, hostage saving, medical training... oh, and our stamina.« He nearly chokes on his food while you finally take your first bite, thinking it tastes quite good. For military food, it's actually quite good, it tastes fresh and is warm- »Everyday? Every focking day?«

»Language, McTavish...« A familiar, rough voice is heard from behind him, and he quickly glances back to see his Captain. Price takes a seat beside you, facing the two other teammates.

»Sorry, did you hear what she just said? That's like- that's... that should be illegal-«

»I know, Soap.«

He interrupts him again, giving him a hard look. He's either trying to stop him from saying something that could hurt you or is just fed up for some other reason.

»I'm glad we don't have such hard training here. That's it.« Soap realises that he may have gotten too far with his reaction and tries to be more calm and himself from now on. The problem is now that it's awkward because no one talks for a solid minute or two.

»Where is Ghost?« You speak up for the first time by yourself, not able to listen to the silence around the table any longer. Price answers your question calmly, seeing no reason to keep that from you.

»He eats alone, mostly. Or does some paperwork right now.« So, no one really knows what he's doing at breaks. That's something you could have expected from someone like him.

»Do you think his mask looks cool?« Gaz chimes in and looks at you almost amused, waiting for your answer. Soaps eyes also study you now, waiting curiously on your answer. Unsure of what to say, you answer them briefly.

»I mean, it's not bad.« Gaz shoots his teammate a quick look with a small nod, telling him something without saying anything. Soap sulks a little about your response, having hoped you'd say something more positive.

»Told you...« It's very quiet from Gaz and non-threatening, but you still heard it and now feel curious about what these two jokesters are talking about. Price continues to eat his own meal as he's not fascinated by their usual antics, seeing no reason to dig deeper and find out what they're on. That is until Soap notices your confused stare and wants to clear the confusion.

»We had a bet. I thought you'd find Ghost‘s mask cool, but wha'ever.« He shrugs and now has to pay five pounds to Gaz, having officially lost the bet. You can't help it but be amused by it, seeing how they're all trying to understand you, but know absolutely nothing about you but your age and name. They probably think you're like most teenagers, thinking in stereotypes, and you choose to just watch them trying to figure you out.

»He was actually quite scary at first.« You mumble, carefully trying out talking more to them and letting them get to know you more. It's something new for you to be able to be so open and casual with new people that are much older than you. Even though Soap is about ten years older than you, it still seems a lot. It's a whole decade, either way.

»Well, yeah, Ghost has his way to scare people off. But don't take it personally, he's got a good soul.« You glance at Price saying that, reassuring you about Ghost.

What kind of name is that anyway?

»Hm, depends on how you see it. He's only friendly to people he likes. Like a cat.« Gaz shrugs, adding his opinion on Ghost. You're all lucky he's not there with you right now, considering that he would shoot death glares at everyone. You listen to them, being invested in their opinions and views on him since you know nothing about him. »But he doesn't scratch us. So, that's good.« Price jokes, probably still trying to reassure you mostly and not let you get spooked. Eventually, after some more exchanges, Soap is standing up and wants to finally show you around the base. You accept and follow him out, curious to see the whole base and not get lost from now on. He walks through the building and shows you the important parts first: showers and bunks, training rooms and halls, shooting range, going on about the storage rooms, and eventually making your way outside the base. There's a small park attached to the base, great for taking small walks.

»Wanna go for a round?«

»I don't see why not.« You can't help it but still want to add that respective 'sir' at the end of a sentence. It feels like disrespecting him, but they made it clear how open and friendly you can talk to them way earlier.

Walking besides Soap is somehow calming, not needing to talk much when he does most of the talking. »You handled the surprise attack well, yesterday. Just try to warn us before firing, though.« You nod and look away slightly embarrassed, knowing you forgot to give them a sign before doing something like that.

»Sorry, thought too quick.« »'S fine, I'm actually impressed. Were ye taught that back in yer camp?« Soap can't help but be curious and ask questions, making sure to be careful with his wording.

»Yes, kind of. It's always smarter to be meaner to the enemies, so they don't have a chance.« Soap shrugs lightly, thinking about that statement. »Well, yeah... but aggressive approach is not always the best, you know?« He eyes you for a moment, continuing to walk beside you through the small park.

»It really depends on the situation and enemy, there.« You reply back after a second of considering his words, not realising that you once again impressed him.

a/n: came out a bit floppy, but the next part will most likely be better, pwomise :33

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I'm clearing out my draft folder again.

Steve and Robin were running through Starcourt, high as fuck when Steve skidded to a stop in front of Eddie Munson.

"You look like Eddie Munson," Steve giggled.

"Steve!" Robin said with wide eyes. "I think that is - "

"Man, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked.

"Funny story, can you keep a secret from Eddie?" Steve said seriously.

"Sure," Eddie grinned.

"No, Steve, that's - ,"

"ANYWAY," Steve rolled his eyes at Robin. "I had this crush on him in freshman year. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Uh - are you guys on drugs?" Eddie asked.

"YES! But we didn't want to," Robin said. "They wanted information."

"Aw, fuck, there's this guy that works with Rick. Real sketchy. I told him he needs to let him go before he gets Rick into trouble, but does Rick listen to me? Nah!" Eddie exclaimed. "Look, whatever the hell he gave you should wear off. Not all drug dealers are like that. What we pitch to you is what you get. What you want is what you get. Okay, let's get you guys to the bathroom and try to get it out of your system. Come on."

"I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said with a grin. "Shh! Wait here. I'll tell you how it goes."

Steve ran off with Robin on his tail. Eddie cursed and chased after them. They got distracted by the lights hanging overhead and started spinning around, gazing at them in awe.

"You guys do not want to do that," Eddie said, and they started heaving before they ran off in the direction of the bathrooms. "And that's why."

He ran off after them and into the bathroom room, where they vomited into the toilets. Eddie knelt down next to him and stroked Steve’s hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Once Steve was done, he leaned his head into Eddie's touch and closed his eyes, letting Eddie stroke his hair. He whined when Eddie moved away and saw him go to the sink. He came back with a wet, soapy paper towel and started cleaning Steve’s face.

"I guess I'm chopped liver," Robin said. "It's okay, I'll get it myself."

Steve laughed and made a face at the taste in his mouth. Eddie clapped a hand on his back.

"I'll be right back," Eddie said.

He rushed off to buy a couple of toothbrushes and toothpaste. He also picked up what he thought was lip balm. When he returned, he he heard them talking. They were clearly bonding, solidifying their working relationship into a friendship. Or maybe something more considering how Robin was talking about watching Steve. Shit, maybe Eddie should leave. They were talking about someone else now.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl," Steve said.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"Oh."

Or maybe not. Oh God, Robin was coming out to Steve, and Eddie was overhearing it. Oh God, what should he do? He was frozen to the spot. Steve was going on about how Tammy Thompson was a total dud and how she sounded like a Muppet. Eddie snorted. Yeah, that was true.

"I can't believe you're making fun of my crush," Robin laughed. "What about yours?"

"Hey, at least Eddie can sing," Steve replied.

Fuck! Okay, so he had been telling the truth then.

"How do you know he can sing?" Robin asked.

"My car broke down near the Hideout one night, and I heard him singing. He was playing with his band, Corroded Coffin," Steve said. "They were really good. I was going to go talk to him, but I kind of thought that the drummer was his girlfriend, but that's crazy. I mean, guys and girls can just be friends, right?"

"I like to think so," Robin replied.

There was a long pause in their conversation, which gave Eddie plenty of opportunity to burst through the door.

"Okay, so I have a green toothbrush and a pink one," Eddie said. "Which one do you guys want?"

"Ooh, pink," Steve said and they stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Eddie said in amusement.

He watched as they brushed their teeth. Well, he mostly watched Steve.

"So, how much of our conversation did you hear?" Steve asked, setting his toothbrush on the sink.

"What? I didn't hear anything. Were you guys talking about something?" He asked.

"Seriously?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't hear anything that you guys didn't want me to hear," Eddie said.

"I don't think you're the kind of guy who would spill the beans on us," Robin said. "At least, I hope not so you don't have to deny anything."

"Ooh, lip gloss," Steve plucked it out of Eddie's hand. "May I?"

"Yeah, I thought it was lip balm," Eddie frowned. "So, have you always known that you liked guys?"

"Not just guys, girls too," Steve said as he started applying the lip gloss to his pouty lips. "I'm bisexual."

"Did you always know you were bisexual?" Eddie asked as he watched Steve’s lips intently.

"Well, yes and no," Steve said. "It was more like a slow build-up to my realization. Like more and more evidence started piling up that I could no longer deny."

"So, it wasn't like you looked at someone one day and realized 'shit, I'm into dudes, now?" Eddie asked as his eyes raked over the swell of his ass.

"It's always kind of been there. Why?" Steve asked as he closed the lip gloss.

"No reason," Eddie blushed, looking at his shoes.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed. "You woke him up."

"What?" Steve asked.

"You woke him up!" Robin exclaimed, and Eddie quickly hid behind his hair.

"It's the outfit!" Eddie shrieked.

"So, what is it about the outfit that does it for you?" Steve asked.

"It's everything! The socks! The shorts that fill out your ass fantastically, by the way! And the shirt with the red bow tie in front," Eddie said. "It's just the whole fucking outfit."

"You should see me in the hat," Steve said in amusement.

Suddenly, Dustin and Erica burst into the bathroom before Steve could say anything else.

"There you are!" Dustin shrieked.

"Hey, could you give us a minute?" Steve asked Robin.

Robin quickly started ushering the kids out of the bathroom.

"But, Steve?!" Dustin asked.

"Out!" Robin yelled and shut the door behind them.

"I like you and as badly as I want to kiss you right now. . . I don't want it to be after I vomited in a bathroom. Plus, you still need to figure things out. If you still want me a few days from now. Call me. I have to deal with these kids I babysit. So go home and think things over," Steve said softly.

There was something that Steve wasn't telling him, but Eddie knew that he was also right. Besides, it was late. Steve placed his hands on Eddie's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. It felt much like Steve was promising him something. Steve pulled away and started moving toward the door.

"Hey, Steve?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm definitely going to call you," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and walked out of the bathroom, leaving them both with hope for the future.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

~

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

~

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

~

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  

“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."

"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

[dollyyss]

The main four failing NNN

No Nut November. Just because it’s November and I think it would be funny :3

Established relationship. All characters are 18+

Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman.

Kyle Broflovski:

-He doesn’t actually have a hard time, in some way he participates and in some ways he doesn’t? He just doesn’t act on his urges as often as most would? Basically he knows to control himself.

-He finds it a bit amusing that you’re so “concerned” about it, honestly it’s not that big of a deal it��s just some stupid challenge.

-he curses himself for calling it stupid because now he’s sat on his bed with you between his legs staring up at him so prettily.

“Curse you y/n” Kyle groans. It’s not that this challenge was hard it’s the fact that you’re his girlfriend.. and he obviously has needs. He loves you for you obviously but the hormones of a teenage boy can be wild. “We’re supposed to be watching Ike..” you sigh softly and rub his thighs “he’s asleep it’s fine, ky if you don’t want to do this just tell me, if you really don’t want to fail.” You smirked gently and looked up at him, he gave you a sassy look. “Fail? I’m.. it’s a stupid challenge anyway, just.. just do it.” He stuttered gently and ran his hands through his curls before setting his hands to prop him up properly. Your fingers were quick to dance around the hem of his boxers, looking up at the ginger as you took out his length. Your eyes widened, you shouldn’t be in shock as you and Kyle have done things before, but they aren’t wrong about what they say about tall skinny nerdy boys.. they’re big. He looked to the side before side eyeing you and clearing his throat. “You stare a lot.” You quickly look up at him blushing “S-sorry sometimes it still shocks me..” he groaned and placed his hand on the back of your neck gently, rubbing his thumb on your skin “shut up” his hand found its way to your cheek, holding the side of your face to bend down to place a kiss to your lips, his member twitching in your hands. He was always so gentle.

Stan marsh:

-.. he’s trying so desperately to not fail. He wants to show you he can go without that stuff. But god does he fail so quickly. Stan never wants you to think he only wants you for sex, never. But he can’t help himself when you look so cute sitting on his lap while he plays games. Your arms wrapped around his neck, legs on either side of his waist while your head snuggles into the crook of his neck.

-he holds it out for so long but it all comes crashing down on him when you’re wiggling in his lap, nibbling on his ear while he try’s to keep quiet and focus on his game with Kyle.

“Baby, you’re moving too much..” he mutes his mic for a moment before going back to his game, while one hand was on his keyboard walking around the game he was playing His other hand rubbed your back. Your eyes peered up at him, smiling softly “sorry” you whispered. You laid your head back down on his shoulder, thighs softly squeezing either side of legs, your arms wrapped around his neck and played with the back of his hair. It wasn’t long before you moved again your clothed heat against his crotch making him clear his throat. It was when you whispered that he knew you wanted something. “..I’m trying not to fail..” you let out a soft huff and poured visibly “you wouldn’t even fail for me?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes causing him to lean back in his chair a bit “baby c’mon don’t say that.. you’re gonna make me feel bad..” you let out a soft laugh at his comment and watch him go back to focusing on his match. You thought for a moment.. “we don’t have to do anything I just wanna, feel you.” His eyes immediately snapped back to you, staring at each other until he was lifting you up so you slightly hovered over him, his hands quickly unzipping his pants and pulling them down as well as his boxers so his member was freely revealed, you were quick to push your pj shorts and panties to the side to sink down on him. Stan lets out a low groan, his two hands gripping onto your waist “relax baby” his lips find the corner of yours before reaching back for his keyboard and mouse and letting you bounce on him.

Kenny McCormick:

-fails without FAILURE MF IS FAILING THE MINUTE HE GETS A HOLD OF YOU OR EVEN HEARS YOU SPEAK. HE’S DONE FOR.

-everyone laughs at him because they can’t understand how someone can be so fucking horny, but they know Kenny would never participate and if he did he’d be failing the minute it his 12 am November 1st. That’s not what exactly happened but it did happy two days after. You had him staying over at your place and when your ass rubbed against him whilst you both laid down in your bed.. he was immediately taking your pants off, lips latched to your neck and thrusting into you like he was so desperate for it.

“Kennyyy” Kenny’s smile grew wider as he watched you tiredly walk over to him your arms open, eyes half closed and standing in his black slightly ripped tshirt. He smiled wide to show his missing tooth further in. His arms opened wider, letting you fall into his chest and move enough so your back was against him, ass comfortably sat against his crotch. He was quick to pause for a moment, looking at your bedroom door and looking back at the back of your head. His elbow propped him up so his eyes stared down at half your face. “What cha doing” kenny spoke in a soft playful tone. You cocked a brow slowly moving your head enough to look at him fully “laying down? What are you doing?” Not much of a verbal answer was needed when you could feel his member growing against you. “Kenny. You’re not even four days in and you’re gonna fail?” You question giving him a jokingly disappointed look. He looked shocked, but played along with you “how dare you think I Kenny McCormick would participate in such a challenge, that’s just not me” he looked at you again, chuckling. “Besides.. I can’t help myself when you’re pressed against me.” His hand slid between your legs pulling you much closer, fingers sliding under your pj pants and panties. “Mmm.. feeling up for it babe” you only shook your head playfully and lifted your bottom half a bit so he had room to pull down your clothing, revealing your puffy heat. He was quick to do the same quickly pushing himself inside and biting your shoulder. “Think it would be funny if you told the guys I was able to last through the challenge.” “Oh my god shut up and start moving”

Eric Cartman:

-surprisingly he does fairly well. Like actually super well out of all of them, he’s the one the can last most likely to the very end. It may be just be to spite Kyle, or to show him he can do things better then him.. but still he holds off for quite a while.

-if I’m being honest I don’t think he fails at all. Though he’ll beg you to show him things just to settle him, though you always refuse because he’d still be failing by looking at your naked.

“Just one peak” you sigh and look up at him, the movie in the background now paused “Eric if you ask me one more fucking time, you are seeing my boobs and that’s final” he looks back relatively shocked but rolls his eyes “jeez, someone’s got a stick up their ass. It’s not a fail if I just see them” “ERIC” he puts his hands in the air in defence and leans back into the couch “alright alright god damn, chill out woman” you cross your arms and look back to the movie to unpause it, you’re now about half way through when Cartman puts his arm around your waist, fingers dancing under it and on your skin “so like I don’t get to see like at all? Not even for a second?” “ERIC FUCKING CARTMAN NO”

[hhoneylemon]

𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

warnings: bad writing perhaps

How Does He Act With A Crush?

he’s so cute when he has a crush. he finds excuses to hang out with you, he’s nicer to you than he is to anyone. he does his best to charm you with his ‘bad boy’ persona and then drops it to just be that soft funny guy. he’ll let you borrow his books and he’ll read any you recommend, he lets you borrow his cds, sneaks you free stuff from luke’s, probably steals something of yours to remember you by when he’s sitting alone.

Love Languages

i think jess is an acts of services and gift giving kind of guy. he’ll annotate books for you, give you books, drive you around, carry things for you. he’ll let you drag him places as long as it makes you happy too. he keeps your best interests in his heart. he struggles with voicing his feelings. he’s physically affectionate, but it’s mostly hand holding and kissing.

Gifts

he definitely listens to you when you talk. he learns what your favorite candy is to randomly give to you when you’re hanging out. he gives you books based off your taste and he expects you to tell him what it was about and if you liked it or not. he buys you cds and records of your favorite artists and does his best to find collectors items too. has bought you little antique trinkets that are genuinely adorable.

Dates

like i said, he takes mental notes on what you talk about, he’s a great listener. if you mention having seen a new restaurant open he’ll take you there for dinner. he enjoys taking you out for ice cream (there’s ice cream at the diner, but no cones), taking you book shopping, record shopping, seeing a bad movie to make fun of it (at home or in theatre), going to concerts or small gigs. he loves just walking around with you and talking too. keeps a hand in your back pocket or an arm around your waist. if you ask him to a town event he’ll complain about it and say no for a while but if you keep asking he’ll probably say yes, or he’ll come up with an alternative date.

Kisses

when you first start dating he genuinely cannot stop kissing you. stops you mid conversation to kiss you and then goes back in his same position to listen to you continue talking. kisses your cheek when he really wants to kiss you but you’re ranting. kisses you to shut you up. of you want him to shut up, it's effective on him as well. kiss him and you can get you whatever you want. he’d give you the world if you asked, anyways.

Random

he does magic tricks for you!! sometimes your brain hurts from reading so much or you’re studying and you want a break so he busts out his cards and just does some tricks for you. sometimes he’ll take you to the lake and you two sit on the bridge and sit in silence, holding hands and looking at the water while thinking about whatever. whenever he’s upset, this is his favorite thing to do with you. he honestly doesn’t peg me as the jealous type. unless you outright hang out with an ex or a guy who clearly has a crush on you, he won’t care. he trusts you. he’ll ho to parties with you, but he makes sure both of you steer clear from drinking. while yes, he would normally drink at a party, you’re here and he doesn’t want to worry you and he certainly doesn’t want you drinking. he would stop smoking for you if you asking him to!! sometimes you to sit in the park/town square and he’ll be reading on the grass while you’re sitting on a bench and his head is between your knees so you can play with his hair. it calms him down, and also it’s fun to mess up his hair without his knowing. he offers his jacket to you when it’s cold and then you get to watch him start shivering before he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close to him for a bit of warmth. he takes care if you before himself!! if you say you need help he’s immediately coming to your rescue. stuck on a homework question? he’ll figure it out, don’t worry. your car won’t run? he’ll figure it out, don’t worry. your sink won’t stop dripping? he’s no plumber, but it shouldn’t be too hard. pet names are weird to him, but a small ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ will leave his lips inbetween kisses or when he’s about to softly correct you on something. whenever you talk he’s looking at you with the softest eyes, a small smile on his lips. he seriously doesn’t understand what he did to interest you in him. sometimes he’s mean bc he’s mean to everyone and it’s his defense mechanism against the world. blows you off when he’s upset but the longer you’re together the better he gets at communicating he’s upset and letting you try to improve his mood. please hug him and let him hold you and kiss your hair it’ll do wonders for him. he’s half hopeless romantic half asshole. he’s such a loser boyfriend. the beginning of the relationship is puppylove and then it leads to real love and he doesn’t know how to handle it. it’s amazing but scary.

he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to tell you because he’s never been loved back before.

[atlabeth]

Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 

and thankfully, that all goes okay. 

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 

But post-ball is rough on both of you. 

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 

yeah girlie I wonder why 

Luke is. not a great dancer 

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 

“Trust me.” 

And he does, somehow. 

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 

“And lift!” 

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 

“It truly is.” 

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you are my knight.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 

[or0ch1maru]

So lately I’ve been noticing I get sudden urges to bite things I think are cute. I think it’s called cute aggression? But anywho, how do you think the Akatsuki members would react to their S/O biting them out of the blue as a means of showing affection. Or someone who doesn’t communicate in the normal way and uses more touchy-feely means of communication?

Omg this is so freaking cute. What’s funny is, I’ve been having the same urges too. One day I’m like let me sink my teeth into Tobi’s arm(only if he was real) but on a real note, I’m feeling sm better. I’m still stuffed up but that can’t be helped lol

Warnings: mention of head, sexual innuendoes(just had to spice this up just a lil bit)

Hidan:

•idk why or when this thought came into my mind but I fully believe Hidan gets turned on when bitten. (Please tell me at least one of you see that too)

•anyway, when he figures out it’s an affectionate thing, you know damn well he’d show off his bite marks from you with pride.

•if he hasn’t felt your teeth sink into him at least once a day, he’ll get worried. Feeling that suddenly you don’t care for him. And he’ll cling to you until you bite him or at least give him some kind of reassurance. (He’s a big softy)

Kakuzu:

•would be caught off guard at first and will most likely hit you with the good ole’ “the hell you doing?” Question. Kakuzu would watch with a raised eyebrow as you explain your reasonings but shrug it off

•just like Hidan, he wouldn’t care who saw the bite marks, or what assumptions people would come up with when noticed. He’d be content that you have your own special way of letting him know you love him

•Kakuzu would purposely go without his cloak, or shirt for that matter, leaving his arms fully exposed just for you. His large arms would wrap themselves around you, pinning you to him just to feel your teeth in his skin longer(would genuinely enjoy the pain, a good hurt he’d call it)

Konan:

•would let out a soft whimper or even a moan when she feels your teeth sink into her skin. Cheeks flushed when she discovered the reason behind your sudden chomp

•really enjoys when you bite her forearms or collar bone area. Despite your constant apologies for making her bleed once(it left a scar) Konan loves it. Runs her fingers over the spot daily. A reminder of her love waiting at home for her

•the act of biting May come off aggressive or sexual to others, but Konan considers it a kind and intimate gesture. A love without having to use words all the time makes her heart flutter and loves actions as she isn’t one to talk too much

Pain:

•his curiosity is peaked the very first time you do it, he goes over the many possibilities of what it could mean. He gives you a soft smile and a gentle caress when you tell him “you’re cute, can’t help it” as an answer

•loves, and I mean LOVES when you bite near his chakra rods. His skin is so sensitive there and it just does something to him. Sometimes you might end up with your face buried into the mattress or better yet, in his neck, sinking your teeth into him as he fucks you like his life depended on it

•loses his mind when he looks down and sees you look up at him with your adorable doe eyes while your teeth are locked in. (Your favorite place to hangout is under his desk while he works on planning missions and tasks so time to time youll chomp his thigh or the one hand that sits in his lap)

Tobi:

•lets out a yelp the first time it happens, catching the poor boy completely off his guard. “W-what was that for senpai?” He’d stutter out, looking down at you through the eye hole of his mask. “You think I’m cute? Really? Aww you’re so kind to Tobi”

•after that first time, he’ll encourage you to do it. Wanting it multiple times a day sometimes. On other occasions, he’ll tease you, and make you work for it. “You want to bite Tobi? You oughta catch me first” he’d explain before bolting down a random corridor

•now, if you happen to catch him when he’s in a mood, Tobi will turn to Obito so quickly. “Baby thinks I’m cute eh? Why don’t you show me how cute you really think I am” his tone turns almost stern as he guides you by the neck until you’re on your pretty little knees in front of him, the tip of his cock prodding the back of your throat

Zetsu:

•would be very confused at first, and would take a while to process the whole thing. “You really think I’m cute? But why bite me? That’s kinda backwards isn’t it?” Black Zetsu would ask. “It’s a form of a compliment. I understand now” white Zetsu would coo towards you

•Zetsu would pull you into his lap whenever he’s feeling a bit more needy, giving you silent permission to sink your lil teeth into him.

•wouldn’t care where you bite him, as long as you’re careful/gentle when it comes to his leaf’s? Pinchers? Prefers you stayed below his neck. Arms, chest, thighs, are acceptable places to him.

Kisame:

•just like Hidan, would probably assume it’s you Initiating sex, would be turned on right away and would most likely end up fucking you that first time. Would feel bad that it was a sign of affection and he turned it sexual.

•LOVES feeling you dig your teeth into his biceps. And has asked for you to make him bleed. Wants his upper arms to be littered in cute teeth scars. Kisame adores physical touch, and truly cherishes any form of intimacy you give him even if to others it may come of bizarre

•isn’t worried about being vocal. Will let out groans, grunts, and the occasional moan whenever you sink your pearly whites into his skin.

Itachi:

•realized from the very beginning what your bites meant and he fell in love with you all over again. Apart from having someone love him the way he’s craved it all his life, the way you SHOW him love is what sends him to the moon

•plays with your hair, rubs your back, or caresses the side of your face, as sit against him with his flesh between your teeth

•finds your biting to be angelic almost. The feelings that wash over him when you show your love for him makes him euphoric

Sasori:

•like Zetsu, he would be kinda confused at first, also trying to understand the science behind ‘cuteness aggression’

•Sasori would become concerned, hoping you don’t hurt your jaw or fuck up your teeth(since the man is a living puppet I couldn’t imagine him being considered ‘soft) but let’s just say he was soft and flesh like, he would be intrigued by the feeling

•I feel like he wouldn’t get turned on per se, but would definitely get some kind of thrill from it. Would love when you focus mostly on his neck or shoulders

Deidara:

•like Kisame, our explosive babe would be rather vocal about it. But he’d be more whiny. Whimpers, soft cries, whines would slip from his lips every time he feels your lips touch his skin and your teeth dig into him(deidara gets flustered so quickly when it comes to you)

•would be down and into the idea from the very beginning. Doesn’t even question you, just shrugs and encourages you.

•if you happen to bite him and he gets in the mood, which happens time to time because our baby is so enamored with you, i definitely think he mouth hands would come into play somehow.

Orochimaru

•who are we kidding? This man is INTO it. He loves sinking his fangs into you in general so when you turn around and do the same back, he’s so ready to put a ring on it.

•would beg and plea for you to leave scars on his skin and make him bleed. Wants you to nip and bite in places that are visible, but also doesn’t mind if you go for his chest

•his hands would find your hair, or would gently stroke your back whenever you decide to grace him with your biting. Orochimaru would feel honored that you find him cute enough that words can’t express it, that you have to do something physical to show it

I hope you enjoy this! I can’t wait to be sent more and more requests😩I’m loving everything I’ve been sent in! Love you all😘😘

[bellewintersroe]

hiiiii! can I get something about Lando but reader is Charles or Carlos 's sister? Even just fluff. thank u❤️

thank you for your request!! really in my Lando feels atm fuming after qualifying but it’s fineeee, I love this idea sm I’ve been thinking about it all day <3 <3 You’re Carlos’ younger sister who’s English isn’t so good, but somehow Mr Lando Norris who’s had an eye on you for years has you under his wing, much to Carlos’s surprise.

warnings: none, I just hope this makes sense because I am half asleep writing this.

“Hello.” A British accent filled your ears, causing your head to turn at the familiar voice, hair bouncing with your movement. Stood besides where you sat was Lando Norris, one of your brothers close friends whom he drove with for many years. Your lips immediately tugged up, blinking in surprise at how much he’d grown, despite the fact he was still a year older than you.

“Lando, hello!” As you stood, Lando felt his heart beat in a funny way, followed by the sensation sinking down to his stomach. Butterflies. He knew he had the hots for you, Carlos’s younger sister, but now he felt nervous?!

“How are you?” You greeted him in a friendly hug, wrapping your arms tightly around the taller boy. You were positive there was a time when you both reached the same height.

“Ummm.” You began, unsure of what he just spoke. Your English was nowhere near as good as your brother or sisters, hell even your dads. “Are you good?” He repeated as your smile widened, offering him an amused beam.

“Good? I am good.” You’d nodded, trying to think the words in English to ask him how he was. “¿Cómo estás?” you’d furrowed your brows, scanning over Lando’s gentle eyes. They still glistened the exact same way they always did, but here now, he somehow looked 10x more handsome than he ever had before.

“Huh?” He frowned a little, at your giggle, his lips tugged right back up. “Good?” You asked, pointing towards him.

“Ohhhh, yes, yes I am good! Are you here to watch Carlos?” Your head cocked to the side, a little confused, offering him a nervous grin. “Ahhh, okay, let me just-” he pulled out his phone, whipping out Google translate. Recognising what it was you immediately laughed out loud.

“What? I want to talk to you?” He giggled innocently, the words not computing in your mind.

“No tengo idea de lo que estás diciendo ahora.” (I have no idea what you are saying right now).

Lando handed you the phone over, playing the Spanish out loud. Google translate distorted the sentences slightly, but it made perfect sense.

I just wanted to talk to you, I haven’t seen you in over a year.

Lando watched you chuckle as you typed back your sentence, eyes fixated to your beauty. Every time you’d come to watch a race or a practice he always sought you out, conversation was difficult, something that frustrated him, he always wanted to get to know you better than what he knew surface level.

how sweet, you should come sit, I hurt my ankle the other week so can’t sit down for long. I can’t believe it’s been a year!

Lando glanced down noticing your bandaged up ankle to which you pursed your lips at playfully before letting out an “ow!” Sound, just to prove how much it hurt. “Okay.” He nodded, sitting besides you on the sofa’s of the paddock.

“What’re you doing in here anyway? Can’t see much of the race from here?” He swallowed, knees knocking against your own bare ones. “¿qué?” Lando cursed, forgetting every now and then he couldn’t just blurt out whatever he wanted.

“It’s ok.” You smiled, using some of the English you knew. The two of you made eye contact, his phone looking extra large in your hands, fingertips brushing against his own. Lando swore you were flirting with him, you were making him feel nervous and Lando never felt nervous around girls.

Time had passed. Neither of you knew how long, but the conversation had flowed so much over Google translate, Lando’s arm resting comfortably behind you. “My English… is… shit.” You copied his curse word. “Yes!!!” Lando squeaked in amusement, slugging an arm over your shoulder and squeezing you.

“Shit, fuck.” You cursed, placing a hand on his leg to stabilise your movement. You saw how Lando’s smirked, licking his lips as his eyes dropped down to where your hand slid off slowly. “Now you’re gonna tell your brother I’ve taught you all this shit.”

“Shit?” You repeated in confusion, eyes trailing down his front, back over his lips. Landon thought he’d melt on the spot under your intense gaze. He was trying to meet it back equally as flirtatiously but he swore his nerves just got in the way. If it wasn’t for Google translate he was positive it would be much sexier.

you’re going to tell your brothers I’ve been teaching you to swear “No!” You exclaimed, laughing and nudging his arm playfully. “Please don’t.”

“O tal vez lo haga y te meta en problemas...” (Or maybe I will and get you in trouble). Your Spanish was so effortlessly sexy to Lando, he always loved a girl who spoke in a foreign accent, maybe that obsession started somewhere between meeting you and speaking to you, but he’d never openly admit that.

“I don’t even know what you’re saying.” He laughed, shaking his head, fingers trailing over your shoulder slightly. You shared a moment of amused eye contact, heart racing at the painfully sexual, intense moment, Lando thought you were going to kiss him. That was until your eyes trailed behind him slightly. The fluttering in his chest stopped when you started giggling, your brother stood behind with a confused expression. “Really?” Carlos sassed, Lando turning up over his shoulder. “Oh hey man.” He spoke casually, too casually. You laughed without even knowing what was being said. “Are you having fun?” Carlos questioned towards Lando, narrowing his eyes at his best friend whose arm was slung over his little sister.

“Y/n, ¿No me di cuenta de que eras tan cercano a Lando?” (I did not realise you were so close to Lando?) The sound of his name mixed with a foreign language he couldn’t understand had him confused. His arm slipped back onto his own lap after realising Carlos was looking rather too inquisitively. Ok maybe he was making moves on his sister, but who could blame him?!

“Sólo estábamos poniéndonos al día. Muchas gracias señor entrometido!” (We were just having a catch up. Thank you very much mr nosy!) Carlos laughed at his younger sister who’d already turned back to the Brit sat besides her, she looked completely enthralled by him, giving him all kinds of heart eyes. Carlos knew he was a nice guy but it was weird seeing his baby sister like this with his closest friend.

“How are you talking?” Carlos then asked Lando who looked a little confused, left out of the conversation prior. “Google translate.” He snickered, waving his phone up. Carlos nodded at the inventiveness. “Ah. Nice.” It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a little awkwardness that lingered as the three of you kinda sat there. Truthfully, Lando and you were waiting for your brothers departure, leaving you be, to continue your conversation- if you could call it that.

“¿Necesitas que te lleven a casa? ¿Me voy ahora?” (Do you need a lift home, I am going now). Carlos then asked you, knowing he was your only option of a ride home, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment. You were positive Carlos saw it written all over your face, so did Lando.

“What did you say?” Lando questioned. “Oh, I just asked if she wanted a ride home. I brought her.”

“I mean… I can drive her back. We’re having a good time.” He cheeked only a little. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to drive her back. Winding up Carlos in the process was a little funny though.

“Este idiota dijo que puede llevarte a casa. ¿Quieres hacer eso?” (This idiot said he can drive you home. Would you wanna do that?) Your laugh back to Lando caused him to frown back to Carlos who was too laughing. “Hey, what did you say to her? What did you call me? What did he call me?”

“Idiota.” Carlos repeated, teasing again as you laughed in amusement at your brothers antics.

“Me quedaré aquí y me llevarán a casa. Gracias, Lando” (I will stay here and get a lift home. Thank you Lando).

Hearing his words roll off your lips caused his lips to tug up again knowing you’d agreed. “That’s ok.” His tone was much softer rather than when he spoke to Carlos, or anybody else for that matter. With a quick goodbye and a second eyeing up of the boy chatting up his sister, Carlos disappeared, leaving the two of you be again.

You felt a little nervous, for no particular reason. So when his eyes were on you again you’d begun giggling out of nowhere. “You are cute you know that?” Whatever he said, you liked the sound of that…

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x girlfriend fem!reader

Summary: You want to help your boyfriend with his prank but it goes horribly wrong (happy ending)

Prompt: angst - "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done."

thank you for requesting @doting-dov3 🤍! this did indeed help with writers block ;)

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

James takes his pranks very seriously. 

You know this, his best friends know this, hell all of Hogwarts knows this. Usually, he keeps you separate from his pranks because he knows you aren't into them that much anyway, and that's never bothered you because him and the other Marauders have been doing their pranks longer than you've been dating him. 

But, around James's seventeenth birthday, you had wanted to join in on a prank. You wanted to show your loving boyfriend that you liked the silly, sometimes reckless, side of him as much as the charming maturity he'd grown into.

So, you wanted to surprise him and you asked Sirius if you could add your flair to his enchanted fireworks. Sirius had warned you that it wasn't a good idea and that you shouldn't do this, but you dismissed his worries.

Your idea was funny.  

However, when the charm you had enchanted into the fireworks, sent them into a frenzy that countered the original spell James had used and changed their direction from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor one, coincidentally landing over James and his friends, the pink powder you'd infused the fireworks with suddenly wasn't so funny anymore.   

The Marauders and a few other students jump from their seats and everyone in the Great Hall erupts into laughter. You stand as well, your eyes wide, proving your involvement in the mess.

You rush over as Sirius and Remus pat their robes and James shakes out his hair, his cheeks tainted almost as pink as the powder on his skin. 

"I told you not to touch that," Sirius hisses, glaring at you as he points at the fireworks, "Now look what you've done!" 

You flinch, feeling helpless as James's head turns to you, and his voice is strained when he asks, "You did this? You messed with the prank?" When you nod, he narrows his eyes and grabs your hand, practically dragging you out of the Great Hall and into one of the bathrooms. 

"James," you spin around, desperately pointing your wand at him to clean him up. 

Your boyfriend's eyes round and he snatches the wand from your hand. "Woah, haven't you done enough!?" he snaps, clearly furious as he turns to look in the mirror. He touches the now, weirdly gooey pink substance on his cheeks. "What the fuck is this, Y/n?"

"It turns into glue," you whisper, ashamed, "It wasn't for you, obviously! I enchanted the powder in the fireworks and it must have changed the trajectory. I didn't mean to mess up the direction, I promise. I just wanted to help!"

"Help!?" James grits, glaring at you, and then turns back to the mirror as he removes more glue and shakes it from his hands and into the sink. "You wanted to help? This isn't helping! You know almost better than anyone I don't like when people mess with my pranks and look what you did!" 

You hold in your tears. He's making you feel stupid but you refuse to cry because of this. "I was trying to do something good. To help you," you plead and walk to him, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to upset you, I promise."

"You humiliated me and my friends." James pulls his hand away and looks at you again. "In front of everyone." 

Your lip trembles. "I'm really sorry."

James pauses and he stares at himself in the mirror for a minute. Finally, he lets out a tense sigh and nods towards your wand. He'd put it on the edge of the sink and you move closer, taking it in your hand.

Your eyes are shiny with tears as you wave your wand in front of him and clean him up. James is silent and he feels better once he feels clean.

"You wanted to help?" he whispers, needing more of an explanation.

"Well, it was sort of an early birthday present because I wanted to show you I like your pranks a-and I support them most of the time," you add in a whisper, your cheeks feeling warmer, "so I wanted to surprise you and join in. I didn't know I was gonna mess everything up," you ramble as some tears escape from your eyes, your hands shaking. 

James's facial expression softens now and he holds his hands over yours so they don't shake. He feels like a prick now, realizing your intentions had been nothing but good and kind, just like you.

"Hey, I'm sorry I shouted at you," he says and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "It's okay. I understand you didn't mean any harm."

You nod and he leans in, kissing under your eye, halting your tear on its descent. "Dry those tears, dove, everything's all right. Next time, just ask. If you wanna join me in doing some pranks, all you have to do is ask, okay, my sweet girl?"

James nuzzles into your cheek and kisses under your other eye as he adds with a smile, "Didn't think you liked the pranks, my love. I thought you found them mean."

You sniffle. "Sometimes they are."

James laughs against your hair as he kisses the top of your head. "Adding pink goo to the fireworks doesn't count as mean then? How saintly of you," he teases. 

You scrunch your nose and look away, your cheeks all warm. "Um, no? It wasn't meant to be mean, it's just funny."

James grins and leans in to kiss your lips this time. "My baby can mean," he ignores your desperate attempts to convince him it hadn't been slightly messed up to want to pour some pink guck on a group of Slytherins, no matter how horrible they were themselves.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you how to prank properly," he whispers in a promise, "It takes time and practice and you have to plan it all out and—" James begins to ramble back to the Common Room and you can't help but smile at his hearing his explanations.  

James does take his pranks very seriously, but he also takes you seriously and if you want to help him with some pranks from now on, that's what you'll do.

tag: @mischievousmoony, @longlivedelusion, @sayitlikethecheese, @fangirl-swagg

[wholoveseggs]

hello gorgeous! i got another idea! How about reader going through a divorce where the husband is really an arrogant asshole, permanently making fun of her etc. And then she meets Elijah, and they start getting close and he helps her gain her confidence back and shows her how she should be treated. And maybe a few months later, after the divorce, she meets the ex-husband somewhere again and he tries to humiliate her again but Elijah is there and he puts him in his place. Smut is very much welcomed. 🫶🏻

Change

I hate Antoinette, but they were hot together

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Your marriage causes you to feel trapped and worthless. Until you meet a handsome stranger at a café and he shows you how much more you can be.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely @msveronicag, I hope you enjoy it! ♡♡

5.8k words - Warnings: angsty, smutty, reader has low self-esteem, husband is verbally & financially abusive, cheating, car sex, Elijah being a bit of a rascal.

When you first got together with John, he was just so charming and you couldn't help but fall for him. It was hard to say no to him, and you were in a haze of love for a long time. He was such an extrovert, loud and funny, and you felt like you couldn't live without him.

But over the course of your marriage things started to change, his mask slipping and showing the real John underneath. At first it was just a comment here and there, you told yourself he was just having a bad day, but then it just kept getting worse.

The day you stopped loving him, was the day he had a bad day at work and decided to take it out on you. You cooked his favorite dinner, trying to make him feel better, and when he came home, he told you to order takeout instead. You were in the middle of making it, so you just told him it would be done soon, and tried to ignore him.

He took the food and threw it in the sink, and started yelling. You were so stunned, you just stood there and let him. He said the most terrible things, telling you how worthless and pathetic you were, that no one would ever want you if they knew you were like this.

A part of you started to believe him, because no matter how hard you tried to be a good wife, you just weren't. John was so kind and charming to everyone else, so it clearly had to be your fault.

You slowly stopped talking to your friends and family, you were probably annoying them anyways.

John eventually cheated on you, and then you found out he was cheating with multiple women. He would disappear for days at a time, off with someone else. You didn't even care, you didn't love him anymore.

Abuse is insidious like that, you become numb to it all, your brain normalizes it to help you cope, until you don't realize that you are being abused. Until you think it's your fault...

You woke to the sound of yelling, your usual alarm clock these days. John was a loud and obnoxious man, and he had no problem screaming at you whenever the mood struck him.

Today's argument was over you sleeping in. You wanted to stay in bed for a little longer, and John couldn't stand to wait another moment. So he went ahead and had to make his own breakfast, and then came upstairs to berate you.

"You really are a lazy slob! I bet you didn't do any of the laundry either. Get up and clean the house!"

You slowly got out of bed, lately your coping mechanism was ignoring him. If you didn't say anything perhaps he wouldn't yell at you. It wasn't a great coping mechanism, but it was the only thing keeping you sane.

"Are you fucking stupid? Answer me!" John yelled as you walked into the bathroom, closing the door in his face.

That didn't stop him, he yelled through the door, and you turned on the shower. Perhaps you would stand there for an hour, just to piss him off.

Just when you started to relax under the warm water he started banging on the door.

"You've been in there too long, wasting the water I pay for. Get out!"

You didn't have a job, because John told you he would take care of you. You were young and naive, you learned the hard way that being financially beholden to any man was a bad idea.

You finally turned off the shower and dried off. You put on a baggy shirt and sweats, and opened the door. He was gone, probably downstairs watching tv.

You got dressed and headed to your craft room, you spent a lot of time in there. You enjoyed painting intricate scenes on canvases, it was the only thing that gave you joy anymore.

When you painted, your mind would go completely blank, and you would lose yourself in the art. Sometimes you would paint for hours and not even notice.

You put on some music and started working on a landscape. You didn't realize how much time passed until the door opened.

John must of had a day off work because he was still home, he usually left by this time. He stood there and watched you for a moment.

"I'm bored and hungry. Make me lunch."

"I'm not your maid. Make it yourself," you mumbled, not taking your eyes off the canvas.

"Why the fuck do you even waste your time with that? Do you think anyone cares about your mediocre shit?" He snapped.

He's right, no one would care about your paintings, even if you shared them. You weren't that talented, it was purely a form of escape. But a small part of you dreamed of being able to sell your artwork and live off the income.

You set down your paintbrush and sighed.

"I don't do it to show off, I do it because I enjoy it. It calms my mind and makes me happy," you answered.

He laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. He had no appreciation for art or culture, he only cared about money and power. He stepped forward and ripped the canvas off the easel, and started tearing it to pieces.

"How's that for making you happy? Do you still want to paint? Be a famous artist? Real Picasso you are!" He sneered, laughing at his own joke.

You didn't want him to see you cry, so you just got up, grabbed your things and walked out of the house. You felt so weak, such a pushover, unable to defend yourself against his cruelty. A little voice in your head told you that you deserved it, no one knew you better than John, so if he said you were worthless and pathetic, then you must be.

There was a cafe near your house, you always went there when John was being too much for you to handle. It was a cute little spot that doubled as a vintage book store. Dark wooden bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling, plants in every corner and a cozy seating area with large comfortable couches and chairs. It also displayed paintings from local artists on its walls, you enjoyed the ambiance of the place, it made you feel at peace. You would buy a coffee and sit in there for hours reading.

You had seen the same man there a couple times, and his striking appearance caught your eye. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his brown eyes piercing, and his strong jawline was covered in stubble. There was something about him that drew you in, but you were far too shy to ever approach him. What would you even say to a man like that? Hey, I think you a stupidity beautiful? Is the book you're reading good? What do you do for fun? It all sounded so pathetic in your head, so you stayed away.

You noticed that he was always nice and polite to the waitresses and he tipped generously. You wondered if he was like John, that it was all just a facade and that he was secretly cruel underneath his mask of civility. But his face was always soft, his voice gentle, and the way he held the door open for other people gave you hope that he was a genuinely nice man.

You would never see him in anything other than a three piece suit, which was unusual for this neighborhood. His dark blue, or sometimes black suits, fit him so well and complemented his skin tone. He wore crisp white shirts and you could tell he was muscular underneath, not bulky, but lean.

You would sip on your coffee, reading, and stealing glances of him out of the corner of your eye. It was probably pathetic, but the way he looked and carried himself made you feel good, so you let yourself.

One day as you were reading your book, you noticed him reading the same book. Perhaps it was the extra espresso shot you added to your coffee or the fact that it was the first sunny day in weeks, but you found the courage to get up and introduce yourself.

"Hey, uh, I see you have excellent taste in books," you smiled at him, your heart fluttering when he made eye contact. You fought the urge to run away, his gaze was intense, but not harsh.

"It seems you do as well," he returned the smile, his voice was like velvet. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, join me."

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat down, trying your best to maintain eye contact and not blush.

"What made you choose this particular book?" He asked, gesturing at it.

"Honestly, the cover. The art style is really appealing," you told him, blushing a bit. The way he was looking at you made your breath catch in your throat.

"Interesting, I thought the same thing." He chuckled, closing his book and holding out his hand. "I'm Elijah, by the way."

"Y/N," you introduced yourself, taking his hand and shaking it.

"What do you think of it?" He asked, leaning back in his armchair, your gaze lingered on his arms as he crossed them.

"What?" You said, feeling your cheeks heating up. Why did you have to be so stupid all the time?

"The book, what do you think of the book?" He chuckled, tilting his head and smiling.

You talked about the book, the writing, the characters, and how you thought it was going to end. You ended up talking for hours, he was easy to talk to. You found yourself getting more and more relaxed around him.

Elijah had this aura about him, an air of confidence that was oddly comforting. He was polite and charming, with only a hint of a mysterious accent that intrigued you.

"I can't believe we've been sitting here for so long," you laughed. "I didn't mean to keep you, I'm sure you have other places to be."

"No, I have nowhere I need to be, I'm enjoying your company," he said softly. You noticed his gaze lingered on your lips.

You glanced down at your watch and saw that it was nearly 11pm. "Wow, I should go, my husband is probably wondering where I am." You got up and dug around in your purse to pay the bill.

"I would love to see you again," Elijah said as you pulled out your wallet. "Here, let me." He pulled out his own wallet and handed the waitress some cash.

A giddy, almost school girlish, smile spread across your face. "Oh, okay. Thank you, that would be great." You stuttered a bit, blushing and putting your wallet away.

"Have a lovely night," he said softly, getting up and kissing the back of your hand.

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn't wipe the silly grin off of your face as you left. You hadn't felt this feeling in so long, and the thought of seeing him again filled you with joy.

The next few weeks felt like a dream, every day you would go to the cafe and read. You would sit in Elijah's section, and after a while he would show up and sit across from you, drinking his coffee.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said the first time. "I just enjoy your company."

"You're not interrupting," you blushed, putting your book down. "I enjoy your company as well."

As time went on, the conversations got more and more personal. He asked about your job, your life, and your husband. You didn't want to talk about John, it was hard to admit you had been in a bad marriage for so long. You told him a little, about how you both fell out of love, and were basically roommates.

Elijah would listen intently, and would always ask the right questions. He was very good at drawing information out of you. But whenever he got too close to the truth you would change the subject.

It was obvious that he was a good listener and had a kind heart. You wondered why he bothered with you, a nobody, when he was clearly such a sophisticated man. He could have anyone, and yet he was sitting with you.

One day he brought you a gift, it was a tiny ornamental bird, painted a beautiful shade of green. It was just like the one in the first book you both read, and you had told him how much you liked it. You were speechless, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.

You decided to make him a gift, and spent all day working on it. It was a bookmark with an image of a forest painted on it. You used a mix of acrylic and watercolor, the greens and browns blending together.

John walked in on you finishing up, and sneered at your painting. "Are you trying to impress somebody with that? No one's gonna want that ugly thing." He said, scoffing.

Your heart sank and you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He was right, who would want it? It was nothing special.

You were going to give it to Elijah anyways, but you kept second guessing yourself. He wouldn't want it, it was a stupid idea.

He came into the cafe a little later that day, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. Your stomach twisted into knots, and you felt your palms starting to sweat.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound normal. "How are you today?"

"I'm well, how are you?" He replied, sitting across from you.

"I'm good, thank you," you nodded. You decided it was now or never. "So, I made this for you," you blurted out, holding out the bookmark. Your face was hot, and you wished you could hide under the table.

Elijah's face lit up, and he gave a wide crooked smile. "This is wonderful, thank you," he said.

You watched as he picked it up, admiring the artwork. He traced the pattern of trees with his finger and he seemed completely enamored with it.

"You are very talented, do you sell these?," he asked. He looked up and saw the expression on your face.

“Oh god no, I don't know about that, I mean, I just do it for fun, and..."

You were interrupted by your phone ringing, it was John.

"Sorry, one moment," you said, answering the call.

"Where the hell are you? It's past 8pm, and I'm starving, come home and cook dinner," he growled.

You felt your cheeks heat up under Elijah's gaze, shame and embarrassment washed over you.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, I'll be right home," you whispered, you felt so small.

"Hurry up, lazy ass," John snapped before hanging up.

You put your phone away, and forced a smile.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, I forgot my husband was cooking dinner," you lied.

Elijah nodded, his brow furrowing a bit. "Alright, have a lovely night," he said.

"You too," you mumbled as you quickly grabbed your things and left.

You cried all the way home, feeling like a such a loser, a complete failure. Why couldn't you have someone like Elijah in your life? Someone who listened, someone who cared, someone who didn't berate you every second of the day.

You wondered what Elijah thought of you, did he see you as pathetic and weak? A fool that let her husband walk all over her?

It didn't matter, he was so out of your league, you were just a stupid, fat nobody. He would never want you, no one would.

When you showed up to the cafe the next day you noticed a fancy sports car with tinted windows parked out front. It looked very out of place on your street, the only people around who had cars like that were old rich people, and the occasional drug dealer.

Before you reached the door you heard your name being called, and turned around. You saw Elijah waving at you from the driver's seat of the car.

You approached the passenger seat window, and he smiled, beckoning you to get in. You sat down and he handed you a cup of coffee, you smiled at the gesture, he knew your order.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

"I want to show you something," he said, pulling on to the street.

"What is it?" You asked.

"It's a surprise," he said, smirking.

You had no idea where he was taking you, but you didn't mind. You were excited to spend some more time with him.

When he pulled up to the local community centre you were very confused. You couldn't imagine why Elijah wanted to bring you here, maybe it was part of the surprise.

You both got out of the car and entered the building. Inside there was a craft show going on, local artists had set up tables displaying their wares.

His thoughtfulness touched you deeply, he had taken the time to bring you here because he knew you loved art.

The next couple hours were spent perusing the aisles and admiring the paintings, sculptures and crafts. Elijah seemed to have an interest in all of it, asking lots of questions and complimenting the artists. He had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, it's something you admired about him.

"You could get a booth here, sell your art if you wanted," he suggested.

"Oh, I don't know about that, this is just a hobby," you said, brushing off his idea.

"Why not?" He pressed.

"I...well, no one would want my stuff, I mean, they're just little paintings," you sighed

"I would, I think you're very talented," he said softly.

Your heart swelled at his words.

"Thanks," you smiled.

After the craft show, he drove you home, you made him park at the end of the street. You knew how jealous John could get, and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you getting dropped off by a handsome stranger.

"Thank you, Elijah, this was fun," you said.

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied.

"You can't tell anyone about this, I mean, if John finds out, he'll..." You trailed off, feeling stupid.

"He will what?" Elijah's eyes were full of concern.

"Oh, he just, gets jealous easily," you said, fumbling over your words.

"Are you not allowed to have friends?" His brow furrowed, and his eyes hardened a bit.

"No, I mean, I can have friends, I'm just not, uh, supposed to have guy friends," you admitted.

"That doesn't sound like a healthy relationship," Elijah said, his voice sounding slightly deeper than usual. "How about business partners?"

"What?" You were confused.

"If I could help you with your art career, get you a booth at the craft fair, promote your work, would that be allowed?"

"Uh, I guess so," you said.

"Excellent, let's meet tomorrow, discuss what needs to be done," he smiled.

"Okay," you smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your body.

When you got home you decided not to tell John, the last thing you wanted was an argument. Maybe if you were successful and sold a lot, then he would be happy for you, but that was just wishful thinking.

You and Elijah had been meeting up once a week for two months, discussing your art, and ways to improve your sales. He was an expert at marketing, and had already gotten you some commissions.

It was nice to have something else to focus on, instead of constantly being reminded that you were a failure. And for the first time in your life you were making your own money, it felt good.

You started to feel more confident in yourself, Elijah was always saying how talented and special you were, and it was beginning to stick.

Today was the craft fair, and you were nervous, what if no one bought anything? What if they all hated it and thought it was ugly?

Elijah pulled up in his fancy car, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. You both had gotten so much closer in the last couple months, and he had become your best friend. He was the only person in your life that made you feel like you mattered.

Your feelings for him were beyond friendship, but you couldn't risk losing him. It was better to have him as a friend, than nothing at all.

The craft fair was going well, you had already sold two pieces, and were chatting with some customers.

"Oh my goodness, this is gorgeous," one of the customers, an older woman, exclaimed.

"Thank you," you beamed.

"How long have you and your husband been selling these?" She asked, gesturing to you and Elijah.

"Oh, uh, we're not married," you blushed.

"Sorry, I just assumed, your ring..." she trailed off.

You glanced down at your hand and saw your wedding band, the simple gold band John had given you so many years ago.

"I am married, just not to him, we are just business partners," you smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, my mistake," the woman said, returning your smile, her gaze lingering on Elijah.

"It's okay," you blushed, trying to busy yourself by wrapping the painting she had purchased.

"You'd make a lovely couple," the woman said, handing you her credit card.

Your face burned, and your palms began to sweat. You had tried your best to not think of him that way, it wasn't fair to him, or to John. But the thought was always in the back of your mind.

"Thank you, have a nice day," you managed, handing her the wrapped painting.

"You too dear," she said, winking.

You sold out quickly, and decided to celebrate with a drink at a nearby bar.

"I'm very proud of you," Elijah smiled. "You have a natural gift."

"Thanks," you said, feeling yourself blush.

He leaned in close and took your hand, tracing your wedding band. "This doesn't suit you," he said.

"Excuse me?" You squeaked, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering madly.

He ignored your reaction and just grinned, his fingers intertwining with yours. You stared at your hands, his thumb lightly caressing your knuckles. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" He said, his gaze fixed on your face.

"Sure," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of him.

"Why didn't John show up to support you?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Your heart sank. You had purposefully not told John, not wanting to hear him complain about it, or belittle you.

"Well, um, I didn't really invite him," you confessed.

"Why not?"

"Because, I knew he wouldn't care," you sighed. "And I don't want him to know I'm earning my own money,"

"Because you plan on leaving him." It wasn't a question.

"Y-yeah, eventually," you stammered.

He leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand. "Good, you deserve better," he murmured, his lips still grazing your skin.

You didn't know what to say, your head was spinning and you felt hot all over.

"You never talk about him, but I can tell you are unhappy," he said, sitting back.

"It's complicated," you whispered.

"You can talk to me," he said.

You paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You had never talked to anyone about your feelings for John, it was too difficult.

"Well, we used to be happy, when we first got married, but now he's not the same," you said, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice.

"How so?"

"He's controlling and possessive, and he yells a lot. He doesn't love me anymore, and I'm not sure he ever did," you admitted, tears welling up in your eyes. "He cheats on me regularly and controls the finances. Selling my art is the first opportunity I've had to earn money of my own, and I'm terrified of what he'll do if he finds out."

You felt yourself begin to cry, and tried to wipe the tears away, ashamed that your life had turned out this way.

"You hold all of this pain inside, it's not healthy," Elijah said, his face was unreadable.

"I know," you sobbed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying, it's so stupid."

"It's not stupid, you're not stupid," he said, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

You looked into his eyes, his face full of concern. He cared about you, and it was a relief to finally have someone to confide in. You feared that Elijah would reject you, see you as pathetic, but he didn't. He stayed by your side, listening and offering comfort.

"If you ever decide to leave him, you are more than welcome to stay with me," he said.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course, you're my friend," he smiled.

You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. "Thank you," you mumbled.

He froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You inhaled his scent, a mixture of cologne and whiskey. He was solid and warm, and you felt safe in his embrace.

"Thank you, for everything," you repeated, beginning to pull away, but he held you in place.

You felt something stir deep inside, something primal and raw. The heat from his body, the way his strong arms felt around you, and the closeness of his face was overwhelming.

He kissed your cheek as you pulled back, and his lips lingered there for a moment. Your skin tingled where his lips had touched, and you could feel the warmth from his breath.

You sat back and looked at him, his eyes were dark and full of desire, your fingers intertwined with his. The air was thick with tension, and the electricity between the two of you was undeniable.

"I should get home," you said softly, not really wanting to leave.

"Of course," he said, his voice was deep and raspy, his grip on your hand tightening.

You paid the bill, and walked out to the parking lot. Elijah stood close beside you, and his hand brushed yours a few times as you walked to his car.  

Before you could open the passenger side door you felt his hands on your hips. He spun you around and pressed you against the car, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You gasped as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting you.

Your arms snaked around his neck, and your fingers ran through his hair. His hands slid down your hips and grabbed your ass, pulling you flush against his body.

His kiss was passionate and needy, and he moaned softly into your mouth. The sound sent a wave of heat through your body, and you felt your panties getting wet.

After a few moments, he pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, both of you panting.

"Right, okay," he said, his breathing heavy.

"Yeah," you breathed, not really sure what to say.

He pulled away and went to open the passenger door for you, but you stopped him. You felt bold and daring, and the alcohol gave you a confidence boost. You motioned to the back door, and he smirked, pushing you up against the car and kissing you again before opening the door.

You climbed in and he followed, his hands grabbing your waist as his lips found yours again. You moaned into the kiss, the heat between your legs intensifying.

The windows fogged up as you undressed, you were grateful for the tinted windows. You moved onto his lap in just your bra and panties, running your fingers through his hair. He kissed your neck and whispered your name.

"We shouldn't do this," you murmured, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.

"I know," he replied, his lips brushing against your ear.

Elijah placed feather-light kisses down your throat, his hands running up and down your back.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice thick with desire

"No," you breathed, clutching him tightly.

He reached around your waist and unclasped your bra, gently removing it and tossing it into the front seat. He ran his tongue across your breasts, circling each nipple before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands running up and down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you closer.

You blushed, your heated skin flush against his, feeling his hard cock between your legs.

"So are you," you breathed, kissing his neck and grinding against him.

Elijah groaned, his hand coming down to grip your hip and help guide your movements. You were so turned on, it had been so long since you had sex, and John was never a generous lover. You wanted Elijah so badly, you felt like you were going to combust.

His lips found yours, and you kissed him with everything you had. The heat between the two of you turning into a raging fire.

Suddenly the moment was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You both tried to ignore it, but it just rang again, and again, and again.

You broke the kiss and grabbed your phone, seeing it was your husband calling. "Fuck," you cursed, and you answered it.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?!" He demanded.

"I've been busy," you replied. Elijah began kissing your neck again, a smirk on his lips as he listened. You suppressed a moan as he began to guide your hips, helping you grind against his hard cock.

"Busy doing what?! Who are you with?!" John shouted.

"I'm just with some friends, don't worry about it," you gasped.

"You don't have any friends," he spat.

"I do," you insisted, trying not to moan as Elijah's hand dipped into your panties.

"What are their names?" John questioned angrily.

"Elijah," you moaned as his thumb brushed your clit.

"The fuck!" John yelled, going completely into a rage. The kind that always frightened you, he always had a short temper.

Elijah could see the fear on your face and took the phone from you, tucking it under his neck as he continued to pleasure you.

"John, is it?" He asked, his voice cool and calm. "This is Elijah, I'm going to need you to calm down, you are scaring your wife," he said.

"Listen, whoever the fuck you are, don't think I won't track you down and fucking kill you," John spat, his anger reaching a boiling point.

Elijah chuckled, slipping a finger inside you and making you moan, you quickly covered your mouth, but Elijah moved your hand away and gave you a wicked grin, still speaking into the phone.

"That's a little violent, don't you think?" He murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Besides, I'd love to see you try," he smirked.

John went silent, you could hear his ragged breathing.

"Why do you pretend like you care John? She told me you fuck other people, I mean, who would blame her for finding a real man?" Elijah goaded.

You were shocked by his words, but couldn't deny how hot it was, or how aroused they were making you.

"Listen here motherfucker," John snarled, "she's mine, and I will not allow her to be touched by anyone el-"

Elijah hung up the call and discarded your phone, his eyes dark with lust as he stared at you.

"Now, where were we?" He asked, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply.

"I can't believe that just happened," you said, panting as his lips trailed down your neck.

"You don't need to worry about him anymore," he growled. "You are mine now."

You giggled, rolling your eyes at his possessiveness. But a part of you liked it, it made you feel desired, wanted.

"And I am yours," he added, his lips finding yours again, a deep and passionate kiss.

It started to rain, you could hear the droplets hitting the roof of the car. Making everything seem more intimate, as if it were just the two of you in the entire world.

You reached down and fumbled with the zipper of his pants, he lifted his hips and helped you get them down, his cock springing free. You wrapped a hand around it and began stroking him, his moans sending a thrill through your body.

"You don't ever have to go back to him," he whispered.

"I won't," you promised, your lips finding his once more.

He guided your hips, his cock teasing your entrance, and then you slowly eased down into him. He felt so good, a rush of pleasure coursed through your body. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking against him.

The fire between you grew, the windows completely fogged up now. Your skin slick with sweat as you rode him slowly. Foreheads pressed together, you moved in perfect unison, a steady rhythm of passion.

You knew this would change everything, and that things were about to get very complicated. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All you cared about was being with Elijah, the only man who had ever made you feel loved and worthy.

John had taken everything from you, and had made your life miserable for the last ten years. You were trapped and made to feel it was what you deserved. But not anymore.

Elijah had shown you that you were worth more, that you deserved to be loved and cherished. He gave you the tools you needed to leave John, and the strength to do it. You would have never left him without Elijah.

And as you looked into his eyes, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you knew this was right, what love was supposed to feel like. You could see the emotions reflected in his eyes, the intensity of his feelings for you, the same intensity you felt.

You felt his muscles tense and knew he was close, his cock swelling inside you. You moved faster, chasing your own orgasm, wanting to come together. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and when the waves of pleasure finally crashed over you, it was intense, and he came with you.

The sounds of your moans and heavy breathing filled the car, the rain pattering against the windows. You clung to each other, hearts racing, trying to catch your breath.

As the high slowly faded, you both started laughing, giddy and sated. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and he returned it, a smile playing at his mouth.

"I love you," he breathed.

"I love you too," you replied, kissing him again.

He held you tight, his lips finding yours in the darkness. You were finally free, and the world was yours for the taking.

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