#i looked at my sister and i was like when will you do that for me and she was like stfu

[mxtantrights]

Azriel is (secretly) in love with you

"If it were anyone else, you would let them go." you grumble.

Rhys sighs and sets down both his utensils. The table goes silent.

No one could get into a fight like the two of you. Perks of knowing each other since you were children. Rhys is like the little brother you never wanted, but really treasured. And you were like the older sister he never asked for, but really needed. Especially after his mother and sister were brutally taken from him and his father died.

Which is how you now that he's treating you differently. If it were Azriel or Cassian asking to go on this mission he would happy oblige. If it were Feyre he might hesitate but he would let her do it. Mor or Amren he would let them do it. Nesta, well he doesn't tell her what to do ever. And Elaine, if she wanted to do something like this you think he might watch in shock. Never mind the valkyries.

"So you understand, great." he says sassily.

You slam the table, "Stop being rude. I deserve to go on this mission. I deserve what I'm owed."

"What makes you think-"

"I'm owed the head of the man who massacred my family. I am owed Rhysand!" you shout.

"Maybe we can come back to this conversation-" Cassian starts.

You and Rhys look at him in an instant. "Butt out Cass."

Cassian puts his hands up in surrender. You grunt and apologize to him. He nods his head once and places his hands down. You look over at Rhys.

"I'm going. Whether you want me to or not. I'm not asking for permission." you speak.

You stand up from your seat and storm out of family dinner. Something you have never done before. You know how important it is to Rhys and it's important to you too. But you know that tensions are high and you might say something you can't take back.

Its a long walk to your room. And as you sit on the edge of your bed you can't help to think to yourself about the circumstances. If this were Rhys, if he could go after Tamlin you wouldn't stop him. You'd help him.

So why does he not want you anywhere near this?

Your door opens and you green yourself up for a fight, thinking it's Rhys. But when your eyes meet Azriel's you deflate a little bit. Actually a lot. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes.

"I'll ask him to put me on the mission. And then I'll winnow you in." he says.

You look at him in pure confusion. You can't believe what he's saying. Was Azriel...defying orders for the first time? You've never seen him do something like this. To offer you something like this?

"Az, you can't." you say.

"I can. If you agree." he says.

"Why would you disobey Rhys like that?" you ask.

He looks at you. His eyes are basically piercing into your soul. And while you look into his eyes you understand why he's not answering you. He's not saying anything but he's saying everything.

"You know why." he puts simply.

It doesn't surprise you. It doesn't come as a shock. You don't know why but with him standing there and looking at you, you feel it. What you've been feeling for a while underneath the surface.

And he doesn't say anything else. He leaves and shuts the door behind him. You sit there with nothing else to say either. You don't chase after him. You don't call out his name.

Azriel. It's Azriel. How have you been so blind this whole time?

[captain-huggy-bear]

Into the Penalty Box

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Jack has to put your son in the sin bin...

Notes: Short but I had this really fun idea for how Jack doles out consequences as a dad.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"Jack, baby...Carter just bit Ellen." You're tugging Carter along behind you by the wrist gently, he's pouting at the entire way and dragging his feet. Ellen is in your arms sniffling and crying into your shoulder because her big brother (at the tender age of 5 years old) decided that the best way to get rid of his 'annoying' baby sister (of 2) was to bite her. Hard. On the arm.

"Let me see, baby girl." Your daughter holds her arm out to her dad, who's suitably sympathetic, cooing over the teeth marks and pressing a kiss there to 'make it better'. It brings a smile to her little face, tears starting to dry up, but leaving blotchy redness behind.

Once Jack has dealt with the issue of his baby girl crying he turns to his son who you've release your grip on knowing he's unlikely to make a run for it and has typically been pretty good at accepting punishment. Mostly because he's stubborn enough that he always wants to plead his case first.

Jack folds his arms across his chest looking down at the spitting image of himself at 5 years old, light brown near blonde curls, bright blue eyes, chubby blushing cheeks and many missing teeth. Carter is Jack, rowdy, loud, full of energy and from time to time fed up with having a baby sibling who wants his attention all the time. One day he'll grow to love it, hate when his sister stops idolising him, but for now? For now apparently biting has become his new solution and Jack had always taught him that biting was not something they did in their house.

You bounce Ellen in your arms, running a hand over her hair and down her back while you watch Jack crouch down to Carter's level. Jack, despite people's belief, was a disciplinarian. Just not in the usual way...he never shouted, he didn't scream, he didn't insult the kids, none of the typical old school dad stuff, but what he did do always seemed to work.

"Bud, you can't bite your sister."

"But she was being annoying!" It's like watching a second Jack, the way Carter folds his arms across his little chest and puffs out his cheeks as he pouts. You're surprised he didn't stomp a foot on the floor, but it seems he learnt from last time that that only got him more penalty minutes.

"I don't care, it's against the rules, bud, against the code. You've got 5 minutes in the penalty box, get." Jack points to the corner of your living room where the penalty box sits. At first the penalty box had been simply a pillow in the corner, but one summer Jack, Quinn and Luke had spent some time and money making a replica penalty box that sat perfectly in your living room. At first you'd been...less than pleased, but now it was the highlight of your parenting adventures. The way Carter would slam the little door closed, how he'd pout on the bench and drink from the water bottle you always put in there for him as he'd watch the little clock. Whenever he was in hockey gear it was made even better, especially the replica Devils Jersey Luke had gotten him one Christmas. Then it really was like watching a baby Jack sitting in the sin bin.

"But you bite mom!" Carter's face practically goes bright red with his frustration, brows so furrowed they're almost in his eyes and this time he does stomp his feet.

There's a beat of silence, one in which you do your very best not to laugh because Jack's play biting apparently has come back to haunt him. All those times he's come home and pretended to take chomp out of your arm or neck, every time he placed a kiss on your neck in front of Carter only to bite you lightly to make you laugh...

Jack tries everything in his power to remain stern, to not laugh, to not give in because fuck, he's really dug himself a hole with this one, "I nibble on your mom, I don't 'bite' her and I never hurt her. You were trying and succeeded in hurting your baby sister."

"Dad!"

"Do you want another 5 for unsportsmanlike conduct?" Jack's favourite tool whenever Carter or Ellen start to argue back to him, although mostly Carter. Ellen has yet to reach the terrible period of defiance that all toddlers go through.

"No..."

"So into the penalty box, bud." You both watch as Carter slumps off towards the box, slamming the door closed behind him, the wood and plastic wobbling slightly under the force of it.

He sits on the bench, arms crossed, glaring at the clock. Jack sets a timer for 5 minutes and you watch. There's something about watching either of the kids in the box that's interesting because you can see the moment they start to cool down and realise that maybe they're in there for a reason.

With Carter it's the way he starts to look towards Ellen, face scrunched up in guilt, biting on his little lip. You know at 2 minutes and 24 seconds in the sin bin, that Carter will never bite Ellen again and you know that he understands that he hurt her, really hurt her.

It's what has you putting her down and letting her waddle towards the box nearer to the time being over and what has you opening the box a minute early.

You lean into Jack's side and watch as Carter leans down and pulls his baby sister into a hug, before reaching for her arm and placing a kiss on the boo boo where he bite her a little too hard.

"'m sorry, Ellie. I shouldn't have bit you."

"'s okay, Cay-Cay" Because she always struggled to fully say Carter so he'd become Cay-Cay to her. She pats his cheek with her little hand and you know, you know it'll be okay, that you're raising two good kids even if they have their moments.

"Sin bin works again, and you wanted to get rid of it." Jack looks smugly down at you, all dimples and stupidly attractive smirk as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You roll your eyes at him even as you lean further into him, "Yes, well, I guess you have good ideas sometimes...biter."

"Hey! You love when I bite you...just, maybe need to avoid the jokes around the kids...did not see that coming."

[bratbarzal]

The Secret of Us (LH43) 1/3

aka the sequel to let it happen

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 21k (oops)

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

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

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

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

or would I???

I wouldn't 😌

OR WOULD I?!?!?!?! 😏

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

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

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

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

A football game.

You at a football game.

It’s absurd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because obviously Ellie isn’t the only one looking.

Jack is looking.

And Quinn is looking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw, babe, no-,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

What sort of friend does that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luke: can we talk?

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

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

You should be relieved. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But maybe that’s for the best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know-,”

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

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

“Why would they hate you?”

“Because of what happened with us,”

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

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

Apparently not.

“I didn’t tell them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can walk you back,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not to Luke.

You’re not coming.

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

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

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

God, he’s an idiot, he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wasn’t into him?

That wasn’t what you had said to Luke.

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

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

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

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

“You’re so unbelievably stupid.”

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

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

“I don’t-,”

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t ready! I thought she-,” 

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

“She said it didn’t matter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She hates me that much?”

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

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

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

He knows what he’d put his money on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a few seconds, a disc spins out.

Silver Linings Playbook, with Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s just trying to kiss up to Jack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said he was going back to Jersey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to kick her ass?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just one more minute.”

“You have to let me go.”

“Please, I just want to talk.”

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

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

“Please tell me the skirt is okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why would he assume that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe some mysteries are better left unsolved. 

He wasn’t in love with you.

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

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

God, why would you even play along?

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

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

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

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long until you’re playing again?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So either way you’re missing somebody?”

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

“Listen-,”

“Look-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It hurts to hear it, but he’s right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I also took the greyhound.”

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

“You watch too many movies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think I can do that again.”

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

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

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

“You really think we could be friends?”

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

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

“I’d like to try.”

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

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

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

You imagine that it’s slim.

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

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

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

“Can I think about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown.

Is he serious?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A couple?” 

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like it more than you ever thought you would.

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

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

Persistent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m obviously a lobster, Luke.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s just him for you, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not that heartless.

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

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

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

“It wasn’t on your Letterboxd.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about FaceTime?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s dark out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose then I’d carry you.”

This feels familiar.

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

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

Maybe it can be like this again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I don’t know-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s no big deal-,”

“And for not letting me push you away.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And we won’t ever be more?”

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

And then, something shifts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should stop him. You know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A mistake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you can be friends.

What could possibly go wrong?

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

[kamospeach]

smokin' weed out the container .ᐟ

plot: plug!ony wants to show a innocent girl how to really spend a friday night

content warning: drug use, black coded, driving under the influence, exhibitionism if you squint, bathroom sex, quickie, fingering, oral f!recieving, size kink if you drag it, standing, backshots

peachy's yap: wc 3.1k .ᐟ anything about ony will do it for me. hood nigga ony is my fav ony sorry not sorry.

"yeah, one of her closest friends. i told her i'd come get her but she refused to leave her friend alone at home." connie informed ony about you as they made their way to your house. ony shrugged following the directions on the navigation not too worried about you.

the two guys had a few drops to make before turning in for the night. connie's car was at home and he didn't feel like doubling back. pulling up to your house mansion ony's jaw dropped. connie nodded looking at him and not shocked by the mere size of your home anymore.

"she's fucking rich and she's a little sheltered," he warned him knowing how ony can get. he's not loud or super outgoing but he's very assertive and he's bold. ony just nodded watching you and sasha walk out of the front door.

"you didn't tell me she looked that good." ony hit connie on the shoulder and connie frowned up.

"why would i? that's my girl's close friend, she's like a sister." he shook his head as sasha and you entered the car. sasha leaned up to kiss connie before she went back to talking to you.

"y'all not gon' say hi t'me?" ony asked and sasha smacked her lips.

"you always beggin' for attention, hi ony," she said and ony looked at you and you cleared your throat.

"hi onyankapon," you said his full name and he shook his head.

"i know we just met but you can call me ony, ma. i prefer that anyways," he tells you and you nod giving him a small smile before turning back to sasha who slaps your arm. connie gave him a look that said 'really?' and ony smiled to himself.

the four of you rode around as connie and ony made their final drops for the night. sasha and you giggling and gossiping in the back. until ony heard something that piqued his interest.

"you've never been to a sideshow?" he said not caring if he was caught listening in on your conversation.

"no..." you said and he laughed.

"hey con isn't there one this friday?” ony asked and connie nodded grabbing his phone and keys.

“yeah eren and jean said they're going too," he said opening the door sasha followed behind him and ony nodded.

"they spinnin'?" he asked and your brows furrowed not understanding what 'spinning' referred to. while con nodded you looked at sasha who waved at you to get out of the car. you followed behind sasha and connie and they took you home.

over the next week, ony had invited you and sasha to tag along as they made their drops. you and sasha sitting in the back gossiping and watching tiktoks. while ony and connie eavesdropped on the two of you. connie adds his two sense now and then while ony agreeing or disagreeing.

when friday rolled around you were nervous. ony promised you that you'd have a good time and to wear a sweater or something. over the last week, you and ony had exchanged numbers and had casual conversations over text. the first time he called you was last night when he facetimed you to talk about the plans for the night.

-flashback-

frank ocean played on your speaker as you did your homework. you hummed to the song you were sidetracked by the new eye masks you had bought. after putting them on you put your focus back on your homework.

your music was interrupted by your phone ringing, expecting it to be your parents or sasha. you looked down seeing ony was facetiming. your brain scrambled making your hair was good. you answered the phone sitting it against your vanity.

"hello?" you said looking up at the phone and seeing ony eyes low looking at you. he was clearly in the car and smoke clouded his face. he licked his lips and smiled small showing his gold grillz.

"what you doin’?" he asked bringing the phone close to his face and putting his eye in the camera. you laughed at his silly gesture shaking your head.

"i'm doin' homework." ony nods grabbing the blunt from who you assumed was connie. they were best friends and if ony was with a group of people connie had to be there too or he wasn't going. although ony was bold and spoke how he felt he was a usually quiet person. he didn't speak unless he felt comfortable enough to put in his opinion.

"you still comin wit us tomorrow right?" he asked and you nodded your head quickly.

"of course, we've been talkin' about it all week," you tell ony and he smiles. you were excited for this friday you liked spending time with ony and you'd get to go out and have fun for once.

-flashback over-

you looked in the mirror one last time nodding at your outfit. it wasn't insanely cold since it was between summer and fall. you grabbed a purse making sure you had your essentials.

lip gloss. phone. gum. wallet. keys.

after you checked that you had everything you ran downstairs going out to ony's car. this time connie's car was parked in front of his but you didn't notice. you opened up the back seat not seeing sasha.

"you sittin' in the front with me ma," he tells you. you nod and join him in the front. once it dawned on you that connie and sasha were leading the way and you two were following behind them.

"i thought con and sasha were in here," you said looking at ony's side profile. he looked better than he did on the factime yesterday. brown skin glowing under the sunset his mustache and goatee combo. he was like a fine-ass black movie star and you couldn't take his eyes off him.

"i thought they were riding with us but con said he'd drive." he informed you and you nodded still staring at him. "starin' is rude y'know that right?" he laughed and you quickly looked away from him.

"i ain't mean ta stare." you clear your throat and he hums. although you didn't mean to stare you still did anyway. eyes trained on the way his arm covered in tattoos steered his free hand holding a blunt between his pointer and thumb.

he had on a loose white short sleeve with black graphics and black cargo pants. he had on a durag and a black and white yankees fitted and maison mihara canvas lows. he looked too good his golds shining under the setting sun.

the rest of the ride was silent while ony smoked his blunt and followed behind connie. when you all pulled up to the abandoned empty lot people were hoping out of their car. big speakers were pulled out and music began to play. car after car came in drifting in the small circle. a couple of people got hit which made you a little nervous to be as close as you were.

ony and connie had introduced you to reiner, armin, mikasa, annie, eren, jean, levi, and hange. you were shocked by the large group of friends you had never met in the 10 years you were friends with sasha. you all leaned on reiner's big pickup truck watching eren drive into the circle.

"is he good?" you asked looking up at ony. you were leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around your shoulders.

"as fuck. lot of people come just ta' see him." ony told you and you nodded taking in your surroundings. "you good?" he asked and you smiled at him with a nod. honestly, you were enjoying your time here.

"you think i could spend more time with y'all?" you asked and he nodded.

"hell yeah, you're sasha's friend and you're my friend now so of course you can." he smiled down at you and you looked away too shy to look at him. some guy walked up to the two of you smiling at ony.

"wassup man you got that shit on you?" he asked and ony nodded.

"you know i do." he laughed dapping him up and taking the money from the man's hand. he handed him the bag and the man quickly walked off.

although it was legal ony didn't care for everyone knowing he sold. especially at a sideshow that was as crowded as this. he wanted to vibe out with you especially since he felt like y'all were feeling each other. he wanted to put 100% of his attention on you and you only. not selling to some potheads who couldn't spare an extra 5 minutes asking someone else.

your big mesmerized eyes were looking everywhere shocked at what you were seeing. ony smiled concedely taking credit for being the one to show you something new. he enjoyed how every time something happened you'd look back at him with a shocked expression. pointing at the car saying "did you see that?" "look at that car" "oooo that one's girlie!". he loved every second of your obvious enjoyment.

after the sideshow, the group decided to go to waffle house very original. it was going on 2 am and everyone sat around the table eating their food. eren made money and you weren't exactly sure how. ony made money too, that you knew how.

"i'll be right back you told the group and they nodded." you stood up walking to the bathroom expecting to see stalls you realized there was only one family bathroom in the whole restaurant.

after doing your business you washed your hands. you grabbed your lip gloss out of your purse reapplying as someone knocked on the door. you didn't answer initially thinking they'd notice someone was in here after they wiggled the locked handle. yet the knock came again.

"just a second!" you yelled and whoever was behind the door knocked harder. "i said just a second the fuck?" you yelled swinging the door open and seeing ony standing there, toothpick in his mouth.

"you yellin' at me ma?" he asked and you smiled backing up the closeness between the two of you too much. but it only made it worse since ony came into the bathroom with you locking the door behind him.

"nah, i thought you was somebody else. if you would've said it was you i would've let you in," you said and ony raised a brow.

"let me in? i really just came to talk to you with all those people around. been waiting to be wit just you." he said licking his lips at you making you look away from him.

"why just me?" you asked and he shrugged wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"i been wanting to kiss you since tuesday," he said lowly in your ear. you were taken aback by this confession since you had only met him sunday.

"kiss me?" you asked and ony laughed.

"you askin' or tellin'?" he smirked as your face was hot from his flirty comments.

"both," you said building up the courage to try keyword try to flirt back with ony.

"yeah," he responded to your question and then the hand on your waist fell to your ass. this reaction was a response to you telling. he kissed you like he had been wanting to do for the past week.

your lips moved fast and hungrily the sweet taste of syrup on his lips. while he tasted the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. the mix of flavors is sweet and tasty. your hands reached up grabbing his cheeks and pulling him closer to you. his other now on your waist.

"mmm." you moan into his mouth as his hands knead the fatty flesh of your ass. you pulled away standing on tiptoes to trail kisses from his lips down his neck. your hands going up his shirt running up his toned abs.

"right now?" he asked in shock and you knew what he meant not needing it to be interpreted. you nodded looking up at him with doe eyes. "i could take you home tho..." he said, breathing unevenly he was getting turned on by the minute.

"need you now, m'so wet," you whispered to him. ony was shocked by your boldness and your admission of needing him. he smirked at you picking you up and pushing your back against the wall of the bathroom.

he realized now that this wasn't a good idea since the one piece you wore had to be unzipped from the back. he let you down taking off your jacket and hanging it on the hook. looking for the zipper on the back of your one-piece.

"how the fuck do you take this shit off?" he grumbled and you were whining from being impatient. "i know baby i know i'm tryna find this bitch ass zipper. lucky we ain't at home i'd rip this bitch off you." he said angrily finally finding the zipper. he helped you out of it and hung it on the hook too.

"c'mere," you said wrapping your arms around his neck. he unbuckled his pants pulling them down. he couldn't afford to have a wet spot on his pants when you both returned to the table. "we only have 10 minutes."

"that'll do," he grunted lifting your right leg and squatting down. placing your leg over his shoulder he wasted no time pushing two of his fingers into your tight cunt.

"fuck wait." you moaned out and ony hummed. you hadn't had sex in a while and you were tighter than usual. the stretch from ony's fingers was almost too much for you to take.

"im thicker than this." he warned and the thought of his big cock tearing you in half had you clenching on his fingers. "oh you like that? you're getting wetter just thinkin' about me?" he taunted you as he fucked his fingers into you. your juices dripped down your leg and he licked it up. trapping your clit into his mouth as he ate you out so good.

he pulled his fingers out of you pushing his fingers into your mouth. you grabbed his wrist and sucked his fingers clean. his eyes dilated as he watched you in awe he knew he needed to feel your mouth around him. but you didn't have time.

with that reminder, ony spun you around pressing your chest against the wall. you spread your legs bending over enough that your ass arched. ony pulled a condom out of his wallet ripping the condom. he slid the condom down his dick rubbing the tip on your clit.

"ready?"

"yes." you moaned and ony groaned as he pushed himself halfway in. and he was right he was thicker than his fingers. the stretch brought tears to your eyes, and you turned around looking to see he was only halfway in. he pushed more of himself in and you whined pushing against his stomach.

"let me just get all the way and you can take all the time you need," he said leaning forward to kiss away your tears. you nodded letting him bottom out in you the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. you moved slowly as your tight cunt adjusted to him.

"m'ready," you told him and he nodded starting off with nice slow strokes. your moans were uncontrollable as he pounded into you painfully slow. "f...faster please." you mumbled and ony laughed at your plea.

"what was that ma i couldn't hear you," he said making his strokes even slower to antagonize you.

"faster ony please!" you yelp and he smirks loving the way you said screaming out his name and begging for him. and just like you asked ony fucked you faster his hips snapped into you. his hands roughly gripped your waist as he bullied his big cock into you.

"fuck baby this pussy s’good for me. so tight and warm." he moaned throwing his head back. he slapped your ass and gripped it roughly. his other hand followed suit. now both hands were on your ass spreading it open he fucked into you. he was hypnotized by the glistening of your essence coating him and the way you grip him.

his hips never slowed down as if he was digging the orgasm out of you. his groans were almost louder than your moans as he pounded into you. your hands flat against the wall as your body roughly hit the wall from ony's thrust. because of his fast pace and roughness, you were about to cum.

"fuck... on.... cum...." was all you could manage from the way his dick fucked you senseless.

"you cumming ma? yeahhhh good girl. tell me how good it feels." he groaned angling his hips to fuck you even better. you let out a squeal 'feels s'good' as his dick hit every spot that made you come undone. "fuck i'm behind you, cum wit me baby." he moaned leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"oh my god onyyyy..." you whined as you came all over his cock ony followed cumming into the condom. your cream painting his cock white as he continued to rock his hips into yours.

"so good for me," he grunted his cum still leaking out into the condom. he stilled in your as you both caught your breath.

"ooo shit," he grunted his cum still leaking out into the condom. he stilled in your as you both caught your breath. “gotta… hurry up,” he huffed grabbing paper towels and wetting them to wipe in between your legs. 

he cleaned you up and helped you put back on your clothes. he pulled up his pants and helped you get situated before you both were ready to leave. as you opened up the door reiner was about to knock on the door. his eyes wide looking between the two of you with a knowing look. 

“if i ain’t know no better i’d think the two of ya was fuckin’.” he said in his thick country accent and you looked up at ony who looked down at you. “i’m just fuckin’ wit y’all.” he laughed letting the two of you out to go inside and use the bathroom. the two of you laughed at that awkward moment until you walked up to the table. everyone was looking up at the two of you and down at your legs.

“shit.” ony mumbled and you looked down, there was a rip in the inner thing of your bodysuit.

“they was fucking!” eren laughed and mikasa hit his arm telling him to hush.

“we gon’ go.” ony said grabbing your arm as the two of you left out of waffle house.

“how did this happen? you took it off!” you whined as you both got in the car and ony drove you home.

“i mean i heard a rip but i thought that was the zipper.” ony grumbled and you snapped your head to look at him.

“you what?” you yelled and he laughed.

“oops?”

[vortexbloom]

Phainon, mydei and anaxa (separate) x fem reader romantic

Platonic for the children

Like them as a parent and they have a kid with fem reader, the kid feel lonely because they don't have a sibling and aunty aglaea request the kid to ask their parent about having a sibling.

The kid thank aunty aglaea for the solution and start to run towards their home feeling so exited to ask their parent about having a sibling, when the kid arrived in their house the kid start to search for the parents

when they see the character and fem reader in the living room or the kitchen, the kid start to walk towards the father and ask for a sibling, make both of them suprised by the kid's request meanwhile fem reader's face flushed red as tomato.

The father is eager to have another kid with fem reader and tell the kid that they will give them a sibling, the kid cheer and thank their parents. When the kid leave the parents, the husband feel smug and start to hug their wife from behind and whisper some word, while the male's hand caressing the fem reader's stomach.

🤭

BFKJYBSLYBDLSNDBXKSMS I genuinely love this request 😍😍

Your Child asks you and your Husband for a Sibling (Separate OneShots)

Pairing: Phainon/Mydei/Anaxa x Female Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Might be a lil bit spicy, fluff

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

The golden glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the grand windows of your home, casting long shadows across the room. You were curled up in a chair, enjoying a rare moment of quiet, while Phainon sat nearby, casually skimming through a book. His elegant fingers traced the edges of the pages, but his attention was easily drawn away the moment your daughter burst into the room.

"Mommy! Daddy!" she called, her little feet pattering against the floor as she rushed toward you both.

Phainon arched a single brow, closing his book with deliberate slowness. "Yes, little one?"

Your daughter huffed, hands on her hips, looking far too serious for someone her age. "I want a baby brother or sister."

Silence.

You nearly dropped your cup. Phainon, ever composed, simply leaned back in his chair, blue eyes glinting with curiosity—and something undeniably amused.

"Oh?" he mused. "And what has made you decide this?"

"Auntie Aglaea said I should ask!" she declared proudly. "She said if I tell you, then you’ll make it happen!"

You groaned inwardly. Of course Aglaea was behind this.

Phainon hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Is that so?"

Your daughter nodded eagerly. "She said that if two people love each other very much, then they—"

"That’s enough wisdom from Auntie Aglaea," you interrupted swiftly, your face heating up.

Phainon let out a soft, low chuckle, clearly enjoying your reaction far too much.

"But I really want a sibling," your daughter continued, looking between the two of you expectantly. "Please?"

Phainon exhaled, setting his book aside before standing up. He moved with his usual grace, stepping toward your daughter and crouching to meet her gaze. Then, with an elegant smile, he reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

"You are quite lucky, little one," he murmured smoothly. "Because your wish has already been granted."

Your daughter’s eyes widened in delight. "Really?! I’m getting a sibling?"

Phainon nodded. "Yes. You’ll have a younger sibling soon."

She let out a happy squeal, jumping excitedly before rushing off. "I have to tell Auntie Aglaea!"

As soon as she disappeared down the hall, you let out a long sigh, placing a hand over your forehead. "I am going to kill Aglaea."

Phainon chuckled deeply, his amusement evident as he stepped behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"You should be thanking her," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr against your ear.

His hands slid over your stomach, his touch warm and deliberate, caressing the gentle curve there. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles, a silent promise lingering in the air between you.

You shivered. "She’s meddling again."

Phainon hummed, his lips brushing against your temple. "Perhaps," he mused, "but she does have a point."

You exhaled, leaning into his embrace as his grip tightened, possessive yet tender. "And what point is that?"

“That it won’t hurt to have another child,” he whispered, his voice laced with something darker, something deeper. "After all…why not have a fourth member for our family?"

Your breath caught, heat rushing to your face. "You’re impossible."

"And yet," he purred, nuzzling against your neck, his fingers still caressing your stomach, "you wouldn’t have me any other way."

You sighed, relaxing into his hold. He was right. And somehow, you knew that Aglaea would be very, very pleased with the outcome of her meddling.

The soft hum of conversation filled the grand dining hall as you sat at the long table, enjoying a peaceful evening meal with Mydei and your son. The delicate scent of freshly prepared dishes lingered in the air, the atmosphere calm, unhurried.

For once, everything was tranquil.

Until your son suddenly set down his fork, puffing out his chest with all the determination of a warrior about to embark on a quest.

"Mommy! Daddy! I want a baby brother! Or a sister!"

You nearly choked on your food.

Mydei, in contrast, remained perfectly composed, leisurely twirling his wine glass between his fingers as he looked at your son with mild amusement. "Oh?"

Your son nodded enthusiastically, his little hands gripping the edge of the table. "Auntie Aglaea said I should ask you! She said if I really, really want a sibling, I should keep asking until you say yes!"

You let out a long sigh, already feeling a headache forming. "Of course, she did."

Mydei set down his glass, his expression unreadable. "And what would you do with a younger sibling, champ?"

Your son brightened. "I’d teach them everything! Like how to run fast, and how to sneak extra desserts from the kitchen when the chefs aren’t looking!"

You shot him a look. "You’ve been sneaking extra desserts?"

"…No?"

Mydei chuckled, resting his chin on his hand, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "A noble cause, indeed."

Your son clasped his hands together in a pleading motion. "Please? I promise I’ll be the best big brother ever!"

Mydei let the silence linger for a moment, his expression betraying nothing—until he finally leaned forward slightly, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

"You need not worry," he said smoothly. "You’re getting that sibling."

Your son froze, blinking rapidly. "Wait… REALLY?!"

Mydei nodded. "Yes. Soon, you will have a younger sibling."

Your son let out an excited shout, nearly knocking over his chair in his rush to stand. "I have to tell Auntie Aglaea!" He bolted from the room, his voice echoing down the hall, "Auntie Aglaea, it worked!!!"

You sighed and rubbed your temples. "That woman is too involved in our lives."

A deep chuckle rumbled behind you, and before you could react, Mydei’s arms slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest. His hold was firm yet impossibly gentle, his presence warm and grounding.

"Oh cmon, having a second child wouldn’t hurt, hm?," he murmured, his voice a silken purr against your ear.

His long fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over your stomach, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His gestures were possessive, reverent, as if he was savoring this moment, the reality of your growing family settling between you.

You exhaled, placing your hands over his. "Well….I guess you‘re right."

Mydei’s smirk was audible in his tone. "Good to know that you think like this."

He pressed a slow, lingering kiss against the curve of your neck, his hands never leaving your stomach. "After all," he whispered, his voice dipping into something darker, more intimate, "this is a future I desire just as much as you."

You sighed, relaxing into his embrace, fully aware that Aglaea would be unbearably smug when she heard about this.

And yet, despite her meddling, you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed.

Because in the end, your family was growing.

And that was all that mattered.

The quiet of the evening was broken by the sound of your son rushing into the living room, his footsteps heavy with determination. You looked up from your book, eyebrows raising at his sudden entrance. Beside you, Anaxa remained in his usual state of calm composure, his dark, piercing eyes following your son’s movements without a flicker of emotion.

"Mom! Dad!" your son exclaimed, bouncing up to you both with wide, eager eyes. "I want a sibling!"

You blinked in surprise. "A sibling?" you echoed, unsure if you’d heard him right.

Your son nodded fervently. "Yep! Auntie Aglaea said I should ask you if I want one. She said it’s the best idea ever!"

Anaxa raised a brow. "Aglaea, was it?" His lips curled into a small, knowing smile, though his voice remained soft, laced with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah! She said I should ask for a brother or sister!" your son continued, clearly excited by the thought. "I’ll be the best big brother! I promise!"

You felt a sudden weight in your chest. Of course, Aglaea would encourage this.

Your husband’s expression didn’t change, though his eyes softened slightly as he regarded your son. "So, you want a sibling?" Anaxa asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

Your son nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh! Someone to play with, someone to teach all the cool stuff I know!"

Anaxa’s lips twitched upward in the smallest of smiles, but he kept his tone steady as he replied, "Well, I guess we’re going to have a new member for our family soon."

Your son’s eyes widened, and he froze for a moment. "Wait, really?!"

Anaxa nodded. "Yes. Soon, you’ll have a younger sibling to play with."

Before either of you could say another word, your son jumped up, his face breaking into a wide grin. "I have to tell Auntie Aglaea! She’s gonna be so happy!" He bolted out of the room, barely pausing to look back as his laughter echoed down the hall.

You let out a deep breath, rubbing your temples. "Aglaea is absolutely going to gloat over this."

Anaxa chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth, before he shifted behind you, his hands finding your waist with practiced ease. He drew you back against his chest, his presence warm and solid, comforting.

"I suppose we should thank her for this," he murmured, his voice rumbling through you like a gentle wave.

You snorted softly, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. "Thank her for giving our child ideas?"

Anaxa’s breath was warm against your ear as he leaned down, his lips brushing your temple in a light, affectionate kiss. "She only pushes us toward things we both want, my love."

You leaned back into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he caressed your stomach in slow, deliberate movements. His fingers were gentle yet firm, a reminder of the strength he wielded and the tenderness he reserved for you.

"Soon, you will carry our second child," Anaxa said, his words low and thoughtful, as if savoring the moment.

Your heart fluttered, and you placed your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. "I wasn’t expecting this… but I’m glad. I want this too."

Anaxa pressed a kiss to your neck, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly. "I know, my love. You and I make a good team. And soon, we’ll have more laughter in this house."

You turned in his arms to face him, gazing into his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes that held so many secrets, yet in this moment, they were full of something softer. Something more tender.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice full of quiet affection.

Anaxa smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usual sharp features. "I love you too, my dear. And now, we get to watch our family grow."

As the warmth of his embrace surrounded you, you felt the weight of Aglaea’s meddling lift off your shoulders. Your family was expanding, and that was all that mattered.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[hipstersfoundmyrobot]

Over the past ten years, Danny Fenton’s life has been a whirlwind, and that’s an understatement. Nonetheless, despite being the Ghost King and a consultant for the JLD as Phantom, Danny’s life is ordinary. Or as ordinary as a halfa king could manage.

Danny remembers being 17 and feeling so helpless and overwhelmed, especially when Jazz moved away for college. He didn’t expect that to be the end of his struggles. His sister coming back for Christmas break with the Justice League in tow was not on his bingo card, nor were his parents and Vlad being tried for supervillainy or the Anti-Ecto Acts and the GIW being a hoax. However, according to Tucker, the most surprising part of their senior year was their trio graduating with near-perfect attendance and good grades.

Nowadays, life is good for Danny. While his responsibilities as the High King of the Infinite Realms and his attachment to his haunt keep him from leaving Amity Park, he has found balance. After his identity as Phantom was revealed to the town, the community rallied in support of the half-dead teenager who saw his parents go to jail. Following Jazz’s insistence, he has enrolled in an online Astronomy and Engineering degree, which he finds much easier than high school. He doesn’t even have to worry about money, being the new owner of FentonWorks and DalvCo.

All in all, life is, finally, cutting the halfa some slack, which is why he now has more free time to fill, ergo his current situation. Sam, Tucker and Jazz are debating on his computer screen about what hobby he should try.

“Danny, dude, I’m telling you, you should take programming classes. We could make our own video game and-“Tucker’s excited rant cuts off as Jazz mutes the both of them.

“After the ecto-contamination of everyone in Amity, you’ll probably find a lot of people willing to join an environmentalist group. You know my activism rubbed off on you.” Sam’s voice is almost covered by the deep sigh that escapes Tucker and Danny can’t help but smile at his best friends’ antics.

“You guys, we’re trying to figure out something Danny would like. Baby brother, what is something you’d like to do ?” Danny can’t help but miss his sister when he sees her exasperated smile at his friends’ insistence that he tries something they like.

Leaning against his desk, his face in his hand, he shrugs, a bit embarrassed. “Actually, I did have an idea but I’m not sure.” On his screen, his sister’s face is open and supportive, meanwhile, Sam and Tucker don’t seem to have noticed they were inaudible. “I, maybe, wanted to try streaming ? You guys obviously don’t have as much time to play video games with me and it’s really not the same on my own… I like the idea of finding a community of people who enjoy listening to my weird space and ghost rants without having to leave Amity. Not that the Parkers aren’t my friends but—” He pushes his hair out of his face with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “I guess I want to meet new people ? But I don’t actually want to meet them.”

“That sounds great, Danny.” Jazz, supportive as always, finally unmutes the two.

“Yeah dude, I’m down to help you set it all up. You’re gonna need equipment-“

“And you’re gonna need to ectoproof it too. Are you going to hide your identity ? Acting like ghosts and your powers are the norm would be so funny.”

“Right, you could ask a ghost artist to make your channel art. You clearly already have a niche thing going, you know ?” His Fraid’s excitement makes Danny feel more confident in his idea.

“What do you guys think of the name CosmicSpecter ?”

Jason has been back in Gotham for about two years. His relationship with his family is still strained but it is improving. He has a good thing going with Red Hood and his gang. However, he is still plagued by the Pit Madness, despite his best efforts he still doesn’t feel like himself. Meanwhile, everyone around him has accepted, however reluctantly, that this is who he is now, but Jason refuses to. He knows this isn’t him, but he is resigned that the foreign rage trying to control him will torment him until his (next) dying breath.

Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s the scary TubeYou algorithm that has him clicking on the livestream thumbnail while tittering close to the Pit Rage. The guy has 463 subscribers and 6 current viewers and he’s halfway through a burrito when Jason joins. The light is dim, and his eyes seem to be reflecting the light. A meta, maybe ?

“Hiya ‘botched-resurrection’, nice to see a fellow undead here.” He takes a swig of a too green liquid from a soda bottle and flashes the camera with a wide smile. “We’ll go back to playing once I’m done eating. This new joint opened a few years ago, since our town isn’t under a fake government lockdown anymore, and honestly, I’m pleasantly surprised. My sister is probably relieved I’m eating something other than a burger.” The guy’s eyes widen slightly when a $20 donation comes through from one ‘jazz_hands’. “Really Jazz ? ‘Twenty whole American dollars in hopes you’ll eat healthier food one day’. There are real vegetables in here you know ? You’re being too harsh. Also stop sending me money as an excuse to embarrass me on stream.”

This is the start of the prologue I'm posting on ao3 tomorrow probably, I'll link once it's up

Streamer Danny AU, but he’s a really minor streamer. Like, he does it mainly just for his own fun and only has a few intermittent viewers.

But somehow Jason finds his channel anyway, and something about his voice is captivating. The pit rage quiets down in his presence. So he starts tuning in to basically every stream, or just putting on the VODs in the background to fall asleep to.

And on the other side, Danny takes note of this new subscriber who’s quite possibly his first truly dedicated viewer. So he starts interacting with him on stream sometimes - greeting him when he shows up in the chat, specifically asking/answering questions, etc

Needless to say, this did not help Jason’s growing semi-parasocial crush in the slightest…

[n0vazsq]

Chivalry is dead | Alexandra Saint Mleux x Reader

pairing . . . alexandra saint mleux x leclerc!reader

summary . . . Everybody thought Alex was dating your older brother Charles, and that you were dating your own person. But when a photo of you two kissing at Jimmy'z got leaked, everything changed

request . . . no!!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none! THIS WAS WHEN ALEX HAD HER INSTA AS PRIVATE !!!!

faceclaim . . . various girls from pinterest!

alexavia yaps . . . WOOHOO GIRLY LOVE!!!!!!! anyway i <3 alex shes so pretty so yes!! first time im writing for a wag which is so excting omg!! timeline doesn't make sense so ignore that! legit took me like 4 days to finish idk why AND ITS KINDA CRNGE AND SHITTY ASL but lets focus on it being published <3

yourusername has posted two new stories !

caption 1: i wish i knew what was so interesting // caption 2: dinner with my girl 🤍

click to view all messages

username1 gorgeous girls omg

username2 my girl?? i see you y/n 👀

username3 alex abandoning charles to go with you lmao

username4 i wish i was a wag

username5 so prettyyyyy

alexandrasaintmleux i had so much fun mon ange 🤍

yourusername everything is fun with you mia bella ragazza 🤍🤍

username7 my GOD youre stunning

username8 replying to this in hope of y/n seeing my dm

username9 holy shit you two look like goddess'

charles_leclerc stealing my girlfriend now?

yourusername hilarious

charles_leclerc just joking, you two look stunning

yourusername thanks charlie

username10 my oh my i dropped dead

username11 where's the dress from?

username12 my dream in life is to be famous and post shit like this

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 732 others

alexandrasaintmleux someone partied too hard and missed breakfast Tagged: yourusername

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friend1 let me guess, she slept until the afternoon?

yourusername you know i can read????

alexandrasaintmleux surprisingly, she woke up just a bit after 12

yourusername i'm literally right here

friend1 well that's an improvement!

yourusername guys??

alexandrasaintmleux it is!

yourusername fuck it i hate you

alexandrasaintmleux the problem is you don't

yourusername FINALLY

yourusername and i don't that's true 😔

username13 the prettiest! Liked by creator

username14 man i wish i was alex

francisca.cgomes how was date night??

alexandrasaintmleux soo beautiful

francisca.cgomes make sure to tell me about everything

francisca.cgomes you too yourusername !

yourusername will do, kika, will do

francisca.cgomes i can't wait for you two to go public so i can post all the cute pictures i have

alexandrasaintmleux i don't think that will be soon

francisca.cgomes you never know, maybe y/n will start making out with you in the paddock after getting sick of the people staring at you

yourusername ...

yourusername okay i won't go THAT far but i might kiss her just a tiny bit

alexandrasaintmleux mon ange....

yourusername love youuu

alexandrasaintmleux love you too

charles_leclerc this account is private right?

alexandrasaintmleux yes! it's only for friends and people who know about us

yourusername don't worry charlie we made sure nothing could go wrong

charles_leclerc just wanted to make sure my little sister and sister-in-law are safe and comfortable

yourusername awwww my heart 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux thank you charles! we appreciate it 🫶

yourusername how can someone be so gorgeous and beautiful and pretty and stunning and ethreal and breathtaking and lovely and elegant and radiant and exquisite and graceful and divine and hot and angelic and delicate and enchanting and serene and mesmirizing and captivating and eye catching and jaw dropping and show stopping???

alexandrasaintmleux by using some of your beauty

yourusername MY beauty? comapred to me you're an angel who graced this earth to fill my life with love and heavenly moments

alexandrasaintmleux have i ever told you how much i love you?

yourusername why don't you show me instead?

alexandrasaintmleux coming to the bedroom right now

francisca.cgomes why cant pierregasly be like this?

pierregasly i can't keep with y/n she's more down bad every day i see her

iamrebeccad if carlos was like this i wouldn't be hanging out with y/n and alex as much

francisca.cgomes same with me

carlossainz55 ???

pierregasly ???

yourusername pierre and carlos can fuck off this is a GIRL only place

charles_leclerc and me?

yourusername you too

charles_leclerc this is what i get for being a loving brother and pretending to date your girlfriend so the media doesn't pry on your life and harass you two

yourusername the phrasing is making me sound like an ungrateful brat

charles_leclerc because you are?

yourusername i'm telling maman we'll see if she likes this

charles_leclerc ...

yourusername go get a girlfriend buddy we need more girls for our hangouts

charles_leclerc what have i done to deserve this?

yourusername you crashed niki lauda's ferrari

charles_leclerc DON'T go there

charles_leclerc it was break failure and you know it

yourusername sure, charlie, sure

alexandrasaintmleux y/n please leave charles alone he might cry

yourusername of course mia bella ragazza 🤍

charles_leclerc alex????

yourusername fuck off

charles_leclerc sigh

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 852K others

yourusername out with mia bella ragazza 🤍

click to view all comments

username15 EH?????

username16 at least its not a man guys

username17 EXACTLY

username18 Y/N SOFT LAUNCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username19 im never shutting about this for like another 6 weeks

username20 MY WIFEE IS NOT SINGLE????

username21 stop why is alex in the reflection of the second pic

username22 dont fuel my expectations

username23 MEOW

username24 y/n pls check your dms

username25 bros tryna rizz THE y/n leclerc

username26 the audcaity to say this in a soft launch post HELP

username27 i need to know who shes posting about

username28 oh to be in a relationship with her

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl

yourusername its all you bella

alexandrasaintmleux you flatter me

yourusername its not flattery if its true

alexandrasaintmleux im blushing right now stop

yourusername anything for you bella 🫶

username29 lowkey why do they sound like theyre flirting???

username30 i have a theory that theyre dating but covering it by 'dating' other ppl

charles_leclerc looking beautiful

yourusername thank you charlie 🤍

alexandrasaintmleux she always looks beautiful!

username31 ALEX!?!??!?!

username32 MISS.

username33 not alex flirting with her boyfriend's sister INFRONT of him

username34 who ever shes dating is living the dream lifeee

username35 she better hard launch soon or im suing

username36 sigh i wish i was her

username37 call me delusional but shes dating lando

username38 noo i see it

username39 WAIT STOP THATS??

username40 y/n literally wrote MIA BELLA RAGAZZA WHICH IS ITALIAN FOR MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLLLLL

username37 jeez calm down

username41 MOTHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

username42 woah

username43 can she like marry me idk

username44 can't wait to see her in the paddock again omggg

username45 STOP alex uploaded a story where she was in a restaurant too

username46 theres a lot of similar restaurants in monaco its probably her with charles

username47 sigh i want to be as pretty as her

username48 STUNNING.

username49 ate up everyone frrrr

username50 ALEX BAG HER UPPPP

username51 she better before we do

username52 frr omg

username53 the leclerc sibling fight over alex

username54 when i sleep i see her in my dreams

username55 MY GOOOD IM COMBUSTIG SHES GORGEOUSSSSSSSSSS

username56 mothered up so hard the earth cracked

username57 shes my kind of woman

username58 id let her hit me with charles' car

username59 real

username60 queen

f1_wags_exposed

liked by wag_gossip, f1spilled, username61 and 142K others

f1_wags_exposed a recent tweet went viral because of a picture containing CHARLES LECLERC'S girlfriend, ALEXANDRA SAINT MLEUX, kissing his younger sister Y/N LECLERC at Jimmy'z Monte Carlo following Leclerc's Monaco Grand Prix win Tagged: yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

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username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 oh!

username63 they haven't commented on this yet???

username64 why should they do

username65 it'll only fuel the rumors

username66 so will staying quiet

username67 WHAR?????????????????

username68 tagging them is BRUTAL

username69 wrong timing but face card never declined for all three of them

username70 and never will

username71 this was NOT on my 2024 bingo card

username72 if i had a penny for every time a leclerc got with alexandra id have 2 pennies which isnt a lot but its weird that it happened twice

username73 y/n x alex we need it

username74 the otp fr

username75 HELL YES LETS GO WE GOT YURI

username76 WHERE ARE THEYYYYYY I NEED THEM TO SPEAK ABT THISS

username77 was full on expecting y/n to comment on this

username78 ME TOO like her ass would say 'girl what' or sum

username79 FRRR

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'summer love triangle teenage drama series'

username84 OKAY BRO BYE IM LEAVING THIS EARTH THATS SO TRUE

username85 legit the summer i turned pretty (i didnt watch it)

username86 AND the kissing booth (didnt watch this either)

username87 this is fake i REFUSe to believe this

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN. WHY CANT THIS HAPPEN TO ME

username89 hottest love triangle i cant

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 gang if its a love triangle then theres incest

username93 this is the kind of romance ppl write books about

username94 STOP NOT THEM GOING RADIO SILENCE HELP ME

username95 if charles and alex break up then its true

username96 no bc i feel like im intruding on them rn

username97 THEYRE GORGEOUS

username98 shes everything and hes just ken

username99 idk who this is talking abt but its true for both y/n and alex

username100 charles could do so much better ew

username101 my QUEENS

username102 ok so like when do they hard launch

username103 if this turns out to be fake i will rage SO HARD

username104 i have a solution that alex and y/n get together and charles does whatever idk

username105 I DIED???

username106 i need them to go poly

username107 y/n and charles are siblings......

username108 I REMEMBER WHEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAPPENED LIKE IN AUS BC Y/N WAS SITTING ON ALEX'S LAP

username109 HELP WHAT???

username110 HOW DID I MISS THIS LORE???

username111 y/n made a story of her sitting on alex's lap again and was like 'and i'd do it a thousand times' then deleted it after like 2 minutes but it went viral LMFAO

username112 THIS IS SO RANDOM????

username113 leclerc-saint mleux lore goes DEEP

username114 man this shit is crazy

username115 idc whoever gets with who bc they will legit be the most gorgeous couple no matter what

username116 ALEX THE BEST WAGGGGG

username117 oh i am itching for y/n and alex hard launching with grand prix apperances

username118 when i opened insta i wasnt expecting THIS

username119 i-???? wtf do i even say

username120 i am SPEECHLESS

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 852K others

yourusername chivalry is dead so i got me a girl. mia bella ragazza, ti amo tanto 🤍🤍 Tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

click to view all comments

alexandrasaintmleux je t'aime tellement, mon ange 🤍

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

alexandrasaintmleux 🫶

username121 STOPP MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

username122 this has me sobbing and i dont even know them

username123 WHAR?????????????????

username124 idk if i expected this or not

username125 honestly same

username126 WHAT THE SHIT

username127 werent alex and charles out on a date yesterday?????

username128 MY GYATTTTTT

username129 ????

username130 sTOP

username131 im deceased

username132 GIRL WHAT???? IM SP CONFUSED RN WHATTTT

username133 LETS GO us girlies won

username134 gang go check out the y/n and alex update accs they uploaded the whole saga wtf

username135 the most gorgeous gyals

username136 if i was charles id die like my sister dating my gf????

username137 alex was winning both ways

username138 PLEASEEEEE

username139 ICONIC.

username140 IUHGBSN????????????

username141 i dont believe in love

username142 FACE CARD IS LETHAL

username143 WHAT DID I MISS????

username144 SOBBING i love them sm

username145 if glazing them every single second was a crime id be 89 feet under

username146 GOD HAS FAVOURITES !!!

username147 THE SHIT????

username148 counting down the days tilll we get y/nalex appearance in the paddock

username149 the people's princess'

username150 STOP i just realised that y/n speaks to alex in italian bc alex is italian (by nationality) and alex speaks french to y/n bc y/n is monagesque (french speaking country)

username151 the aura from them is DIABOLICAL

username152 THATS SO....?? WTF IM IN LOVE

username153 i NEED a relationship like this

username154 OMG THATS SO ROMANTIC KILL ME

username155 i died

username156 GET THESE GIRLS THOSE RINGS NOWWWWWW

username157 they need to get married ASAP

alexandrasaintmleux i love you so so so so much

yourusername forever and always

alexandrasaintmleux until the end

yourusername 🫶🫶

alexandrasaintmleux 🤍🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc my favourite sister and her girlfriend

alexandrasaintmleux thank you charles!

yourusername i'm your only sister

alexandrasaintmleux ange...

yourusername what i'm just saying the truth

alexandrasaintmleux i love you more than anything in this entire universe my angel

yourusername i love you more than you'd ever know, pretty girl

arthur_leclerc GET A ROOM

lorenzotl arthur be nice

arthur_leclerc i'm not 5

yourusername then act like it

charles_leclerc guys stop fighting

yourusername HE STARTED IT

arthur_leclerc NO???

yourusername YES???

alexandrasaintmleux now we have to wait while they sort it out

charles_leclerc which could take decades

lorenzotl seems like it

username158 FUCKING FUCK OFF

username159 ok thats it im jumpiing off a cliff

username160 ive never seen something more funny and its in a fucking instagram comment section

username161 im actually crying

username162 i love them so much i hope nothing ever happens to them

username163 my heart is paining i cant take this anymore

username164 i need to know what charles feels about y/n dating his gf

yourusername he never dated her i was dating her it was all a pr stunt so we dont get attacked by homophobes

alexandrasaintmleux this worked out better than we thought

yourusername yeah i didnt think we'd get so much love

charles_leclerc you deserve it all

yourusername thank you charlie 🫶 love youuu

charles_leclerc love you too petit lapin

username165 no i refuse bye i cant

username166 PETIT LAPIN IS SO CUTE STOP ITTTTT

username167 the a in alexandra saint mleux starts for a lovesick fool for y/n

username168 THE WAY THEY STARE AT EACH OTHERRR>>>>>

username169 how i wish for love like this

username170 greatest love story frrr

alexandrasaintmleux has made their account public & posted three new stories !

caption 1: cherry red🍒 // caption 2: y/n holding leo!! // caption 3: 🤍🤍🤍

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @iamred-iamyellow (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[nadvs]

first prize desire (one-shot)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating mature 18+

summary your brother’s friend, rafe, is good at a lot of things. hiding his infatuation with you isn’t one of them. one night, you stop teasing him and finally give him what he’s been dreaming of.

tags college au where rafe and reader are varsity volleyball players. reader is a noncommittal f-girl. rafe is down bad for her. mentions of past infidelity. lots of angst and some light smut. not a happy ending.

» masterlist

note hello, i’m back!! a little while ago, i got an ask about a f-girl reader who’s been hurt in the past and is a little mean to rafe and i’m obsessed at the thought of him pining and lowkey being a simp for her?? this one goes out to my girlies with trust issues <3 divider credit.

You have to be doing it on purpose.

Rafe’s grip on his gym bag tightens as he steps out of the men’s locker room. The door shuts behind him with a heavy thud.

The girls’ team has the court now. You’re by the end line closest to him, only a few feet away as you stretch. You’re bent over with your back arched and he slowly paces towards the gym exit, his mouth going dry at the way you look.

The sight of you in those little shorts always throws his thoughts into a frenzy. Seeing your ass perched in the air like that makes him feel even more disoriented.

The varsity volleyball schedule is simultaneously the best and worst thing that has happened to him. Twice a week, Rafe steps out into the gym, exhausted from practice, to see you warming up, always tormenting him with how good you look.

You stepped into his life a few months ago at the beginning of the school year. His friend had mentioned that his sister would be starting college and that she plays volleyball, too.

The first time you came over to the house he shares with your brother and a few other guys on the team, he knew he was going to like being around you.

Until he got to know what a tease you are.

You stand up from your stretch, placing your hands on your hips as you look over your shoulder.

“Hey, Rafe,” you sing-song, your voice sweet as sugar. His hair is wet from his post-practice shower, hanging over his forehead. “Your hair’s cute like that.”

He was right. You are doing it on purpose. You knew he was there and you purposely put yourself on display for him like that, like a treat he knows he can’t have. For fuck’s sake. He’s never wanted a girl this bad.

Rafe’s lips flatten as he nods in greeting, stopping in his tracks. You’re not sure if the rosy tint to his cheeks is a product of a rough practice or a distressed blush from having seen you in such a suggestive position.

“Are you coming to watch our game tomorrow?” you ask, just loud enough over the voices echoing through the gym.

Rafe steps closer. You adore it about him, how he always looks like he’s been hinging on a opportunity to talk to you.

“Should I?” he asks.

“Sure. I know you like any excuse to look at me,” you reply with a shrug.

He scoffs, a mix of incredulity and amusement. He’s obvious about how bad he wants you, he knows he is, and that’s why it makes it ten times worse that you toy with him like this.

“You never watch our games,” he responds.

“I’m a busy girl,” you laugh.

He knows that. And he wishes he didn’t. He wishes he didn’t have to see you jump from guy to guy, snuggled up to a different one at every other party, never staying long enough to call any of them your boyfriend.

A couple of weekends ago, Rafe had been one too many beers deep. Pressed against the wall at a house party, he gazed at you through heavy lids and asked if you were ever going to find a guy you liked enough to actually keep around. You laughed and told him, “I’m not the commitment type.”

“I’ll see if I can make it,” Rafe says, because even though he’s a goner when it comes to you, he tries to keep at least some dignity intact and feign indifference.

“Hope you can,” you respond, smirking. His eyes go a little brighter. You know that means he’ll come.

You’re a whirlwind, a storm constantly passing over him, leaving him spinning. Time and time again, he gets just close enough to the edge of thinking he has a chance with you, and then you pull back.

Your flirty looks and dirty jokes are maddening and any time he’s tried to do anything about it, you’d say you’re not going to complicate things with your brother’s friend, especially when he lives with him.

Off limits, you’d once whispered in his ear at a party, but your body was pressed up against his so tightly that it didn’t seem like you wanted a boundary between you two at all.

Rafe’s name echoes from behind him. He turns to see your brother leaving the locker room, donning a confused expression.

“You leaving without me?” he laughs, walking towards him.

Rafe would never tell him that he purposely rushed out to get a glimpse of you.

⫘⫘⫘

The minutes before the start of a game is when you feel the most pressure. More than during the actual match. You know if you don’t feel proud of your performance, you fall into a funk nobody can pull you out of.

You rub your palms together as you wait for your turn in a spiking drill. The other team just arrived, warming up on the other side of the court.

You thought you didn’t mind these opponents all that much. Their team is usually weaker than yours. But they have a new player and seeing her familiar face makes your blood boil.

Rafe makes it to the gym after class, two sets into the match. It’s 1-1 and the air is heavy with tension. The gym is quiet as he settles in the bleachers, the thumps of hands hitting the volleyball rolling across the court.

You’re panting as you hurry around, dodging your teammates while never letting the ball hit the floor.

You look more stressed than usual.

He almost gets right up again to leave, irritated at himself. This is the crap a boyfriend would do; come watch your games, worry about the anger etched on your pretty face. Yet all he gets called is a friend while you entertain other guys right in front of him.

But then he smirks a second later when he sees you frustratingly mutter something to your teammate after the opposing team wins a point.

Rafe revels in seeing your temper come out. It’s cute. And it makes him feel better about his.

A few minutes in, though, he sees anger flare up in you like never before. A girl on the opposing team blocks your spike and seems to murmur something to you.

You fight back, loud enough for him to hear. You snap at her to shut up. One of your teammates holds you back. The ref blows the whistle.

It’s a misconduct foul. Something’s up with you and he doesn’t know what.

The rest of the game has an added level of intensity. It results in a loss for the home team. You’re wearing the disappointment in your expression.

Rafe decides to leave. You always take your sweet time after a match and he’s not about to make an even bigger fool of himself by waiting outside for a girl who messes with him for wanting her so bad.

But still, because he’s so pathetically into you, he texts you later on: rough game. you good?

You don’t respond.

⫘⫘⫘

The next day, Rafe hasn’t gotten over you ignoring him. He’s not really one to let go of things all that quick.

And he’s had enough. Of the teasing and the flirting and the indifference you have towards him while all he does is long for you. You have all the power and he’s sick of it.

It’s not hard for him to find the girl you’d argued with on the court. It’s a matter of searching on her college’s athletic department website, learning her name, and finding her on social media.

He chats with her, invites her to his house party the next night, and because it’s easy for him to get any girl to agree to hang out with him, unless she’s you, she accepts.

He can’t wait for you to see him with her.

⫘⫘⫘

You make it to the house the next night, showing enough skin that makes Rafe’s stomach grow tight. You nudge your brother’s shoulder in greeting, then shuffle closer to Rafe see him nursing a beer.

“Hey,” you say over the music. He towers over you, a crease between his brows. He wears everything on his handsome face, incredibly easy to read.

“You mad at me for not texting back?” you ask playfully, squeezing his forearm. “Sorry. I was in a shitty mood after that game.”

“Why?” he asks, reluctantly softening up. You hardly ever show him this side of yourself. You’re usually a few drinks in if you do.

“Did you see that girl I yelled at?”

He nods, Adam’s apple bobbing with a nervous swallow.

“I know her,” you explain, “and she’s not very nice.”

“You’re not very nice,” Rafe jokes.

“Then imagine how bad she is if I’m the one calling her that,” you say with a soft laugh.

“What’d she do?” he asks.

As expected, you wave a dismissive hand, rolling your eyes, blocking him out.

“Nothing worth repeating,” you reply. You bring your hand up to his bicep, squeezing the hard muscle. “Did you go to the gym today?”

Rafe’s eyes dart down to his beer, the attention from you another hit to his bloodstream, a dopamine rush he’s been missing.

“Hit a PR,” he replies.

“Wow,” you flirt. “We should go to the gym together. You’d be a good personal trainer.”

“You couldn’t handle me,” he replies.

You bite your bottom lip, smiling up at him. Nobody gets your heart racing quite like Rafe does.

And it’s why you stay away from him. Getting involved with a brother’s friend is already a bad idea just because it could get messy, but really, it’s the effect he has on you that scares you away.

You’ve been burned. The summer before college started, you discovered your serious boyfriend had never really respected you. You’re pretty sure someone’s first love always leaves a wound. But finding out they were cheating on you the whole time leaves a scar that never closes back up all the way.

“I don’t know,” you reply, pushing away your thoughts. “Pretty sure you couldn’t handle me.”

Rafe’s pink lips part as he looks down again. He shuffles in place so faintly that it’s nearly imperceptible.

“Not like you’d give me a chance to try,” he mumbles with a defeated smile.

No. You wouldn’t. Because the more you get to know Rafe, a man who at first seems hard and aggressive, but really just wears his heart on his sleeve, the more you can see yourself falling for him.

His intensity is overwhelming. It’s something you don’t see in most people. He’s a beautiful rarity of a man and you stay far away from any kind of real intimacy with him, because while you can hook up with other guys with no attachments, tangling yourself up with Rafe would make you susceptible to another wound.

“You know you could get any girl you want, right?” you say to him, voice gently dropping into a serious tone you don’t often use with him.

His phone buzzes in a staccato. He pulls it out of his pocket. Damn it.

“Hey, I’m here,” she says when he answers.

“You’re here?” he blankly repeats.

“You invited someone?” you tease. “And you’re standing here flirting with me? Shameful.”

You offer him a smile to show him you’re kidding around. The dull sting you feel from knowing he’s probably talking to a girl is a good reminder of why you keep him at an arm’s length.

It may not be reasonable to be a little annoyed, considering you’re always running around with different guys right in front of him, but you can’t help it.

Rafe hangs up, a tinge of regret pinching his chest. It took a few seconds with you to realize his spitefulness just fucked things up.

“Go get your girl,” you say with raised brows, stepping aside. “I need a drink.”

“Hey, it’s…” Rafe’s face pinches with concern, leaning to be closer to you. “Don’t be pissed off at me.”

“Pissed off?” You usually do a great job feigning indifference around him. You hope he doesn’t somehow see the crack in your armor.

“It’s that girl,” he replies. “The one from…”

“The game?” you say soberly.

Rafe hates the way your smile drops. The way your eyes search his face for an explanation.

“Whatever,” you reply after a beat. “Do what you want.”

It’s kind of a sick thrill to have the upperhand for once. He’s flustered when you tease, but now, your eyes are sharp with frustration, your lips turned down in a scowl that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is.

“You sure?” he says. You nod curtly.

“Not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”

He’s sure you say it just to twist the dagger already lodged in his heart. It works.

⫘⫘⫘

Your stomach is in a knot. You’re at the back of the living room, purposely as far away from Rafe as you can be.

And she’s there, looking up at him with a sickeningly bright smile. The same smile she used on your ex. The same smile you’re sure she wore when she texted you how it’d been ‘weighing on her soul’ that she’s been sneaking around with him.

It was all bullshit. You know she was proud to play a hand in your heartbreak. She never looked torn up about it at all. If she did, she wouldn’t have provoked you at your past match.

Missed, she’d said mockingly. It took everything in you not to hit her.

Again, you’re inches away from doing it. Every minute she stays here, you get closer. You wouldn’t normally be angry at the woman your boyfriend cheated with if she didn’t know. If she was a stranger, she wouldn’t have owed you any loyalty.

But she knew. She was your friend.

You’ve been trying not to care anymore. You started this year with the intention to leave all the high school shit behind and have fun and not give your heart to a man. Not for a long time.

But seeing her brings it all back.

“What’s up?” you hear. You look up at your brother.

He knows how your relationship ended. When he heard what your ex did to you, he offered to beat the shit out of him, but no amount of revenge ever felt like it could undo your pain.

He never met your ex-friend. He has no idea who the woman Rafe is flirting with is.

“The music sucks,” you reply, wincing as the bass reverberates through the room.

“You always had shitty taste,” he replies. You crack a smile. It falls when you remember how he’d said the same about your ex, long before the breakup.

“I need a breather,” you say.

It doesn’t happen very often, so when you see worry wash over your big brother’s face, it jolts you a little.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Just need to spare my eardrums.”

He huffs a laugh, gently pushing you as you step away from him.

⫘⫘⫘

Come upstairs.

Rafe stares down at the text from you, sent three minutes ago. He looks up at the girl he invited as she comes back to him, arm linked with a friend she’d called to join the party.

He’s stiff as they make introductions. Then he tells them he’ll be right back.

Rafe’s bedroom is lived in, but it’s not quite messy. Clothes are strewn across an open drawer and on the back of his desk chair, but his textbooks are neat on the shelf and his bed is made.

You turned on his dim nightstand lamp. You stare ahead at the calendar on his closet door, practices and games written in black pen.

You lean against the headboard, squeezing your fingers, teetering towards crying. It’s a sick joke to like a guy again just to watch the same woman enamour him.

The door opens with a soft click, music spilling in for a moment.

Rafe has dreamed of this, coming up to see you in his bed. But in his dreams, you’re not staring at him like he just massively fucked up.

He doesn’t say a word. He only looks at you with confusion.

“I take it back,” you say, sitting up. “I don’t want her here.”

“What?” he says.

“Tell her to leave.”

Hope warms his core. Are you jealous?

“It’s my house,” he answers flippantly, giving you the same blasé attitude you’ve always given him.

You scoff. He crosses the room and sits at the foot of his bed, the mattress sinking with his weight. He’s never heard this thinness in your voice before.

“Can you just do it? Please?” you say shakily.

“What happened between you two?”

“You know what?” you scoff frustratingly, swinging your legs over the edge. “Fuck it. I’ll just go.”

“Stop,” he says sternly. “Tell me.”

He may have never seen you this vulnerable, but you’ve never seen him this mad. At least, not at you.

You thought Rafe had a soft spot for you. It hurts that it doesn’t seem to be there anymore. But then he sighs, head tilting slightly as he takes your hand.

“If you– you…” he begins, words fast and tumbling together. You’ve noticed he stammers when he’s on edge. “If you need me to kick her out, then, fine.”

“Really?” you say.

He sighs your name in exhausted resignation, looking up at the ceiling. You’re not jealous. You just really don’t like this girl. It has nothing to do with him and that hurts.

He nods in response. He knows you know he’d do anything for you.

Despite your instinct telling you to call an end to the conversation, the warmth of his hand on yours is piercing. You look down at your lap, turning his big hand over, calluses on his fingertips similar to yours from volleyball.

He gazes at you, his pulse picking up as your eyelashes stay low over your eyes, blinking quickly.

“I had a boyfriend,” you say quietly. “He cheated on me. With her.”

Rafe’s body goes cold. The irritation he was feeling has been replaced by biting guilt. He would’ve told her not to even bother coming in if you had just shared the truth.

“I didn’t know,” he murmurs. The shame is worse with every second that passes. He got what he wanted; he hurt you. And he hates himself for it.

“Yeah,” you say. You find his eyes, bottomless seas of blue. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

“I don’t want it to be like that,” he admits. “And I make it pretty damn obvious.”

You look down again, huffing a quiet laugh.

“Yeah, you do,” you reply.

You’ve always felt a sense of control over Rafe, but it’s chipping away, pieces being taken from you and given to him. You shouldn’t have opened this wound. Because now, you just want to smother it with temporary bandages.

Rafe’s jaw tenses as he watches your hand on his. Silence settles between you, your breaths heavy, the music muffled.

He’s not sure what’s next.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you say.

“I won’t,” he rasps.

“Not about that,” you say. “Well… yeah, about that. But I meant about this.”

You shift to straddle him, the backs of your thighs resting on his lap. He meets your eyes as your noses nearly brush together.

You lean in. His breath stops when your lips meet his.

His heart-rate skyrockets. Fuck. This is really happening. His hands find your thighs, fingers pressing into your flesh.

You gently grind up against him as your kisses grow hungrier, mouths opening, breaths shortening.

You take him in, the smell of his aftershave and the taste of his tongue, as your arms link around his broad shoulders. You already feel better, feeling him hold you and kiss you like this.

He’s getting hard. It makes fire swirl in your stomach.

“Tell me,” you whisper against his mouth, desperate to feel even better, “how bad you want me.”

“You’re all I fucking think about,” he admits breathily.

“Which parts of me do you think about?”

“Everything,” he groans. “Fucking everything.”

You wish he would’ve just said something physical to solidify this as the casual hook-up it is. You can’t handle it being more.

“We’ll keep this a secret, okay?” you whisper.

“I know.” Rafe kisses you again, willing to say anything just to keep this going.

You gently push his shoulders so he lies back. Clothes are clumsily shoved off, kisses grow messy, and once you feel all of him, your head swims with euphoria, blocking out the impending regret.

You stay on top to at least hold onto some of the control you have left.

He comes with a groan, clinging onto your waist with trembling fingers as if you’ll run away from him.

But you do run away. It’s over and you sit up and scramble to put your clothes on again, the high gone, the crash on its way.

“Shit,” you whisper.

Rafe’s smile fades, his chest heaving. He sits up.

“Why are you acting like you regret it?” he asks.

He wants to give you his shirt, stay in bed with you, trace his fingers over your skin and tell you how badly he’s always wanted you.

You look at him with furrowed brows.

“We can’t tell anyone.”

“You already said that,” he mutters. “It’s not like we have to give details, but… nobody’s going to lose their shit if we’re together. Your brother isn’t like that.”

“No,” you shake your head. “This was just sex.”

It’s not a sudden break. His heart cracks slowly. It’s a fracture, spreading through his chest. He’s empty.

“So, I’m just…” He scoffs, tongue jutting under his cheek. “I’m just another one of the guys you do this to.”

“Don’t,” you say softly. “I told you I don’t date.”

You did, but he thought he was different.

You stand, smoothing your hair.

“Because of one asshole?” he murmurs, angrily picking up his t-shirt.

It hurts that something you told him in a vulnerable moment is ammo now. He’s being harsh and you know you are, too, but it’s the last thing you need right now.

“Don’t bring it up again,” you say with a strain in your voice. “Any of it. I knew I…”

Your throat starts to feel raw as you pace past him towards the door, desperate to get home and be swallowed in your blankets. Alone. Like you should be. Not chasing temporary relief in hook-ups.

“What did you know?” Rafe says to your back, tone softened. His anger is gone. It takes one glimpse into your pain to erase his own. He just wants to make you feel better.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” you murmur, staring at the door handle. “I can’t trust anyone.”

You leave. You gave him what he thought he wanted most, but he can see now that this hollow version of having you is the last thing he’d ever want.

You’ve ticked him off your list. You’re done. He’s in your rearview now, a quick hook-up that you wish you didn’t have.

⫘⫘⫘

You’ve been home for less than five minutes when your phone buzzes with a text from Rafe.

Make it home okay?

You swallow hard and respond: yes. didn’t mean to freak out. friends?

Rafe chews on his lip as he stares at his phone. He hasn’t left his bedroom.

yeah, he replies. There’s no point in pretending he doesn’t want you, even if you push him back into the role he’d been playing before.

Fine. He’ll be your fucking friend. He already lost his pride long ago. But tonight is the first time he’s truly lost the hope he had in you.

(the end)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[bookwormjust]

Sisterhood and Sweet Cravings : Love Shared in Simple Moments

(Azriel x mate reader)

The living room was warm and cozy, the three of you sprawled across the sofas and cushions, talking and laughing about anything and everything. Feyre was rubbing her slightly rounded belly absentmindedly when she suddenly sat up straighter, her eyes sparkling.

“I need chocolate ice cream,” she announced, “with strawberries. Right now.”

Nesta, who had been flipping through a book, groaned dramatically. “Of course you do,” she muttered, setting her book down. “You’ve been talking about sweets all day.”

You laughed softly, sitting up from your spot. “Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

Feyre waved her hands frantically. “No, no, you don’t have to! I shouldn’t even eat it. I’ll feel like a whale if I do.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and gave her a pointed look. “If I eat it with you, you won’t feel alone. Deal?”

Feyre blinked at you, her expression softening as a smile tugged at her lips. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” you replied with a grin, already making your way toward the kitchen. “That’s what sisters are for!”

Behind you, Nesta sighed heavily. “If you bring any for me, I swear I’ll throw it at you.”

You laughed over your shoulder. “Noted.”

In the kitchen, you grabbed the chocolate ice cream and fresh strawberries, preparing two bowls. One was much larger, piled high with extra scoops and an artful arrangement of strawberries—perfect for Feyre. When everything was ready, you carried the bowls back to the living room, balancing them carefully.

As you passed by Feyre, you stopped, crouching down beside her. With a playful smile, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her belly. “Eat well, my little nephew,” you murmured softly, your voice filled with affection.

Feyre’s cheeks turned pink, and she laughed, her hand coming to rest on her belly. “You’re too sweet.”

From the balcony, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel watched the scene unfold.

“She’s a natural,” Rhysand said, his voice tinged with pride as he leaned against the railing, his violet eyes soft as he watched you interact with Feyre.

Cassian chuckled, nudging Azriel. “You’ve got a good one, brother. She’s going to spoil that kid rotten.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on you as you handed Feyre her bowl with a warm smile and settled back down to eat beside her. A soft smile played on his lips, his shadows curling lazily around him. “She already does.”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head. “You two are lucky. More than you know.”

Cassian snorted. “I know I am. I just need Nesta to admit it.”

“Good luck with that,” Rhysand quipped, earning a laugh from all three males as they continued to watch their family with quiet contentment.

[concenecxere]

this is so beautifully put. i mean gorgeous. i am not caught up so i am effectively spoiling myself but funnily enough i actually tried to talk to my mother about this while watching s1 bc at the same time i'd been reading a chapter of this book about compulsory sexuality (refusing compulsory sexuality: a black asexual lens on our sex-obsessed culture by sherronda j brown) which really encouraged this exploration for me. like so much of what stood out to me was the direct comparison of innie marks interrogation of his own creation being spurred on whilst dealing with integrating helly into the severed floor (and the loss of petey) vs his sister on the outside having her first child. helly r is almost a petulant child to him at first, an inconvenience to the order of things although necessary for their workplace function at lumon (like ops gf said, just like helena mark as her boss almost resents the freedom with which helly is defiant), until of course he really reconciles the severity and the lengths she goes to and turns inward and wonders why he never stopped to question it all himself. so we see these motivations for reproduction in direct contrast -- in the story of mark the final goal of his reproduction is productivity (by separating himself from his trauma), versus devon and rickan taking an approach to reproduction "more virtuously" by comparison (like excited for the journey of raising a unique human being). now this is the point where i realized i was talking to my mother and didnt really have my thoughts wrapped around it and wanted to begin that type of conversation with more nuance and the conversation naturally returned back to the show.

but! back to the book by sherronda j brown -- it has a whole chapter on productivity, partially tackling how capitalism incorporates productivity into nuclear family making which kind of effectively pulls the magic out of the point of a family. a child is not something that you can utilize/form for some present/later convenience, they're a human being with their own unique ambitions and the beauty of parenthood is often watching them discover that etc etc. but capitalism looks to control family making as it is a method of economic stimulation. again this requires a lot of nuance, because since we are so embedded in capitalism in some ways you have no choice but to be implicit even if you are aware, and you can be doing this wether you realize it or not. i also want to be sure i acknowledge that i am by no means an expert on this i just felt emboldened to get into it here. alongside those examples given by the amazing prev posts/tags this is illustrated in real life by how so many people are realizing using children as a contingency plan for who'll take care of you when you age or like expecting grandchildren from your own children. like its absolutely not a bad thing to want these things but assuming no matter how you treat your children that its their responsibility to fulfill that for you is bull -- and objectively to expect this is not even always guaranteed biologically for several reasons but i digress. a child is their own person worthy of respect and if you don't give it to them they don't/shouldn't owe you present or future compliance (again theres nuance, even in severance given the outies varying levels of awareness of/care about their innies treatment) but capitalism is a part of perpetuating this. as so many now realize if you are surrounded by real true community confirmed elder care and the opportunity to be a grandparent-like mentor is/should be available without nuclear family to fulfill it. the power of found family and all that beautiful stuff! particularly when imagined with a queer lens. but capitalism has taught us intentionally that all of this should come from the heteronormative nuclear family and is only valid when derived from a heteronormative nuclear family in order to isolate us from one another and sell us these opportunities in other ways for their own gain. anyways i've danced all around it myself but brown says the following far more concisely in their amazing book (which i look forward to finishing).

"anxiety about the sex recession among young people is also anxiety about an accompanying decrease in marriage, nuclear family making, and home ownership. all of these things are intimately related and impact our economy, especially because they are so easily capitalized on. those invested in the capitalist system work to convince us that these are necessary parts of life and that participation in them makes us more mature adults and 'productive' members of society... therefore, cisheterosexual sex itself becomes a means of productivity because it is understood to ultimately lead to marriage, procreation, and nuclear families, all of which are integral to patriarchal and white supremactist capitalist systems."

its so remarkably layered i would love to pick the brains of the writers about it all!! lumon offering severance and the creation of an innie as this amazing way to free themselves from the monotony of a job or like the weight of the outside world on their work. but of course this job is necessitated by the capitalist society they exist within and the thing that drives them all to severance is what capitalism forces them to believe they have wrong with themselves or have to achieve to be successful. so then when they create their innie, or "have their child" as it were, and the child demands more love than you ever thought you were allowed the capitalism worm in your brain has already prepped you to place the blame on the child and not realize the system is what has it all wrong. and even if you do understand the systems driven you to this point the cost that you've paid for being compliant all this time is this life you now get to watch your child live.

my gf said something sooo insane about helly the other day and i cannot stop thinking about it. she was like. helena and helly’s relationship is almost maternal. the way helena created helly as an extension of herself, to serve her interests, to try and impress her own family. she scolds helly, talks down to her like a child. “i understand you’re unhappy with the life you’ve been given” “i am a person, you are not”. the way she envies and resents helly’s freedom. the way she feels entitled to helly’s life and is now living vicariously through her in the most literal sense. what if you created life and now they’re experiencing the things you’ve always wanted for yourself. what if you created life and they were flawed and loud and demanding and they were loved more than you’ve ever been. and you hated them for it. the mother/daughterisms are insane my girlfriend is insane

[checkeredflagggs]

Footnote of a Story

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: Logan and his girlfriend have been together for over 10 years — people have posted about it 8 times

a/n: this is canon to the story of us story, just some backstory that probably won’t be talked about in the main story at all

a/n2: I fiddled about with the timeline of the Covid quarantine — namely that it was already happening by Valentine’s Day

a/n3: I also don’t know when Oscar and Lily started dating so here it’s when they’re 16

Masterlist | Taglist

10 Years Old

y/ns_mother

liked by sargeant1, l/n1, sargeant2, and 183 others

y/ns_mother: well it looks like y/n has a crush…she was very determined to make “the bestest card ever and make sure it’s the good candy mom!”

view all comments

sargeant1: logan was the same way…he nearly talked me into buying a bouquet bigger then is he for her

↳y/ns_mother: they’re so adorable

↳sargeant1: they really are

sargeant2: oh young love…

↳l/n1: i guess when you know you know…doesn’t matter the age…i guess

↳sargeant2: they are very cute together

randocousin: giving us all old timers a bad name 😹

↳drunkaunt: bah they won’t last…once they get to the real world…nothing ever lasts…

↳rudecousin: just cause your marriage failed doesn’t mean theirs will. You’re just a mean old drunk

↳randocousin: not this shit again…

not_y/n: not_logan I told you — I knew very young that you were the one for me

↳not_logan: I won’t doubt you again babe

↳not_y/n: I don’t know why you doubted me in the first place ngl liked by not_logan

not_oscar: oh so you guys have always been this grossly in love

↳not_y/n: booo you grinch liked by not_logan, not_lilyz

12 Years Old

y/n_mother

liked by l/n1, drunkaunt, weirduncle, sargeant3, 212 others

y/ns_mother: we might have a little baker on our hands…y/n was adamant that she had to cook these cookies all by herself

view all comments

l/n1: she didn’t even let me have one…

sargeant3: logan was beaming when he came home with these…

↳y/ns_mother: I’m not going to tell them of course…but we’ve started a little wedding fund for them

↳sargeant3: so have we. It’s very obvious where this is going to go

↳y/ns_mother: oh I can’t wait…

drunkaunt: their still together??

↳rudecousin: they’re*

↳rudecousin: and they are! Shockingly relationships can last longer then the hangover the next day

↳drunkaunt: do not start something with me…you weren’t they’re for it

↳rudecousin: there*

↳randocousin: must you rudecousin?

↳rudecousin: she makes it so easy!

↳drunkaunt: your a mean little man

↳randocousin: don’t

↳rudecousin: …you’re drunkaunt

not_logan: I didn’t know you baked those!

↳not_y/n: yeah that was the last time I attempted that

↳not_y/n: not pictured was my mom’s destroyed kitchen…liked by not_logan

14 Years Old

y/n privated a post

liked by y/ns_mother, sister, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 469 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: 💜💜 he got me a card!

view all comments

logansargeant: I always get you a card!

↳y/n: I know but now I can post it for everyone to see!

y/ns_mother: oh to see you guys now…4 years strong

↳y/n: moooooommm go be embarrassing on your own post

oscarpiastri: so you’re the reason he couldn’t stop looking at his phone?

↳y/n: I am! And you are?

↳logansargeant: y/n this is one of my friends from karting! Meet Oscar — he’s the Australian

↳y/n: hi Australian Oscar!

↳oscarpiastri: don’t you mean best friend logansargeant?

↳y/n: HE DOES NOT CAUSE THATS ME!!

↳logansargeant: my best karting friend but the best friend spot has always been hers liked by y/n

16 Years Old

not_logan

liked by not_y/n, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 392 others

tagged: not_y/n

not_logan: a small day spent together before someone goes off on a national tour!

Congrats baby — I’m so fucking proud of you 🩵🩵

view all comments

not_y/n: thank you babe! For both the day and for the constant support you’ve given me over the years

↳not_logan: always!

not_oscar: congrats again on the tour y/n!

↳not_y/n: thanks osc! And lmk if you can make any of the dates — I’ll get you tickets

↳not_oscar: oh Logan already has it all planned out

↳not_y/n: awwww

y/ns_mother: oh I’m so proud of you two

↳not_y/n: mom please…

↳not_logan: thanks mum l/n!

↳not_y/n: don’t encourage her!

not_lilyz: oh you guys are so cute!

↳not_y/n: thanks Lily!

↳not_y/n: and thanks again for making a private account

↳not_lilyz: oh that’s not a problem — and is probably good planning for the future

↳not_oscar:😳😳

yoursister: haven’t heard from drunkaunt in a while…she ok?

↳rudecousin: still drunk and mean

↳not_y/n: it’s just neither Logan or I friended her — in fact I blocked her on this account 😂

↳yoursister: good call

18 Years Old

not_y/n

liked by not_logan, y/ns_mother, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 273 others

tagged: not_logan

not_y/n: awwwweee… my baby surprised me back in Florida. Thank you for coming home to me for Valentine’s Day

view all comments

not_logan: glad I managed to catch you before you leave me again 😔

↳not_y/n: nooooo I’m so sorry baby

↳not_y/n: you say the word and I’ll pack you up in my suitcase and take you everywhere with me

↳not_logan: …I’m not there yet but I’ll let you know

y/ns_mother: oh I’m so glad you managed to catch her…with my handwriting I wasn’t sure if she left the 13th or the 18th…

↳not_logan: thanks for all your help mum l/n!

↳not_y/n: thanks for helping him surprise me mama

↳y/ns_mother: of course baby

not_oscar: I don’t think that’s part of your diet Logan…

↳not_lilyz: like you haven’t cheated on yours a hundred times in the last month…

↳not_oscar: 😑😑

↳not_y/n: have I mentioned I love you recently lily?? liked by not_lilyz

rudecousin: heads up — drunkaunt spotted this over my shoulder and started a rant while going for her keys

↳not_y/n: …I’m gonna go start my tour early…

↳not_logan: I’m gonna head back to England real fast

↳yoursister: cowards

↳not_y/n: yup

↳not_logan: absolutely

20 Years Old

not_logan

liked by not_y/n, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 231 others

tagged: not_y/n

not_logan: fun activities to do while locked up during Valentine’s Day…

view all comments

not_y/n: we’re gonna be cooking champs by the time this ends 💪🏻

↳not_logan: I love you so much but I really hope we’re not locked up that long…

↳not_y/n: 🥺🥺🥺

↳not_logan: again I love you so much but we burned water yesterday…

↳not_y/n: ok that’s fair

↳not_oscar: how???

↳not_y/n: we’re simply that talented

↳not_logan: we got distracted 😉😉

↳not_oscar: ewww I don’t need to know that liked by not_y/n, not_logan

y/ns_mother: oh I hope you guys are doing ok…I’d be there for you if I could…love you guys…

↳not_y/n: we’re doing ok mama!!

↳not_logan: …we’re not dead yet but our lack of kitchen skills are becoming more evident…

↳y/ns_mother: oh no…don’t worry baby…I’ll get yoursister to help me video you…I’ll teach you to cook…

↳not_y/n: thank you mama 🙏🙏

not_lilyz: ok so I’m a little jealous…

↳not_y/n: awwww lily we miss you!

↳not_lilyz: miss you guys too

↳not_oscar: 🤨

↳not_lilyz: …their food looks so much better than yours

↳not_y/n: at least you guys can cook something — ours is just anything we could cut into a heart shape… liked by not_lilyz, not_oscar

bandmember: you guys are so cute…

↳not_y/n: thank you 😊

↳not_y/n: also check your mail…there might be something for you…😈😈😈

↳bandmember2: oh???????

sargeant4: how’s the weather over there?

↳not_logan: 😑🙄 cold and snowy

↳not_logan: not that we can see any of it…

↳not_y/n: it could be worse!

↳not_logan: how?

↳not_y/n: we could be stuck in your apartment and not my house

↳not_logan: …that’s true I guess

22 Years Old

logansargeant posted a story, not_y/n posted a story

[thank you to my girl! 🩵🩵🩵][oh Logan my love…an ocean apart and yet you spoil me so…]

user1 replied A GIRL?!? Logan Sargeant do you have a girlfriend!

user2 replied GIRLFRIEND???

georgerussell63 replied oh that’s cute!

oscarpiastri replied maybe I need to tag Lily in this…

↳logansargeant oh she’s already seen it

↳oscarpiastri 🫣😨

↳logansargeant didn’t know you wanted flowers and presents though…

↳oscarpiastri who doesn’t…

oscarpiastri replied you guys keep setting the bar high

↳not_y/n gotta get on my level osc

↳oscarpiastri 🙄

lilyzneimer replied brb going to make Oscar take notes…

↳not_y/n he said pretty much the same thing…

↳lilyzneimer 🤣🤣

yoursister replied you guys are literally the only reason I believe in love still

↳not_y/n awww babes it’ll happen for you soon

↳yoursister maybe sooner than you think…

↳not_y/n oh???

y/ns_mother replied oh your young love…

↳not_y/n he’s the one mama

↳y/ns_mother oh baby I know…I’ve known for over a decade now…

↳not_y/n 🥰🥰🥰

25 Years Old (after the Story of Us)

y/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and 12,697,283 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: You can hear it in the silence, You can feel it on the way home, You are in love, true love

view all comments

user3: oh my god so lovely!

user4: Logan Sargeant I wasn’t familiar with your game…

lilymhe: oh my god did Logan get you all that?

↳y/n: he did! He’s a real romantic

↳lilymhe: awww 🥺

↳lilymhe: alex_albon take notes please

↳alex_albon: oh no

↳oscarpiastri: oh this is very common

↳oscarpiastri: get used to it. They’ve been like this since they were 10

↳user5: shut up that’s so cute

oscarpiastri: please stop

↳logansargeant: I will not.

↳y/n: you just gotta do better

↳oscarpiastri: I try but you guys keep raising the bar

↳y/n: skill issue

↳user6: you can tell you guys have been friends for a while…

↳y/n: about 10 years now!

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @theendofthematerialgworl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

 “I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her.  “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?”  she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

[enwoso]

Hey, lessi idea for you, including leah. Mabye alessia and leah talk about their future together with lovie and expanding their family. Merry Christmas

PLUS ONE | alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

a warm glow filtered through the living room window as it cased a golden glow over alessia's cosy home. it was a rare afternoon where life slowed down - no training, no meetings, just quiet family time. 

alessia and leah were sprawled on the couch, legs tangled comfortably beneath a fuzzy blanket while you were perched at the coffee table with your colour book. your tongue poking out in concentration as you cautiously coloured in a princess dress bright purple, making sure to stay within the lines. your crayons scattered around like confetti.

leah leaning her head back against the couch, her hand lazily tracing circles on alessia's arms. "this is nice," she mumured, her voice soft. 

alessia hummed in agreement, resting her head on leah's shoulder, "we don't get enough days like this" leah smiled and pressed a kiss to alessia's hair, keeping it brief when your little eyes were around - mainly because you had a tendency to make dramatic gagging noises whenever you caught them being affectionate with one another.

"do you ever think about the future?" leah asked quietly after a moment, her fingers now toying with alessia's as she played with the girls rings.

alessia paused before moving her head to look up to leah, her brow furrowing, "what do you mean?"

"like.." leah hesitated for moment, her eyes glancing to you as you were humming the tune to a nursery song so softly to yourself, completely absorbed in your colouring. "us. maybe.. expanding our family someday?"

alessia's eyes softened, "you mean.. a sibling for lovie?"

leah nodded, her thumb now brushing over the back of alessia's hand. "yeah, i mean, not tomorrow or anything. but someday" 

alessia smiled, her heart swelling at the thought, "i'd be a liar if i said i hadn't thought about it" she admitted with a small grin, "i would love that someday. lovie would be an amazing big sister."

before leah even had the chance to respond, you head shot up from your colouring, "A BABY!" you shout, your eyes going wide with excitement. both alessia and leah froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. 

"were you eavesdropping, lovie?" your mummy asked as she tried to stay serious but the grin on hr face said otherwise.

"nooo" you drew out the word in a way that said the complete opposite, "but you said baby! are we getting a baby?!"

leah chuckled as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees so that she was at your level, "that was grown up talk, angel. no babies yet"

you pouted dramatically as a loud sigh fell from your lips, "but i want a baby! i'll share my toys"

alessia laughed at your cuteness as she reached out to pick you as she tickled your sides, earning a loud squeal and giggles, oh will you, huh? thats very kind of you, lovie" 

leah grinned, sitting back on the couch. "we'll think about it, okay. maybe one day"

that answer from leah had seemed to satisfy you - for now. as you returned to your colouring, slipping down from your mummy's lap, as you picked up a crayon muttering "a baby would like my princess colouring" under your breath.

alessia snuggled closely back into leah, resting her head on her chest again. "at least when the time comes we know she's on board already" she smiled softly. leah reaching down to kiss the blonde's temple, her heart full. "someday" she echoed, her voice warm.

for now, the future could wait. they had their little family, a quiet afternoon, and all the time in the world to dream.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Wife Vs Wife (StephCatleyXFoordReader)

Summary: you Play for Manchester United while your wife plays for Arsenal. You have to play against one another and things don't end well.

Warnings: head injuries,blood

You sat in the changing rooms, headphones on. Listening to your pre game playlist. It was a mix of songs to hype yourself up and songs that helped you find your focus.

Ella sat down next to you. Watching you. There was something different about you today. She tapped you on the shoulder gently.

"y/n?" She asked. You took your headphones off and put them aside.

"yes, Tooney?" You asked her.

"are you okay? You seem a bit...Off today!" She told you. You sighed softly.

"what can i say, i don't like playing against Steph! I know it's Part of the Job but still..." You admitted. Ella gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"you don't mind playing against Caitlin but you stressed about your wife? That's cute!" She told you and you rolled your eyes at her playfully.

The changing room filled with the rest of the Team soon. You guys talked about tactics before it was time to wam up. Which you did with Ella as your partner. Glancing over at your wife and your sister for a moment before your focus was back on warming up.

The game started and it got intense right away. You and Katie got into really heated one vs one situations, pushing eachother and yelling at one another. Kinda funny. Given that you are actually great Friends and she is dating your sister Caitlin. Both of you got yellow cards. Tooney scored an amazing Goal which meant you took the lead. By half time it was 1-0.

You walked back into the Tunnels and back into the changing rooms.

"that was intense!" Maya said, looking at you. You nodded your head.

"it sure was!" You agreed.

"at least Katie distracted you from the fact that you are playing against Steph!" Ella answered. You turned to look at her and frowned.

"yeah i forgot about it...until you mentioned it!" You said and sighed softly.

" i have to play against my best friend as well, so i get it!" She replied. You chuckled a bit at that.

"Tooney you and Alessia are besties so that's different. I mean Steph is my wife! I married her! We have different dynamic then you have with Lessi!" You answered and giggled softly.

The second half started soon and things were intense once again. You and Katie gave eachother hell again. Kyra scored a goal for Arsenal in the 78th Minute. So it was 1-1 now. In the 87th Minute you got a Corner. So you standing by the second Goal Post, your wife was close, so was Katie. You tried to get the ball in with a Header and Steph tried to get it out of the danger Zone. Both of your head collided at that and you both fell to the floor. No one really cared in that moment that the ball got in cause Steph was groaning in pain, tears in her eyes holding her head and you were passed out, a small cut under your right eye was bleeding.

"Babe?" Steph asked. Trying to sit up but couldn't see cause she was dizzy. The medics running over to you. Both Teams forming a circle around you to shield you and Steph from the cameras and Fans.

"Steph, don't move. You might have a concussion." Leah told her. Worried about you and her teammate. Caitlin was kneeling down next to you, tears in her eyes. Fear was evident in the way she looked at you as well. But you didn't knew cause you were out like a light.

"she is unconcious!" Caitlin sobbed out which sent shivers down stephs back.

"what?! Babe please wake up!" She sobbed out. The medics keeping her down when she tried to move. Cause she had a concussion.

You woke up after around a 40 Seconds and turned your head to the side. Throwing up. Yes you had a concussion as well. And the cut under your eye needed to be glued back together. It for sure was gonna be a black eye by tomorrow.

Both you and Steph were taken off the pitch and brought to the hospital for some CT Scans. You both needed to be watched over at night which Caitlin offered to do and Katie was gonna help.

The Game ended with 2-1 win for you Guys.

Caitlin stayed at your place with Katie. You were thankful for that cause that way you were allowed to leave the hospital.

"you look like Shit! Both of you do actually!" Caitlin told you & Steph. You tried to laugh but quickly stopped yourself cause laughing hurt your head too much.

"good thing we look like shit together, right Babe?" You said softly.

"Catley what are you talking about? You Look hot!" She told you. "No matter what!" She added.

"so do you Catley!" You replied to your wife and gave her a small kiss.

"disgusting!" Katie said, making fake gagging noises. But she was only teasing of course.

"but for real, the two of you gave me a Heart Attack." Caitlin admitted.

"sorry." You mumbled out already drifting off to sleep.

"She is gonna hate that we have to wake her every 30 minutes. Same goes for you Steph. So don't get to comfy." Katie whispered out. Steph frowned a bit and then cuddled up to you.

"See you in 30 minutes then." Steph told your sister and Katie before falling asleep as well. You two holding one another. You both slept peacefully on the couch. Well as peacefully as possible in that Situation because Katie and Caitlin took turns to wake you up every 30 minutes. Which sucked cause your head and face were killing you but thankfully you were due for another round of painkillers around 1am. Which both you and Steph took happily.

One good thing came with the concussion. You and Steph had to take two weeks off of Football practice so you had some time for eachother. Which you spend cuddling, going on walks and believe it or not talking about adopting a child.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 19: The One Where I Perform Mis-Directed as a Three Act Comedy, Act III

“Firstly, happy birthday. It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Hint: Mis-Directed was released on February 4.

"’I’m making some changes,’ Hattie sipped from the glass. ‘And I’ve updated my skincare routine.’"

"‘Is that actor-code for hooking up with my costar,’ [Hattie’s] sister asked with great interest."

"And Hattie swallowed her drink, wincing as it burned down her throat. Looks like a liquified Barbie Dream House, tastes like one hundred proof vodka."

“’He’s the absolute bane of my existence,’ Hattie said.”

“’And I’ll stake my entire and beloved earring collection.’"

"Dee’s eyes went covetously to today’s selection. A miniature Victorian inkpot and quill.”

“’The entire family’s been reading the tabloids, have they?’"

"‘Reading, discussing, dissecting in a private WhatsApp chat.’”

“They’d touched each other before under the heat of cameras and watching eyes, but this was different. It was them and them alone. It was for them alone.”

“They watched where he entered her, where she enclosed him.”

“’I’ll never be a person who courts tabloid speculation about my private life,’ [Hattie] said at last. ‘But I understand the role that the press plays in this industry and the present attention is likely to be short-lived.’”

“’That might be true,’ he said in a slightly unreadable tone. ‘But it doesn’t necessarily make it easier to deal with in the moment.’ A point she couldn’t argue, especially since they’d remain hot headline property for quite some time yet, if their names were linked. The Victor and Iris affair hadn’t even hit screens yet. They were doing their first joint promo on Monday, at which point the speculation would fire up considerably.”

“’And when did you know it was more than a friendship you felt for Mr. Rafe?’"

"Despite everything, Hattie couldn’t repress the bubble of humor. ‘I don’t recall ever being friends with Mr. Rafe,’ she said, her gaze switching to her other side. Anthony was watching her with utter blandness in his expression and an emotion in his eyes sent all the butterflies in her stomach spiraling. ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s infamously insufferable.’”

“But at last, the show’s PR manager stepped in and brought the prying to an end.”

“’I love you.’ They were Iris’s [played by Hattie] words but the slight crack in her voice wasn’t scripted nor was what she saw in Anthony’s eyes. Their fingers tightened on each other as he leaned forward, and his lips touched hers and the ground dropped from under them.”

“’Do I,’ her voice cracked again, ‘have your heart?’"

"‘Do you,’ his body was incredibly tense, ‘love me?’"

"Her eyes burning with sudden tears. She couldn’t speak. She simply nodded as he said with a thick rasp and as little composure as she’d ever seen from him, ‘For a long time now.’”

“Anthony also looked to the nosy reporter before his gaze returned to hers. She read the question in his eyes."

"‘I don’t care,’ she said and realized it was true, with no longer even the slightest twinge of anxiety or reservation. This was the right person. The right time. And she was ready for all of it and it was worth everything and anything. ‘It doesn’t matter anymore. This means so much more.’"

"A last tear slipped free."

"‘This is everything. That’s just background noise.’"

"His arms tightened.”

P.S. “She just wouldn’t touch the fan fic or the fan art of Leicester Square with a ten-foot pole. The idea of people writing sex scenes while picturing her face or sketching not safe for work drawings in her image was unsettling at best.”

[moonlight-alexia]

glitter hearts | s.c.

steph catley x mccabe!reader | 2.7k | your first valentine's day with Steph

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the enchanted to meet you universe. this is set before world cup surprises, their first valentine's together as a couple <3 also i am very busy until sunday but wanted a little valentine's day fic for y'all. i might have time to write an alexia x lil mac one too but no promises <3 enjoy!

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

‘Katie,’ You whispered out, ‘...Katie…’ Your older sister, unsuspecting while she slept, you had slowly crept into her room in the middle of the night. You sighed, waking up Katie had always been difficult so you started gently shaking her shoulder, ‘Katie! Wake up!’

‘What-’ Katie blinks, half sitting up, hands up ready to fight whoever is intruding in her room and in the process half pushing you back when she pushed your hands away from her.

‘Katie,’ You whispered a bit more firmly than before, but still a whisper trying to settle your sister who was still on alert.

‘Oh it’s you,’ Katie grumbled and laid back down, closing her eyes and slightly shifting her body away from you, ‘What you want?’ Turning her head back to look your direction, eyebrow slightly raised, a slight glare in her eyes.

‘Do you think she’ll like this?’ Suddenly your voice went small and you fidgeted with the little card you were holding in your hand. You weren’t nervous when you decided to come wake your sister up but now you were wondering if maybe you should’ve waited until at least a few more hours when the sun would make an appearance.

Your sister definitely would’ve been more forgiving and supportive, anyway you were here and already committed to waking her up. So you held out the card in front of her while she just gave you a questioning look, ‘Steph. Do you think Steph will like it?’

‘You woke me up at…,’ Katie blindly reached out for her phone, grimacing as the brightness of her screen lit up her face, ‘...at 3 in the morning to ask me about a…a handmade card?’

‘Katie,’ You whined out when she pushed the card back towards you, not really bothering to look at it. You, ever persistent and just as stubborn as your older sister in getting what you want, held the card back out towards her, ‘There’s more but, I didn’t want to push my luck in actually getting you out of bed,’

‘You and coming into my room in the middle of the night,’ Katie muttered under her breath, it wasn’t a common occurrence but there were plenty of times you’d woken your older sister up at all different hours of the night. Katie didn’t really mind, she’d always be there for you, your protective slightly older sister. 

Slowly but surely making a move to get out from the coziness of her blankets into the chill of the night, ‘I’m gonna have to get a lock or just kick you out. Go annoy someone else,’ The way Katie’s lips turned upwards slightly in the corner was all you needed to know she wasn’t actually being serious. You’d be the same if the roles were reversed. 

Katie’s eyes went wide when she saw the state of her dining room, ‘Not only did you wake me in the middle of the night, you woke me to show me you destroyed my house,’ 

‘You’re so dramatic,’ Rolling your eyes at your sister's comments, making your way through the scrap pieces of paper, glitter, markers and tape that littered the room, to pick up what you’d been working on, ‘So…?’  

Katie’s eyes softened the moment you stood in front of her, the little handmade gift in your arms with a dumb proud look on your face, ‘Alright, give it here,’ Katie begrudgingly held out her hand so you could give her the gift so she could look at i properly. The more she looked at it the more she couldn’t be mad with you for waking her up, in all honesty Katie could hardly be mad at you for long anyway there was just something about you that stopped almost anyone from being mad or annoyed with you for a long time.

‘Mac, Steph is gonna love this,’ You let out a soft sigh, your eyes hopeful as Katie gave the gift back to you.

‘Yeah? Are you sure?’ There was always a flicker of doubt that crossed over you. Since Alexia you struggled a lot more than you had previously, doubting your actions and second guessing the things you did. You still hadn’t properly let Steph in, struggling to get too close in case things came crashing down suddenly. 

You hadn’t been with Steph for a long time, though you know it was definitely long enough that saying ‘I love you’ would be acceptable. Steph was always understanding when it came to you, even without the little warning talk your older sister gave her, you couldn’t be more thankful. It was your first valentine’s together and you hoped that this gift would show and tell Steph that you love her, even if you couldn’t find the words to say it just yet.

You’d come a long way since you moved to England, but these little moments Katie hated when flickers of self doubt ran through your mind knowing where they’d stemmed from, ‘I’m 100% positive. Steph looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars yourself,’ You looked down, letting out a small breath, half a laugh, trying to keep your cheeks from heating up too much, ‘You could probably give her a speck of glitter and she’d talk about how she was the luckiest person in the world,’ 

Katie had definitely overheard way too many conversations Steph talking about you to Beth. At first she deliberately eavesdropped just to make sure Steph was treating you right but since then she wished she would stop running into that situation. There’s only so many times Katie can stand to hear it, especially since she has to hear it from you all the time. 

‘Yeah…yeah you’re right,’ Your smile was bashful, always was when you thought of Steph. There was a moment where you didn’t think you would ever feel this way about someone again. After a long few years, you found and let yourself have that happiness again.

‘I always am,’ Katie smirked while stifling a yawn, a reminder at how early it was and that the two of you should definitely be asleep, ‘Now my house better not look like a glitter bomb exploded when I get up later,’ You rolled your eyes as Katie made her way back up the stairs to her room but not before shouting back down at you, ‘And maybe try to get some sleep,’

‘Yes ma,’ You shouted back up at her, laughing when you heard Katie’s door shut a bit more loud than normal.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‘Stephy, hi,’ You wrapped your arms around Steph’s waist, giving her a quick little hug, greeting her since you’d just arrived at training, ‘Happy Valentine’s day,’ You spoke softly, sitting next to her so your shoulders were touching and handing her a singular rose you’d picked up on your way to training that morning.

‘Aw, happy Valentine's day,’ Steph took the rose from you, giving you a kiss on your cheek, ‘You look like you haven’t slept,’ Steph commented, her hand brushing some stray hairs back from your face, a little bit of worry etched on her face.

‘She hasn’t and neither have I,’ Katie grumbled from the other side of the room. Steph looked between the two of you, silently questioning.

‘Don’t worry about it. You know how Katie is-’

‘Dramatic,’ Steph finished off what you were saying, sharing a laugh between the two of you before you were being hit with a shoe that came at you from across the room.

‘Hey!’ Katie just shot you a look that said you had it coming before she left the pair of you, ‘Anyway, we still on for tonight?’ 

‘Of course, I wouldn't miss getting to spend a night with you,’ Steph leaned her head on your shoulder, looking down at the rose that she was still holding on to. She was trying to stay calm but still every time she was close to you, her stomach erupted in that nice fuzzy, full of butterflies kind of feeling. Steph was grateful you gave her a chance, she didn’t know everything that happened in Barcelona, but she saw a lot of the aftermath when you moved. 

After training Steph drove the two of you back to where you were staying with Katie, your hand placed on top of hers, lacing your fingers together. Katie wasn’t going to be home, you made sure of it, wanting to make your first Valentine’s day night together as special as you could. You’d already set up everything before you left this morning, triple checking everything so you didn’t forget a single thing.

‘I’m sorry we aren’t going out or doing anything particularly special,’ The nerves started taking over, you were worried that this wouldn’t be special enough, or just enough in general for Steph. You were putting a lot of pressure on yourself for tonight to be perfect.

‘Shh, love, a night in with you is perfect and just what I- we both need. I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with you,’ Steph gently turned you so you were facing her, a hand lifting your head so you were looking at her. You could see in her eyes that she meant every word. Steph leant her forehead against yours, ‘Hi,’

You let out a giggle, brushing your nose softly against hers, ‘Hi,’ Your lips finding hers, a quick but firm kiss. Pulling away, or at least Steph tried to, but not before you pulled her back in for another little kiss, holding onto her so she wouldn’t go further than just in the doorway, ‘You gotta close your eyes,’ 

You also covered Steph’s eyes with your hands just to make sure she wouldn’t try to sneak a peek at your surprise for her. Trying to lead Steph throughout the house, whisper yelling at coopurr when he wouldn’t move out of the way, you didn’t want Steph to trip over anything and he just wasn’t cooperating with you. 

You smiled at Steph’s laughs, you’d complained about the cat quite a few times to her, how he was always out to get you but anytime Steph was around he was always an angel, but to you was a different story, ‘Leave poor Coopurr alone, he just wants to see his favourite person,’ Steph teased

‘I’ll tell Katie you said that,’ Successfully clearing the path to where you wanted to lead Steph to.

‘You wouldn’t,’ Steph had already taken her little sister from her, she wouldn’t risk Katie hearing she was taking her son too, they still had to play together.

‘Try me babe,’ You smirked when Steph gasped a little in surprise when she felt your lips on hers. Your hands slowly uncovered her eyes, resting them on her waist and pulling Steph against you. You pulled away, slightly out of breath but still holding Steph in your arms. Her eyes widened when she took a quick glance over your shoulder.

‘All that…for me?’ Steph was in shock looking at everything you had set up. A teddy bear holding a bouquet of flowers, some heart shaped chocolates and chocolate covered strawberries, heart shaped balloons and in the middle of it all were three neatly wrapped presents. Presents you’d rewrapped a million times each, wanting to make sure they were wrapped perfectly.

It really looked like a scene from those cheesy rom coms the two of you had indulged in many times together. You’d gone all out but Steph meant the world to you and you needed her to know, ‘It’s our first Valentine’s together, I wanted to make it special for you,’ You had your arm around Steph’s waist, keeping her pulled into your side while she took it all in.

‘You make every day special,’ Steph leaned her head on your shoulder, turning her head to look at you. You looked down, smiling softly at her, ‘Thank you my love,’ 

‘Anything for you Stephy,’ You whispered, the music in the background seemed dull, the two of you lost in each other, ‘So which one did you want to open first?’ You nodded towards the presents, nervous but eager to see what Steph thought of them, in particular the one you had made for her.

Steph let out a small laugh, her hand gently squeezing yours and shuffling close to you, as if she could get any closer, ‘I’ve already got my favourite present right here,’ Turning her head she brushed her lips against your neck, a shiver shot down your spine. You bit your lip, closing your eyes briefly to try to compose yourself. Though it was always hard around Steph.

‘You’re my favourite too,’ You smiled sheepishly, slight redness appearing over your cheeks. Steph kissed your neck more firmly, her lips lingering. You could feel her smile against your skin and it was enough to send your heart racing, ‘Alright, no more teasing,’ You whined softly, feeling her press more kisses against your neck.

Steph reluctantly pulled away and let you lead her to sit on the couch. Your hands shook slightly as you picked up the present you’d spent hours making, hoping that holding onto it would make the shaking less noticeable. You knew Steph noticed when her eyes softened, though to be fair to Steph her eyes always softened when she looked at you but you could tell there was something different behind her eyes.

‘Hey,’ Steph spoke softly, her hand resting against your thigh once you’d sat next to her, ‘It’s just me,’ She smiled at you reassuringly. You relaxed as much as you could almost instantly, the effect Steph had on you, you both loved and felt terrified over it. 

‘I just really hope you’ll like it,’ You looked down, placing the gift on Steph’s lap, ‘And if you don’t- I- There’s a few more, maybe you’ll like one of those,’ Nervously you rambled, a habit that would overcome you every time you got nervous or anxious. 

‘Mac baby, it’s from you,’ Steph held the present, her smile never wavering, ‘I’m going to love it,’ You nodded your head, taking a deep breath. You still hated how unsure of yourself you could get, maybe one day you’ll get back to being your usually confident self more often than not. 

While Steph was opening the present, your eyes were glued to your hands, not wanting to see any potential rejection at the present you made. Though what you really missed was Steph’s mouth opening in surprise, the few little tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes and the love she looked at every page with. 

You spent hours putting together a little scrapbook. A scrapbook that held all the memories and love you had for each other. From the trips and memories you made while you were ‘just friends’ to the last few months that you’d officially been together for. You included Steph’s favourite colours amongst the markers, paper and glitter that you used. Lots of hearts over each page. So many photos of the two of you from over the last year.

‘Wow- I-’ Steph couldn’t find the words to tell you how much it meant to her. Your eyes wide when you finally looked her way, expecting to see a form of hatred or disgust, instead you were met with her lips on yours. 

Blindly Steph put the scrapbook to the side, pushing you down against the couch, your lips never leaving each other. Your hands found their way to her hips, fingers grazing underneath the hem of her shirt, dancing along Steph’s bare skin. Steph put all of her emotion and feelings for you into the kiss, deepening it, pressing herself against you more.

Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen when you finally broke away from each other, besides for the little pecks you’d both give, never getting enough, ‘So you liked it…’ You let out a breathy laugh, voice trailing off still getting your breath back.

‘More than liked it babe,’ Steph’s hand rested against your cheek, her thumb rubbing gently, ‘You’re too sweet and thoughtful. I really like you…’ 

‘I really like you too,’ There was a look of understanding shared in that moment. The words you both wanted to say were on the tips of your lips, even though neither of you actually said it, you could see it in each other's eyes and that was enough for now.