#if it means luke took a while to return?

[forgaeven1]

her head remains bowed.

if her brother had witnessed this, he would have shook himself with fury; he would have demanded, quite justly, of respect to be shown with which house martell deserves  — they are the folks who do not bend, after all. they are the unbowed, the unbroken. but he is not here. he has not been with her since neith had been sent to king's landing; the last memory neith had had of qoren martell was his fierce brown eyes, breaking apart as he holds her for the last time. he had spoken in their mixed language of rhoynar and common tongue, telling her to be careful. to call for him, for anything she may need.

she has, and yet dorne remains stubborn from siding with any faction as the rest of the seven kingdoms break, and burn, under targaryen's hefty thumbs. neith likes to believe she does not resent them, that she is not capable of unreasonable resentment, the sort she had seen her ancestors passed from one generation to the next. when she had arrived in king's landing, bright-eyed and young, years ago, she had naively thought that their houses could be joined; these children of the dragons and her, a daughter of the sand, could be friends. it would have been the beginning of a new teaching, of a new age.

the slaughter of prince jaehaerys changed that.

she does not resent. she does not want to, but neith's eyes remain on the floor. her voice is mechanical, cold. she used to dance through these halls once; her queen helaena, then princess, had clapped along, joyous, despite the foreign beat and rhythm neith had represented. they were girls together, however briefly. those are gone now, as well, with her queen on spikes. ❛ — your side have won. will you spare the princess jaehaera ? ❜

@lcerys — starter call

[delulujuls]

the other one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the 2.7k of i don't know what, really. its for sure intense, so fasten up your saddle and enjoy the ride. i enjoyed making aegon such a cutiepie in my two last shots, but this man is designed to be a menace to humanity so yeah, i believe im gonna lose it in the next shots. prepare for chaos.

summary: heart want what it wants, and y/n's heart belong to young prince from dragonstone, not to the future cruel king of westeros.

warnings: targaryen brothers being mean to velaryon boys AGAIN, aegon is such a meanie oh god, fighting, arguing, threatening with a sword, last scene is smelling a bit like a rap3, so feel free to skip it. your comfort is the most important

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. jealous, possesive and dark!aegon targaryen)

Two young princes stood at the gates of the castle, awaiting guests. For several minutes they kept glancing at the sky, looking out for dragons. However, only the sound of wind and waves crashing against the rocks could be heard, with no indication that any winged beasts would soon appear before their eyes.

“Do you think they’ll come at all?” Lucerys asked his older brother, glancing at him. The cold wind chilled him to the bone, and the youngest of the Velaryons longed to return inside and sit by the fireplace.

Jacaerys did not get a chance to answer because shortly after, a muffled roar reached their ears, and something flickered in the low-hanging storm clouds. The heavy sky was pierced by the massive body of Vhagar, who was the first to emerge from the clouds and flew towards the beach. Close behind were Vermithor and Sunfyre, who looked dainty in comparison to those two giant dragons. Aemond, Y/N, and Aegon had arrived at Dragonstone.

Soon after, all four appeared at the castle gates. Helaena was flying with her older sister on Vermithor, choosing not to sail by ship with their mother, father, and grandfather. The youngest of the siblings still couldn't bring herself to travel alone on the back of her Dreamfyre, but felt confident with Y/N, now walking hand-in-hand with her sister towards the castle.

Lucerys took a step back, seeing Aemond and Aegon confidently striding towards them. The youngest Velaryon swallowed hard.

“I hope they don’t sit close to us,” he whispered, prompting his brother to discreetly nudge his arm.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of the siblings. “Welcome, it’s good to see you here,” he said.

Aemond, leading the way, wore his characteristic grimace, nothing like the smile the young prince offered him. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning politeness. In silence, he merely glanced at them, bypassing them and pushing the heavy gate doors.

“My favorite, strong nephews,” Aegon said sarcastically, with a mocking smile. Passing by, he nudged Lucerys in the shoulder, who was about to turn and say something when his aunt’s voice reached his ears. Y/N smiled joyfully at the sight of Rhaenyra’s sons.

“Luke, Jace,” she extended her arms, hugging them both at once. Hearing the girl's joyful voice, Aegon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. He thought his sisters were too lenient with those bastards.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jacaerys smiled, embracing her and catching the smell of her lavender-scented hair. While he sincerely disliked Aemond and Aegon, he was very fond of their sisters. Helaena was shy and harmless, often speaking little and nodding more. Y/N, on the other hand, often reminded him of his mother, unafraid to speak up or defend her position. She was also wise and very pretty, and he was genuinely pleased to spend a few days in her presence.

“Are you coming, or are we going to freeze out here like a bunch of idiots?” Aegon asked sharply, seeing Y/N hold onto older Velaryon a bit too long. The young princess gave him an amused look, tousled Lucerys’ hair, and linked arms with Helaena. The four of them briskly walked towards the castle.

Rhaenyra was celebrating her thirty-second name day, so the entire family from King’s Landing had come to Dragonstone. Viserys wanted his daughter to celebrate her birthday in the capital, but she wished to spend the day her way. The ailing king, still battling illness, had no intention of arguing with his daughter, lacking the strength and health to do so. Even to the Targaryen seat, he chose to sail by ship rather than ride on the back of one of the dragons. After Balerion’s death, he had given up flying and now didn’t think about it at all.

During the evening feast, the dining hall filled with people. Despite it being Rhaenyra’s day, Viserys sat at the head of the table. To his left was his eldest daughter, beside her Daemon, Joffrey, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaena, and Baela. On the king’s right sat his wife, next to her the Hand of the King, then Aemond, Aegon, Y/N, Helaena, and Rhaenys Targaryen, next to whom, at the other end of the table, sat Corlys Velaryon.

The feast went on in a calm and surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Previous feasts often ended in arguments before they even really began. The main instigators of all disputes, Aemond and Aegon, sat quietly, not speaking much. Many might have thought someone stuffed hay into the dragons’ bellies to prevent them from breathing fire.

Aegon, however, increasingly clenched his hand around the wine goblet from time to time, hearing Y/N happily talking with Jacaerys across the table. His blood boiled hearing her so delighted with the conversation with him. He felt like slapping that fucking son of a bitch.

Helaena was also having a good time, shedding her shyness piece by piece with each sip of wine. She chatted lively with Rhaena and Baela, who were already slightly tipsy themselves. Rhaenys sent an amused look to her husband, who tightened his grip on the wine jug and pulled it closer. The Sea Snake had to be vigilant to prevent his granddaughters and the young Targaryen from getting too drunk. Helaena, however, had more to celebrate than just her half-sister’s birthday.

Since Viserys and Alicent’s daughters reached reproductive age, the Hand of the King and the Queen Mother began looking for potential suitors for them. While there was no trouble finding suitors for Y/N, who, besides her wealth and possessions, had a strong character and good disposition, finding a husband for Helaena was problematic.

From birth, the princess showed signs of abnormal development. Though she grew as a girl should, her mind seemed not to keep up, still trapping her in a world of childish dreams. Helaena was quiet, read a lot, and spent all her time in the garden, not burdened with unnecessary duties.

The Hand decided that when the time came, that is, when Aegon was to take the throne from the ailing king, he would marry Helaena, and Y/N would marry Forrest Frey. The plans were made at a Small Council meeting, which neither Helaena nor Y/N attended. Probably neither would have known about the plans to marry them off if Y/N hadn’t accidentally overheard their conversation when one of the doors unguarded by sentries was ajar.

“I don’t agree!” she said firmly, pushing the heavy doors and entering.

“Y/N, you can’t be here-,” Alicent stood up, wanting to calm her daughter, but she sharply pointed her finger upwards. “And you can’t do this to Helaena! I don’t agree!”

Aegon, who was one of the people at the table, also didn’t support the Council’s idea. However, he was too drunk to make any objections. Only his sister’s intrusion somewhat sobered him up. If he had to choose, he could marry Y/N since she wanted to fight so hard for Helaena’s better fate. Frankly, he didn’t care either way.

The guards first wanted to remove the young princess, but she began presenting her arguments. The Council didn’t think an eighteen-year-old’s arguments could make any sense, but many underestimated Y/N’s negotiation skills. In the castle, by Aegon’s side, she could be more useful than in the Riverlands beside Forrest Frey.

The Council decided that Helaena would marry Frey when the time came, and Y/N would marry Aegon. The young princess didn’t want Helaena to spend her life in the castle, locked in chambers and bearing children. She wanted her to break free from King’s Landing and experience a life different from the one she had lived so far. Y/N knew that unlike her sister, she could handle an incestuous marriage and an unwanted husband, who Aegon was to become in the future. Helaena might have been driven to suicide.

But for now, these were just tomorrow's problems, or who knows, maybe even further. Helaena, in a sudden burst of joy, stood up and climbed onto a chair, much to Alicent’s horror.

“To my beloved sister Y/N,” she said, swaying. Rhaenys held the chair to prevent her from falling. “And to my sister Rhaenyra, who celebrates her birthday today. I love you!”

Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and Aegon looked at her indulgently, raising their goblets. All the other guests eagerly toasted, applauding the young princess’s words. Rhaenyra stood up from the table and hugged her sister; Y/N also rose to do the same.

“Helaena needs rest,” Alicent whispered, gripping her daughter’s shoulder before she stood up. “Escort her to bed.”

Y/N shook off her hand and got up, embracing her sisters. However, when she felt Helaena’s heavy body in her arms, she held her close around the waist.

As soon as the sisters left the dining hall, Jacaerys, sent by his mother, joined them. Young prince apologized to Y/N and with a single, confident motion, picked up Helaena, who laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, admitting that she would let such a handsome man whisk her away without hesitation.

Jacaerys only let go of Helaena when he placed her on the bed in her bedroom.

"Will you stay with her until morning?" he asked as Y/N began removing the rings from her sister's fingers.

"Helaena usually sleeps like a mouse under a haystack, but after wine, she sleeps like a rock," Y/N replied, smiling slightly at the sight of her sister's flushed face. "Wait outside, I'll change her for bed and join you."

The young prince nodded obediently and left the chamber. He stood outside the door, straight as a string, feeling like a guard. Shortly after, the princess joined him, quietly closing the door behind her.

"She'll sleep like a baby until morning," she assured, laughing softly.

"It's nice to see her with a smile on her face," Jacerys admitted as they slowly began walking down the corridor. He quietly offered his arm to Y/N, which she gladly accepted.

"I've noticed she smiles much more when she's here. I feel like the capital is suffocating her."

Jacaerys lowered his gaze. He had recently learned about the marriage plans for the young sisters.

"I heard she'll leave King's Landing sooner or later," he said, glancing at her. He didn't know how delicate ground he was entering.

The young princess sighed and nodded. She spent the whole way telling Jacaerys about everything that had happened in the past weeks. In the company of the boy, Y/N didn't feel like his aunt, as their relationship would suggest, but like a friend. After all, they were only a year apart in age. They had always had a good relationship and, unlike her hostile brothers, Y/N really liked Jacaerys. She cherished every opportunity she could spend with him. This was one of those moments.

The pair didn't return to the feast; instead, they went to one of the terraces. They sat on one of the benches, and Y/N involuntarily rested her head on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her close.

"You deserve more, Y/N," he said quietly. "Both you and Helaena deserve more."

"I know I'll manage, I'm strong," she said, watching the remnants of the day dance on the horizon. "But I'm so scared for Helaena. She deserves the whole world, not what's waiting for her in King's Landing."

The young princess wasn't sad; at this moment, she could even say she felt a lightness in her heart. Jacaerys' body warmed her pleasantly, and the cool, salty air chased away the heat caused by the wine from her cheeks.

"You're the bravest dragon I've ever known," he said with a smile, looking at her face. The girl smiled at his words. "I don't know stronger people than Targaryen women."

"Do you really think so?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. She didn't know if his cheeks were flushed from the wine or the cold wind. Nevertheless, his dark eyes looked at her so gently that the young princess never wanted to look into any other eyes again.

Jacaerys smiled and nodded. He cautiously lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He touched her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

"I would take better care of you than they would, you know?" he said after a moment, his whisper lost in the whistle of the wind. Y/N heard his words clearly, just as she clearly heard the snort of disdain that came from somewhere to the side.

"I don't know which of you is more pathetic," Aegon said, looking at them with drunken eyes. He could barely stand, but his fists were clenched. Aemond remained silent, standing in the entrance and blocking it with his body. Unlike his brother, he didn't look drunk.

"What is your problem?" Y/N asked angrily, standing up. Unintentionally, she shielded Jacaerys with her body, who also rose from the bench.

"That you act like a complete whore," he spat through his teeth, causing Jacaerys to step around the girl to stand in her defense. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back when Aemond drew a dagger and stepped forward, defending his brother.

"Watch your words," Jacaerys said angrily. He didn't care that he was addressing the future king. In his eyes, Aegon wasn't worth anything, and he certainly didn't deserve to be Y/N's husband.

"Or what, bastard?" Aemond asked calmly, looking at him intently.

"We haven't done anything wrong," the young princess said sharply, though her voice trembled. She knew that her brothers were unlikely to hurt her, but she wasn't capable of protecting Jacaerys from both of them. She had only her hands, feet, and teeth at her disposal. "Get out of the way."

"Oh, really?" Aegon smiled. His drunken eyes were shiny from alcohol and dark-circled, his skin ashen. Even despite the fire of hatred burning in him, he didn't have a bit of a blush on his face. "I see a fucking dog clinging to my future wife."

"You wish she were your wife," Jacaerys said without thinking much about the words that left his mouth. Aegon lunged at him with his fists, to which the young Velaryon responded in kind. Aemond sheathed his dagger and grabbed Jacaerys by the shoulders, holding him and exposing him to Aegon's blows. In the commotion, the young princess managed to draw her brother's dagger and without hesitation, grabbed Aegon by the hair, pulling him back. With tears on her cheeks, she pressed the sword to his neck.

The four of them froze in place.

Aemond still held Jacaerys tightly, blood was trickling from his lip. Aegon's heart was pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline and, at that moment, also from excitement. His sister's small hand was firmly gripping his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Blood flowed from his broken nose, running down to his grinning lips.

"She's a dragon, see?" Aegon said, addressing Jacaerys. "You couldn't handle her, fool."

Y/N pushed her brother to the ground, releasing the dagger from her hands as well. She grabbed Jacaerys' hand and pulled him from Aemond's grasp, who would have lied if he said his sister's behavior didn't leave him speechless. In shock, he wasn't even able to oppose her.

"I'm so sorry," she began tearfully, pulling him away as far as possible from that place. "I should have killed them when I had the sword in my hand."

Jacaerys pulled her by the hand, causing her to turn around suddenly and fall into his arms. Without a word, he kissed her, feeling her salty tears mix with the blood from his split lip. Y/N returned the kiss but looked at him in shock. Jacaerys smiled warmly at her.

"Don't apologize to me," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "You are a dragon, so be a dragon."

The pair didn't return to the feast. Instead, Y/N went with the young prince to his chambers. Jacaerys initially protested when she said she would help dress his wounds. Eventually, he agreed to her proposal, lying on the bed in just his trousers. The girl carefully cleaned his cuts, placing a cold compress on his abdomen. She sat beside him, looking at him tenderly.

"I'm so sorry, Jace," she whispered, squeezing his hand. The boy, however, seemed to be in a good mood.

"If every fight with them means I get to spend time with you, I'm ready to fight them every day."

The young princess smiled and shook her head at his words. She felt her heart swell when she was with him.

Their eager lips exchanged a few more kisses before Y/N quietly left his chamber, returning to her own. Helaena was still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. She lay on her side on her half of the bed, not even stirring when her sister began preparing for sleep. Dressed in a nightgown, she let her hair down and carefully combed it. She put the brush away and blew out the nearby candles, lying down on the bed.

As soon as she covered herself with the quilt, she felt someone sit on her, pressing her into the mattress, and a cold hand covered her mouth. The girl wanted to scream but felt a blade against her neck. The attacker leaned over her, his hair tickling her face. The young princess smelled alcohol.

"Every time you raise your hand against me," Aegon whispered, tightening his grip on the dagger's hilt, "I'll have one of your fingers cut off, understood?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. For the first time in her life, Aegon truly frightened her. She felt her heart leap into her throat.

"And that fucking Velaryon dog," he moved his hand from her mouth to her hair, gripping it tightly. "I never want to see him near you again."

"Aegon-" she whispered with difficulty, clutching his wrist to push him away. She felt herself running out of breath, and the cold blade pressed deeper into her skin.

"Is that clear?" he growled, pressing her harder into the pillows.

"Yes," she said tearfully.

A moment later, she felt her brother's alcohol-tainted lips forcefully and brutally kissing hers. Aegon stood up shortly after and left the sisters' chamber, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, the young princess found her sister's body and hugged her from behind, trying to suppress her tears. She was terrified.

How much she wished she could hide in Jacaerys's arms at that moment.

[entitled-fangirl]

I can't promise that.

Jace Velaryon x wife!reader

Summary: Jace returns from the Wall, mourning the death of his brother. The reader comforts him in the dead of night.

Warnings: talks of death, mourning, making out, talks of sex, just sad Jace angst

A/n: If I had a nickel for every time I made a Jace fic, and it was an angst, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice. I need happy Jace prompts 😭

Masterlist

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Jace's back was to her, but even from there, it was clear something was wrong.

She stepped into the dark beside him and set the candle on the sturdy railing. "My love?"

He finally turned to face her. His eyes were puffy, cheeks red, and hot tears were falling down his face.

She cooed, "Oh, Jace." She rushed to him and took his face in her hands. 

His hands gripped her waist, afraid she'd disappear if he let go. She was almost worried there would be bruises. 

Her stomach dropped at the sound of his light sobs. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she wiped his tears. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll kill him," he muttered through the sniffles.

"Jace, I know you're upset-"

"-Do you expect me to sit here and allow him to get away with this?" He pulled away from her as pure anger came through his voice. "He's killed my brother. He's killed the son of the Queen, the heir to Driftmark!" He began to pace back and forth, the tears still falling. "I vow to kill Aemond Targaryen."

"Don't vow things while you are upset."

"I'm not upset! I'm enraged, wife!" He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to sigh out his frustration. "And you? You seem just fine!"

She let out a breath and gripped the railing. She forced her voice to stay calm. "Jace. You must understand that I've had more time to process this. I am just as horrified as you, I promise."

Jace's breath became shaky as he tried to control his anger. His jaw clenched harshly. He refused to speak, knowing that doing so would only worsen things. 

"I understand your grief, Jace, but you cannot let it cloud your judgment. To want revenge is to start the war your mother is trying to avoid."

"They began it," he sobbed. "If we do nothing then my brother died in vain! Does that mean nothing to you?"

Her eyes softened. "My love…"

"I cannot bear this."

She reached out and caressed his cheek again. "This will pass. You must not let the loss of Luke toil over the brothers you still have left."

He leaned into her palm as he considered her words.

Finally, he collected himself, pulling away and wiping at his face harshly. "Forgive me. For losing my temper with you."

Her brows furrowed at the force he wiped his face with. "It's quite reasonable to be upset. I just don't want you to do something you will regret." 

When he continued to sniffle and wipe at his face, she pulled his hands away. "Perhaps we should take this inside?" She offered.

He nodded and took her hand, grabbing the candle with the other and pulling her inside. Seated on the foot of the bed, he watched her wet a cloth from the tub where she had bathed only hours before.

She stood between his legs and pulled his face up, beginning to gently wipe the cloth over his puffy cheeks, cleaning them of his tears.

He only stared at her, his eyes roaming over her beautiful face studying him. "Promise me something?"

She hummed lightly in question.

"You'll not fight this war."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "I could not bear to be on that bannister again in the night crying over you. I…" he voice faltered. "I cannot take another loss. Not you."

"I intend to do what the queen needs, Jace," she answered softly.

"What about what your future king needs?" He countered desperately as he gripped her wrist.

Her eyes met his. She was beginning to break down. "You know I can't…"

"Please."

She turned her head away from him, a shaky breath leaving her lips.

"I've always said I'd do anything for you. And you know I will," Jace pushed. His eyes watered again with fresh tears and his voice shook, "Can you not do so for me?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, finding no words that would suffice. She began to gently wipe at his face again, dragging it down his neck.

"Please, speak," he begged.

She fought the lump in her throat. "You know what I'll say."

He sniffled and nodded, "Then make me a different promise?"

"If I can."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "That if you must fight in this war, it will be by my side."

She smiled, and a small laugh of relief came from her. "That's the most foolish thing you've asked of me, husband. You know that answer as well."

The tension left his shoulders and he flashed that grin that she loves so much. "I suppose it was. Still," he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him, "I'd like to hear you say it aloud."

She looked down at him, abandoning the cloth and cradling his head in her hands as she spoke, "Jacaerys Velayron, whether I become your queen or I die at the hands of a usurper, I am yours, body and soul, and I will fight for you and with you until my fate is decided."

His thumb rubbed a soothing pattern on her hip bone. "I am yours until my body is buried in the ground with my ancestors. And even beyond then." He smirked, "And there will forever be one woman destined to be mine, I know that quite well. So I either have you as my queen, or we die together as one."

She leaned down and kissed him deeply.

He immediately groaned into her mouth and stood up, his hands pulling and tugging at her waist and lower back as if he could pull her closer.

As if everything else they could've said is shown through their actions.

His hands finally reached up her back to pull at the laces of her dress. His fingers tugged gently.

"J…Jace," she panted as their lips barely parted. "Jace…"

His lips moved down her jaw in fervent kisses, nipping and sucking lightly.

"St…" She gasped when he reached a particularly sensitive spot on her collarbone. Her hands moved to his hair and pulled him away, "Jace, stop."

The word "stop" pulled him from his trance, and he immediately moved away from her. His eyes were wide in worry, "What's wrong?"

"Not tonight," she reasoned. "We shouldn't."

"Why?" He asked softly.

"We're both upset. We may make a mistake if we're not careful."

He hummed, "Loving you is no mistake."

"Jace…"

"I understand," he nodded, keeping disappointment from coming over his face. "Perhaps when our judgment returns?"

She nodded and gazed down at his lips. "I'd like that."

He grinned. "Alright." He stepped closer to her again. "Let us get to bed again."

She intwined her fingers with his and pulled him around the bed, the two settling in as they always do. 

"I miss you greatly, you know," she whispered against his neck as they held each other close. "Dragonstone was rather lonesome without a certain curly-haired prince to keep it company."

"The Wall was even colder than I thought it would be. And I saw snow. Felt it beneath my feet as it chilled me to the bone. And all the while, I thought of you."

 She nuzzled her nose to his jaw, making shivers run down his spine.

She sighed, "We'll make it, won't we? Through this war?"

"I shall pray so to any god that will listen."

She laughed, "I don't believe that's how it works." Her lips brushed up to his jaw.

A bright teasing smile came over him, "I have Targaryen blood, my love. Perhaps we are the gods."

"You surely are mine."

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[fawnindawn]

even at our worst, we know we'll still be okay (luke castellan x apollo fem! reader)

summary: Where Percy's insistent pestering forces Luke to rethink on his possibly not platonic feelings for you, his best friend, and Percy's questions are answered for him with Luke's reaction to you being heavily injured on your return from your quest.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

a/n: i'm actually in love with this, maybe it's just the friends-to-lovers in me (where a love confession happens because one of them was near death's door-) but man.. also, i love including percy so much he's such a kid.

masterlist for this series next

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"Face it, man. You're whipped."

Percy watched Luke choke on his water, coughing as he tried to swallow past the sudden accusation. Wiping at the excess that dripped past his chin, Luke raised a brow at Percy.

"Whipped? For who?" Luke questioned, eyes averting and staring straight ahead, beyond the training grounds towards the meadows in the distance, seemingly searching for something or just doing a poor job at avoiding Percy’s unimpressed stare.

“I’m not blind, as much as Annabeth claims, to this...love stuff.” Percy huffed, half in exasperation and half in exhaustion as he leaned forward using his sword to balance himself. “You’ve been depressed ever since she left for her quest.”

Luke doesn’t need to hear your name to know who Percy was referring to. It’s been weeks since you were chosen by your father, Apollo, to descend on some mighty quest to fetch back his lyre that had been stolen. It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous quest, but Luke had felt his gut sinking when he first heard the news from you.

“Why does he need to send you out there, where you could possibly be tracked down by monsters to get back a musical instrument of all things?” Luke snapped, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his curls, pacing back and forth in the Hermes Cabin, while you laid on his mattress looking undeniably calmer than he was.

“Luke, my dad won’t purposely send me on some death trap. I'll be fine.” You tried to reassure him, waiting for him to calm down in his pacing before you extended your hands in his direction right as he turned to make another round through the cabin for the seventh time. “Hey, come here.” You gestured. “Sit with me.”

He hesitated, stopping in his tracks as he finally took the time to look at you, noting your concerned expression at him. As if you weren’t about to descend on some ridiculous quest to god knows where all because your father couldn’t pluck up the effort to collect the instrument himself.

The longer your hands stayed outstretched for him, the more his anger and frustration dissolved into the overwhelming need to be near you. One second, he’s standing and the next, he’s laying in bed with you, your arms wrapped around him to stabilise him even though he should be the stronger one. The one to look out for you.

Laying his head on your shoulder as he wrapped one of his fingers around your hair, curling it in his palms, he spoke again in a soft whisper only for you to hear. “I’m worried.”

“I know.” You responded, your hands tracing at the curve of his shoulder, stopping at his collarbone, before your finger moved to tilt his face by the chin to look at you. “You trust me, right?” You ask, knowing his answer but wanting to hear the reassurance all the same.

“Course' I do.” He replied immediately, his eyes intense as he made eye contact with you. That was without question. You could ask him to walk into blazing flames, and he'd trust you would ask for good reason.

“Then you can trust that I’ll make it back alive.”

“Alive can mean lots of things.” He muttered, his eyes growing distant, the ghost of blood and a stinging burn running down the half of his face appearing uninvited in his mind.

“I’ll make it back alive and unharmed.” You reiterated, a knowing look in your eyes as you unconsciously traced at his scar, leaving warmth where it resides, making him shiver instinctively. “It’s a promise, Luke.”

He stayed silent, before slowly moving his hand to cup yours that rested over his scar. “I’m counting on it, sunshine.”

That promise rested over Luke’s conscience, gnawing at the back of his heels, chasing him daily from the early hours as he forced himself not to break over the stress and anxiety before putting on his golden boy facade, to pretend that he wasn't constantly distracted and nauseous over the thought of something happening to you without him being there to protect you.

He would've snuck out of camp if he could, just to find you, but Chiron had been tight-lipped on your destination, his all-knowing gaze piercing right through Luke when he had tried to nonchalantly ask about your whereabouts.

"I wish I could help you, Luke." Chiron had told Luke a few days after you had gone. "However, Apollo's request was clear. Only she shall take on this quest. No one else." The pin-point gaze Chiron had locked onto Luke made it clear he was talking about him.

"I am not whipped." Luke denied. "She's my friend. Like how you're my friend."

"I don't think your friendship with her is normal though." Percy fired back quickly, sipping on his own water as if he didn't casually demolish the older boy. "I swear I caught you bringing her back after curfew to your cabin, a few times in fact."

Luke felt his cheeks flush at Percy's sudden interrogation, smashing facts after facts on an early Tuesday morning. "I've been having.. nightmares lately. She's the only one who keeps them away." He didn't know why he felt like he had to explain himself to the kid, but the longer his friendship with you went under fire, the faster he wanted to get out of this conversation.

"You don't think that's something you should think deeper about?" Percy muttered with a shrug.

Luke is left speechless, his mind short-cutting at the sudden implication of.. him feeling something more for you? His most recent memories flashed through his mind. You tucked under his blanket as you laid beside him for the last night before your quest, a sleepy smile etched on your lips before you whispered him goodnight and he pulled you into his chest so he could feel your heart beating against his to push away any tricks currently playing on his mind, bringing light to how you're the only person he believes could calm him down and bring him peace-

"She's my best friend." Luke replied, more to himself than to Percy. "I'm just worried for her. A quest like that shouldn't take so long, and I keep imagining-"

He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to say his fears out in the open in fear that his words would jinx it, but Percy knew where he was getting at. Percy inched closer to Luke, moving to pat him awkwardly on the back in an effort to comfort him. "It's normal to be worried. From what I heard from Annabeth, you two are really close. I didn't have much conversations with her before she left, but she seems brave, and smart too. I have no doubts she'll make it back. If she's half as good as you, there's no way she wouldn't."

Luke felt a real smile crossing his face, the corners of his lips quirked up at Percy's words. "She's not half as good- she is better than me." He turned to look at Percy, that shine in his eyes noticeable as he talked about you. "Don't let her hear that when she gets back though, she'll talk my ear off for ages."

Percy returned his own smile, elated to see Luke have some improvement in his mood, proof being the first genuine smile Percy's seen in weeks coming from him.

"So.. do you want to stop for today?" Percy attempted with a casual tone.

"Why? Backing out already?" Luke teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he inched towards the kid jokingly with his sword raised.

"No!" Percy denied frantically. "I swear I'm not using the sympathy card as an excuse to get out of training-"

The sounds of a horn cut off his words, groaning across the camp, reaching the training grounds in record time. Luke felt his heart palpitate, nearly crashing into his rib cage.

He barely had time to think, yelling to Percy with urgency flying off his tongue. "Catch you later, Perce!" Then, he was off, his legs carrying him up the hills and back towards the camp entrance.

He heard Percy yell his name in confusion, but he could apologise later for his sudden departure.

You had come back to him.

The journey seemed too long, his shoes scrambling for ground, barely scraping the dirt as he ran towards the front of camp. He didn't know what to expect, a celebration with cheers from the other campers on your arrival, a glimpse of your face with that smile he loves. What he didn't expect was the silence as he came towards a slow jog before ultimately stopping at what seemed to be a crowd gathering around something- or someone.

He pushed his way through, barely making the effort to apologise over the thought of seeing you. His eyes finally caught onto what the onlookers were staring at, and his heart dropped.

You laid on the ground, passed out with what seemed to be dark, angry coils covering your skin, ranging from your neck to the outstretch of your back that was exposed from the gash in your shirt. That stupid lyre laid not too far from you, its golden strings ripped apart.

The sound that tore from his throat barely sounded like his voice, yelling out your name as he pushed through the final barrier in the crowd before reaching for you. He nearly made it before someone dragged him back, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

The curses that left Luke's mouth would make anyone wince, and he had to resist the urge to punch whoever was holding him back as he twisted his head to face his repressor. "Chris! Get out of my way." Luke hissed, still trying to make his way to you, fury twisting in his gut as he couldn't fathom why no one's helped you yet.

"Calm down, Luke!" Chris pleaded, desperation in his eyes forcing Luke to falter. "I know you want to help her but you have to listen to me. Whatever attacked her left something contagious on her body. Someone already tried helping her but it spread to their skin too!"

Wait? While whatever was attacking your body seemed to grow more intense by the minute, as Luke's gaze locked onto your form and watched the sickening, black coils spread further and further up your neck.

"Rodriguez, does it look like I care if it spreads to me?" Luke spat out, giving his friend a final push. "If she dies, I won't ever forgive myself for standing on the sidelines. Let me go now."

The cold venom in his tone made his friend loosen his hold just enough for Luke to rip himself out of his arms to drop his knees beside you. He grabbed hold of your shoulder, which still had shreds of your shirt to prevent him from being stung by whatever was infecting you, but his other hand which grabbed hold of your back did not face the same fate. The coils snaked onto his palm, and he gritted his teeth at the burning sensation.

Just as he turned you around so he could lift you up, he heard the familiar sound of hooves stamping against the soil and he looked up to see Chiron approaching with a grim expression. No words needed to be said as Luke met eyes with the centaur, a mutual understanding as Luke wrapped his arms around your torso and legs.

He pushed through to help carry you up, barking orders for the crowd to part way as he made his way to the infirmary. The longer he held onto you, the more every bone in his body seemed to scream to let you go, but he only focused on every step it took to get you closer to help, his eyes unable to look away from the paleness of your skin, the blue to your lips.

It seemed unfit for a child of Apollo, a child of the sun, to be dull and lifeless. You looked dead, and if it wasn't for the faint drumming of your pulse he could sense from your wrist, he would've struck the name of your father with such unbridled hatred, Apollo himself would descend from the heavens to condemn him.

"Please." He begged, holding onto you tighter despite his body's cries not to. Begging to who, he did not know, but if any being could save you from the fate you did not deserve, and pass it to him instead, he would gladly offer his prayers and worship. If it meant saving you, he would take your pain and suffer it tenfold just to see you open your eyes again.

It took you five days to recover. The infirmary had been quarantined and no one save for Chiron and Will, the main healer from the Apollo cabin, was allowed in. In those five days, no one dared approach Luke, who seemed near death's door despite having received his own small dosage of ambrosia to heal the coils that had managed to sink into his skin. He had begged Chiron to let him visit you, but Chiron deemed him too unstable to be near you, your recovery process a fragile thing that required tentative hands and patience.

Waiting to see you was a torture not even he could have envisioned for himself. He had been torn apart at the seams, of his belief in the gods and the scars that were immortalized onto his body. He had lived through days of water and nothing but false hope, hiding from monsters and other horrors before he made it to camp, arriving as a scrawny boy with eyes having witnessed events no kid his age should have to go through. Yet, no pain he had experienced could compare to his fears of losing you. If he-

He couldn't think of it without wanting to puke, but if he lost you somehow, he would lose his faith in this world. There would be no one to hold him back, no you, to stop him from letting go of the world that failed him and tearing it down.

It didn't help that in those five days, he had dreams. Of a different world, of salvation. A dark, ancient voice called to him, older than time, with whispers of promised glory and revenge. There was no you, none of your soothing touches or voice to wake him. In those five days, his strength faltered and he made a deal.

On the sixth day, he was woken frantically by a shake on the shoulder from his sleep. He roused awake, dizzy and still-half asleep to see Chris talking to him in rushed incoherent words.

"Awake- She's awake, sleepy-head!"

Luke was half-dressed, still fighting off sleep with aggressive rubbing to his eyes as he tugged on his t-shirt, rushing towards the infirmary with Chris hot on his heels.

He burst through the front door, holding his breath when he finally saw you, propped up on two pillows talking to Will. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he rushed over to you.

You turned to him then, just in time to see him blink his tears away. "Luke." You called to him softly, and time seemed to stop just for the two of you, and he could only see you in his vision.

"Can you guys give us some privacy?" You asked politely, eyeing Will and Chris, but your eyes never drifted far before moving back to him.

"Of course." Will responded, quickly getting up from his chair towards the exit, dragging a confounded Chris with him with a tug on the back of his shirt. "Hey! I wanted to see her too-" "Give the two lovebirds some time alone, you idiot."

Luke inched closer to you, his heart beating so loudly in his eardrums he swears you could hear it too. You lifted your arms to him and he didn't waste time, taking you in his arms and embracing you so tight, and yet he felt he couldn't be close enough.

"You were dying. In my arms. I felt it when I carried you in here." He muttered into your shoulder, shaking as he finally let out the exhaustion and pain he had been feeling since the day you left.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." You apologised, rocking him back and forth as your voice croaked up. "All I thought of was you. When I fought against that beast, I kept repeating my promise to you. That I would come back to you. You saved me."

He shook his head, feeling his tears wet his cheeks as he pulled back to grab you by the chin, a gentle touch like he was afraid you would disappear if he couldn't see you talking to him, that your voice would be a hallucination he concocted. "I should've stopped you from going. I had a bad feeling since I heard about it. I should've protected you- prevented you from getting hurt in the first place-"

You stopped him with a kiss, desperate yet shy, before pulling away and pressing your forehead to his. "I love you, Luke. I was so scared I would never get to tell you and it would've been my biggest regret. I love you so much, Luke, and I'm sorry if this ruins anything between us but I can't hide it anymore-"

Luke cut you off the very same way you did, but with such intense hunger you gasped when he kissed you, sloppy and with even more desperation, tugging at your bottom lip and pulling you closer with his hand at nape of your neck. "I love you." He muttered through quick breaths. "I love you, it actually hurts because of how much I do." He admitted, grabbing your hand to place right above his heart, which is owned completely and only by you.

He leaned in once more, addicted to the taste of you, kissing you with one hand holding yours to his heart, the other pulling you close so that there was no space between the two of you. When he had to stop so you both could gasp for air, he pressed his forehead back to yours, the first smile stretching at his lips in days. "I never want to be apart from you ever again, you hear me, sunshine?"

You giggled at his words, nodding slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Extra: Luke reappears with you the next day when you insisted on wanting to get out of the infirmary after being cooped up away from the sun for so long. ("You're such an Apollo kid." Luke teases, which you ignore with a roll of your eyes.) He's with you every step of the way, and now that your feelings are out for each other in the open, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you on the cheek or fawn over you without hiding his intensity.

When he makes eye contact with Percy over the room, the damn kid gives him a wink and a thumbs-up.

a/n: i want to expand so much more on this, with kronos taking advantage of luke's weak mind during your recovery and more, OMGGGGGGG. tell me if you guys want more pls and i'll make more parts. thank you for reading if you made it this far <3

update: I am officially making this into a series called ‘everything in between’. To those who want to follow more on their story, you can comment on whether you want to be added to the tag list for this series or check the masterlist!

[theemporium]

[1.6k] in which a flower bouquet arrives at your door that certainly wasn't sent by your boyfriend. (based off this request)

series masterlist

.

In your defence, you had nothing to do with the prank. 

It had taken a while for Luke to come around to the idea of you and Quinn being together. He loved you both, wanted nothing more than two of his favourite people in the world to be happy. But it still took some time to get used to the shift in relationships considering almost a year ago the two of you barely spoke. 

But all things considered, he was doing much better than you expected—except for one thing. 

Luke had deemed it necessary that his brother proved himself worthy of dating his best friend. 

You thought he was joking. Quinn thought he was being dramatic. And Jack thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, meaning he totally enabled his younger brother into taking the whole thing seriously. 

You had expected Luke to give his oldest brother a shovel talk. Maybe threaten him a little. Maybe even whine about it a little longer, because honestly he got over that phase a lot quicker than you expected. 

You hadn’t expected a series of trials to be set up for your boyfriend.

It started off with random questions thrown at Quinn at the most unsuspecting times, ways for Luke to see if his older brother really knew you. He asked about your favourite colour, your favourite snacks, what you liked when you were sad and so many more simple questions that had Quinn rolling his eyes as he answered. 

Then, it escalated to throwing random scenarios. Like what Quinn would do if you were stranded and he was halfway across the country. Or what Quinn would do if you had been abducted by aliens and returned with no memory of him. Or what Quinn would do if you decided to become a diehard Leafs fan.

It was annoying for Quinn, but ultimately it was harmless. 

You hadn’t realised there was another test. You hadn’t realised you inspired it when you were on the phone with Luke a couple of weeks ago. 

It became a staple in your relationship for Quinn to send you a bouquet of flowers. It was his little way of showing he cared, of showing that distance wasn’t going to get in between him showing his love for you. It was sweet and it made your heart swoon and he fucking adored the way you always called him as soon as they arrived, sharing your reaction to his chosen bouquet each time.

So, in all honesty, it was no shock to you when a bouquet had been delivered to your door that morning. You hadn’t bothered to look for a note because you knew who it was from, you knew that Quinn would probably walk out of your room and see the flowers and throw some stupid, cheesy line at you that had your body flushing. 

“What the fuck?”

It never occurred to you that Quinn was never the one who sent them. 

He stumbled out of your room around thirty minutes after you initially woke up, his eyes still tired and bleary from sleep. He was dragging his feet along the floor as he walked, a pair of sweatpants halfheartedly thrown on as he went off to find you and try to drag you back to bed. After all, it wasn’t often he got the chance to visit you during the season. Spending that limited time together in bed sounded ideal to him. 

However, his body was wide fucking awake the second he walked into the kitchen and saw an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers sat on the counter.

You turned to look at him, your smile waning a little when you noticed his pissed off expression. “Jesus, I know you’re bad before coffee in the mornings but I’ve never seen you this grumpy.” 

Quinn ignored the jab, nodding towards the flowers. “Who sent you those?” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What? You did?”

Quinn frowned as he turned to look at you. “No, I didn’t. I chose tulips. Those aren’t tulips.” 

You shot him a blank look, very well aware the huge bouquet of red roses were not tulips. 

“Maybe you forgot what you chose,” you told him with a shrug, taking a step towards him so you could wind your arms around his waist. You felt him lean into the embrace, wrapping one arm around you as the other reached towards the flowers. “You can’t remember what you’ve chosen every single time.”

“I do,” Quinn said bluntly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course he remembered which flowers he sent you. The boy spent more time than he cared to admit choosing a bouquet, trying to imagine which ones you’d like the most. 

“Oh,” you murmured, but there was a cheesy grin making its way on your face as you placed a quick peck to his collarbone. “Petey was right, you’re such a sap.”

“I still don’t know how I feel about this newfound friendship between you and Petey,” Quinn grumbled when he noticed a note tucked between the stems of the flowers. He reached for it, a frown on his face as his eyes glanced over the note. “Who’s George?” 

You blinked, pulling your head back. “I don’t know a George.” 

Quinn’s expression darkened. “Well, some creep called George knows you and is now sending you flowers.” 

“What?” You grumbled as you reached for the note.

pretty flowers for a pretty girl  –george xx

You blinked. “What the fuck?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed at the bouquet of flowers, his arm tightening around you like he was proving a point. “They are a terrible set of roses anyways. Red is so tacky. What the fuck does George think it is, Valentine’s Day? He has shitty taste.” 

“I—” You turned to your boyfriend. “Some random guy has my address and is sending me shit, and your priority is his taste in bouquets?” 

“I’m just saying,” Quinn grumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. “He isn’t gonna win you over with some measly roses.” 

You shook your head in response. “Babe, you are—” 

RING! RING! RING!

The two of you froze for a short moment, glancing at each other as your phone’s ringing continued to echo through your small kitchen. There was a moment of hesitation before Quinn reached for it, shoulders tensed like he was expecting to see some unknown number on your screen.

His body visibly relaxed when he saw it was a facetime call from Luke.

He handed you the phone, settling in behind you with his arms still wound around you like he was unwilling to let go of you anytime soon. He hooked his chin on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours as you answered the call.

“Oh. Ew.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at your best friend. “Is there a reason you’re calling me before ten? I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.”

“Just wanted to check in,” Luke said, his eyes narrowed like he was analysing something. “Hm. You look quite calm there, Quinn.”

Quinn startled a little, lifting his head. “Did you expect me not to be calm when you called?” 

“I was hoping you’d be in some caveman-ish jealous fit of rage. I had the boys on standby to make sure you didn’t tear the college down.” 

You blinked in confusion. 

“Are you George?” Quinn asked, frowning at his youngest brother’s grinning face.

“No, Quinn, my name is Luke.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a little shit.” 

“What the hell, Luke?” You asked, sighing deeply at whatever your best friend was about to say. You already knew whatever the reason was—most likely encouraged by Jack, again—was going to be too much for your brain to handle this early in the morning. 

“What? I told you I was testing him!” Luke said, like it was the only defence he needed. “The note was hidden in the flowers to make sure he would go looking for it! I wanted to make sure he was putting in the effort with you, if he actually cared about the weird flower thing or if he would just pretend like it was fine.” 

You blinked. “You’re insane,” you said eventually, pausing for a short moment before you continued. “And it’s not a weird flower thing.” 

“I’m going to kill you when I next see you,” Quinn said, glaring at his little brother who looked far too smug for his own good. “And I’m going to shove these roses so far—”

“Talk to you later, bye!” 

You sighed, shaking your head as you let out a breathless laugh. You turned your head, finding Quinn still frowning and glowering, and gently turned his face so you could kiss him. “He’ll get tired of these tests eventually.” 

“Will he though?” Quinn muttered against your lips, his nose brushing against yours. “I swear his next test will be to tattoo your name across my forehead.”

You snorted. “If you do that, I’m breaking up with you.”

“That’s rude,” he mused and, for the first time since he woke up, a hint of a smile was tugging on his lips. “What if I do it on my own accord? Maybe I just want to prove my love for you, baby.”

“I like your pretty face. I’d rather not be staring at my own name whenever I look at it,” you retorted, watching as a full smile spread across his face as he leaned down to kiss you again. 

“Cute,” he murmured before he pulled back completely, a determined glint in his eyes that you knew well. “C’mon, get ready.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What? Where are we going?”

“To burn those flowers and then grab breakfast,” he answered simply.

“Quinn—”

“I refuse to look at them any longer, babe, they are atrocious.”

“You’re so dramatic.” 

“It’s a Hughes thing.”

.

[srvbryn]

Luke Castellan. hands

Luke Castellan X Ares!daughter!reader

Summary: you've always like Luke Castellan, but his hands - gods. You love his hands the most

Warning: hands fetish, some suggestive jokes

A/n: I got inspo by this one Sebastian Sallow fic but made it PG-13 😰😰

By some miracle, Luke hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet.

The two of you had been kept preoccupied with taking care of the cabin and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during sparring time.

Clarisse, one of your half siblings, was having none of it—clearly smarter than you gave her credit for. "You're always checking out Castellan, but it's gotten worse since we returned. Did he grow a second cock or something?"

"Clarisse! You can't just say that about him', you hissed, your face flushed beetroot red, another indication that you're staring at him, specifically his hands.

"well what got your knickers twisted since the past few days sister?" She snickered. You sighed. "Have you ever found other body parts attractive? Like-"

Clarisse gasps, "Are you attracted to his feet? You are telling me you were horny because of his feet?"

You abruptly denied her, flustered. "w-what? No, I'm talking about his veiny hands."

You nervously explained to Clarisse, "It's not his feet, it's his veiny hands. There's just something about them."

She raised an eyebrow, "Veiny hands? That's your thing?"

You nodded, feeling awkward but determined. "Yeah, they're... attractive."

Clarisse smirked, "Well, good luck with your hand fetish. Just make sure you don't drool in public."

As you continued your routine at the Ares cabin, you found yourself stealing glances at Luke's hands whenever you could. One evening, while sparring, he noticed your prolonged stares.

Luke chuckled, "What's got you so interested in my hands, (Name)?"

You blushed, stumbling over your words, "I, uh, just... noticed they're, um, nice. I mean, good for sparring."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Oh, you like a guy with skilled hands, huh?"

And since that day, it became a running joke among your half siblings. Luke even started teasing you about his "magic hands." Despite the embarrassment, you found yourself enjoying the exchanges.

One day, as you and Luke were alone in the cabin, he looked at you curiously. "Seriously, what's the deal with my hands?"

You took a deep breath, confessing, "I just find them... attractive. It's weird, I know."

Unexpectedly, Luke grinned, "Well, (Name), I never thought I'd have someone crushing on my hands, but I'm flattered."

Your cheeks burned, but you both laughed it off. Your crush on Luke's hands had become a well-known joke.

During a particularly heated sparring session, Luke couldn't help but notice your lingering gazes at his hands.

With a sly grin, he remarked, "Enjoying the view, (Name)? My hands are pretty skilled, aren't they?"

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment. "I...uh, they're just, you know, interesting to watch during training."

Luke chuckled, "Interesting, huh? Well, if you're into skilled hands, maybe you'd like a closer look."

Your heart raced as he extended his hand, teasingly offering it to you. Clarisse, shouted from the sidelines, "Go on, (Name), give those magical hands a touch!"

Blushing furiously, you hesitated for a moment before tentatively taking his hand. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and Luke's playful expression turned into a more knowing smirk.

Luke would purposely use his hands more during training, making sure you had a front-row seat to the display. The other campers caught on, and your crush became the subject of good-natured teasing.

You and Luke sat by the lake, he leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, (Name), there are other ways to appreciate skilled hands."

You shot him a questioning look. Luke's fingers traced patterns on your palm, sending a delightful shiver through you. "Just a thought," he whispered, his voice low and suggestive.

From that point on, your interactions with Luke took on a subtly flirtatious undertone. Whether it was a lingering touch during training or a shared secret glance.

The chemistry between you two intensified. Clarisse, sensing the change, simply rolled her eyes, muttering, "Finally catching on, huh?"

The flirtatious tension between you and Luke continued to escalate, turning each training session into a delicate dance of suggestive glances and teasing touches.

Clarisse and Annabeth (for some reason the both of them work together to tease you and Luke everyday), who had initially been the instigator of the whole affair, now simply smirked knowingly as the two of you exchanged moments.

Luke were sparring under the shade of the trees, he shot you a wicked grin. "You know, (Name), my hands aren't just good for holding weapons. They have other talents too."

You raised an eyebrow, playing along, "Oh really? And what talents might those be?"

He leaned in, the playful glint in his eyes never fading. "Oh, they're full of surprises. Want me to show you?"

Clarisse, observing from a distance, couldn't resist shouting, "Careful, (Name), you might not be able to handle the Castellan hand magic!"

That night, as you found yourselves alone in the Ares cabin, Luke leaned against the wall, his eyes locking onto yours. "So, (Name), any specific requests for my hands tonight?"

You pretended to think for a moment, then with a mischievous glint, replied, "Maybe a demonstration of their massage skills?"

He stepped closer, his proximity sending a thrill through you. "Well, if you insist."

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Entangled. // Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers

MDNI ; reader discretion is advised.

Summary: after so much loss, you had been betrothed and later married off to aemond as a means to put an end to the war, he takes you to harrenhal where you meet his mistress, Alys rivers. What can possibly unfold?

WARNINGS: dubcon (I'm not sure but I'm adding it just to be safe), unprotected sex, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, tiddy sucking, m/f/f, cunnilingus, threesome, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, polygamy(?), witch stuff, aemond x alys, alys x reader, aemond x reader, canon typical incest, war, loss, slight angst, slight fluff, contains spoilers for fire and blood, canon divergence, reader doesn't have a description. + not proofread.

A/N: here's a fic as promised before I leave for 2 weeks due to mid terms! hope you all enjoy it! // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WC: 2.8k

The war was devastating to you and your siblings, having lost both luke and jace, you were terrified for your life as well as your younger sibling's.

You watched as your family fell apart, slowly but surely, all of them ended up dying, leaving you and your younger siblings alone and estranged. The moment you heard your stepfather, daemon's, death; you knew that it was over, there was no more winning anymore.

Especially with Aemond surviving the fight.

Loss, Grief, and Sorrow were emotions you became familiar with.

You had to anyway.

Because with war, there would always be the plague of such pessimistic emotions that would follow, with every news it will only grow stronger.

Alas, the greens ended up winning the war.

And Alicent, as a way to make sure none of this repeats again, has quickly betrothed you to her second son, prince regent, Aemond, while your younger brother Aegon III was betrothed to Jaehaera.

It's not as if you and Aemond were on bad terms before the war, it would rather be described as more… tolerable. Aemond didn't hold any feelings towards you, neither negative nor positive.

Is what you had taught.

Until you found out that halfway through your wedding procession that it was Aemond who proposed the idea of marrying you to him, Alicent had only planned for Aegon and Jaehaera's betrothal.

You exchanged your vows half heartedly, and as soon as the wedding had ended, Aemond wasted no time and immediately whisked you away with him to Harrenhal, which he inherited and resides there to rule rather than at the keep.

You had not spoken a word to him ever since the departure. You did not want to.

Harrenhal looked and felt ominous, everything about it screamed danger, whether it was the rumours about the curses that surrounded this place, or just the overall aesthetics and appearance of it, it scared you.

You knew that it was destroyed and basically melted during Aegon's conquest, but it seemed Aemond had tried his very best to rebuild the place, yet the result was more horrific than it was ‘fixed’ you would've preferred if it had been just left untouched.

Aemond, wanting to go all the way with the formalities, he gave you a tour of the castle, before stopping in front of his chamber, a private residence where only he is allowed, “This is our chamber.” He said.

Ah yes, it also belongs to you now, doesn't it? You are his wife after all. You nodded, not wishing to speak to him, the guard opened the door.

As you both entered inside, there was already a woman who seemed to be waiting, as if she knew you both would be coming. “Aemond, you have returned.” She stood up from her seat, putting the book down, addressing him informally.

Not your grace, my prince or any formal title, just Aemond.

You took note of her appearance, hair as dark as the night sky, eyes that resembled emeralds, donning a valyrian steel necklace.

Alys rivers.

Aemond's mistress.

“Alys, I have not permitted you to enter my chambers.” Aemond speaks calmly, not realising the awkward situation that has occured with you in the room. “Oh come on Aemond, do not be so cold, Is she your wife?” She turned the conversation to you and you wished the ground would swallow you whole because of the tension in the air.

“Yes, she is.” Aemond confirms and she hums, “And you must be his mistress.” You speak, breaking the silence you maintained all throughout, acknowledging her presence, catching her by surprise. “Oh? You're know of me?” she asks and you nod, “How can i not? When there's words of your presence infiltrating every corner of the world, after all, Who could the prince have taken as a mistress after his betrothal to Floris broke?” You question, eyebrows raised, you see Aemond visibly tense, likely feeling the tension now.

“What have you heard of me, Princess?” Alys asks, tilting her head to the side, “That you are very beautiful, eyes that shone brightly like the stars amidst the night sky; that is your hair.” You tell her truthfully making her lips break into a smirk, “And what else?” She doesn't break eye contact, it's your turn to smirk now, “That you must wield powers, which you had used to bewitch the prince.” You watch as her smirk turns into a smile, “What exactly are you implying princess?”

“That you are a witch.” You put implication on the word ‘witch’, Aemond coughs awkwardly and her chuckle breaks the silence and you giggle as well, “And what do you think of it?”

Why was she so curious to know of your opinion?

“Mhm, I cannot speak for everyone, but I do not believe it, I can say that for sure.” You tell her your opinion, “And why is that so?” she asks, “Because- it's just my opinion.” you shrug and she smiles.

“Alys, you can leave now.” Aemond interferes, kicking her out and you give her a smile which she returns as she leaves the chambers. “I apologise.” Aemond expresses his apology. You simply ignore him, not wishing to speak to him.

He sighs in annoyance, “For fucks sake why can't you just talk to me? You were speaking a lot to Alys when she was here.” He breaks his formality and that's when you turn to him, “There you are uncle, I was getting bored with the formality you have shown me, pretending as though nothing happened, that your family did not just kill my family.” You say in anger.

“It's over now.” He says and you scoff, “Over?! What do you mean over?! What about the grief that I carry? The loss of my brothers, my mother, my father??! It's destroying me from the inside out!” You shout and Aemond stands still, looking down as if in regret.

“You are not the only one that has experienced grief.” He murmurs and before you can say anything, he lifts his head up and looks at you in the eyes and you immediately stop yourself from speaking.

That's right.

You aren't the only one that has experienced grief, you suddenly remember helaena and jaehaerys. You bite your lip in thought.

“I'm aware that you have experienced more loss than me, more grief than me, some directly caused by me, but that doesn't mean I'm not a victim of it either.” He sighs, “Either way, there is no use of dwelling over the past, we need to put our differences aside and make this work, you saw what happened. War will only make it worse.”

You hated that he was right.

You watch as he comes closer and you don't move away, he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, it feels so comforting, when was the last time you were held like this? You hug him back, burying your face into him, breathing his scent.

“I, I know this will not solve anything that has happened, or bring your brother back to life, but I apologize, I hope we can put our past behind us.” You hear him speak as you zone out in the comfort of his arms, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Ever since then, you and Aemond had grown closer a bit, trying your best to make everything work, he had bedded you during the days that followed, consummating your marriage. But he still laid with Alys.

You did not mind, because though you had gotten closer, you didn't always want to be around him and Alys helped you greatly with that, keeping him away from you.

You were sitting in the library of Harrenhal, reading on the chaise until you heard the door open and watched as Alys entered the room. “Greetings Princess.” She bows slightly and you raise your eyebrow, “You can drop the formalities Alys, you referring to me formally while being informal with my husband will make it seem like I'm that one mean wife who has forced herself between two star crossed lovers.” You close the book you were reading and she chuckles, “As you wish, Y/N.” she refers to you by your name and you smile. “What is that you require from me?” You ask and she shrugs, “I simply wanted to see you, see how you are doing.” She says and you nod, “Hmm.” you hum.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are delectable?” She suddenly says and you look at her, “I've gotten compliments, yes, but not to that extent.” you tell her honestly and she hums. “Well, you are extremely pretty. Almost makes me want to-” She interrupts herself with a cough and you raise an eyebrow, “Make you want to?” You question, and she looks at you, “Have you for myself.” She says directly to your face, catching you off guard. “Oh?” You smirk, “You wish to steal me from the prince? He might see it as an offence.” you tease and she chuckles, “Maybe.” She smirks and suddenly it feels as if the entire power dynamic has changed. You clear your throat in an attempt to deviate from this conversation and try to start another one.

Encounters like that had become more frequent with Alys, she was being flirty indirectly, she had even done it in front of Aemond to which he didn't bat an eye to.

You had tried your best to remain composed, only to find yourself in a situation you didn't quite expect.

Your legs were held spread open by Alys as she laid behind you, your back against her chest, you could feel the softness of her breasts against your back as she kissed your neck.

You gaze falls on Aemond who was currently undressing, he was taking off his breech which revealed his hard cock, to which he gave a few pumps to ease the tension, “Come on Aemond, don't take way too much time.” Alys coos and Aemond obeys, lining his cock to your cunt, sliding it down your fold, gathering the wetness on his cock and later placing his tip against your entrance.

He then slowly pushes inside, causing you to gasp and grip the sheets below, Alys’ hands travel up to your torso and she grabs your breasts, playing with the nipple as she continues placing kisses on your neck.

Aemond fully sheaths himself inside you, grunting when he feels you clench around him, “Fuck, I love this cunt so much.” He groans before drawing his hips back and pushing forward, thrusting. “I know right? Been wanting to taste it for a while, let me at it when you're done.” Alys replies to him, she turns your face sideways and presses her lips against yours, kissing you.

Aemond's tip prods at the sweet spot located inside of you, causing you let out a loud moan into Alys’ mouth to which she chuckles, one of her hands leave your breasts and go to your cunt, she rubs small circles on your clit, elevating the pleasure you're feeling, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you as you come all over his cock, clenching him, causing him to moan and eventually finish inside you. He pulls out slowly, his cock beginning to soften.

Alys is swift in her movements, moving from behind you to facing you from the front, she pushes you further up the bed before lowering herself down to the level where she is face to face with your cunt, she hums in delight as she watches Aemond's spend ooze out from you.

Her tongue collects some of it before she licks a long stripe up to your clit, before engulfing it completely with her moan, which causes you to throw your head back in place. Your hand flies to her head to grip it, your fingers locked in her tresses. You whimper as she pulls on your clit with her mouth, nibbling it. She travels a little down towards your hole and pushes her tongue inside, fucking you with it, her nose rubbing against your clit.

You watch as as Aemond begins to harden again, he positions himself behind Alys, grabbing her by her hips and lifting her lower body up, You feel Alys moan against your cunt as she feels him enter her, her body rocks back and forth as he thrusts into her, she uses your thighs as a leverage to keep her steady, annoyed by the fact that he's using so much force to the point her face keeps leaving your cunt, her tongue swirls around your clit which causes the band in your stomach to snap, you gasp out her name and she moans into your cunt as she reaches her orgasm, teeth clamping down onto your clit but not too harshly yet enough to cause slight sting. Aemond pulls out before he can finish inside her, finishing on her back.

Why did he not finish inside her?

The thought flies over your head as they swiftly change positions again.

Another round? You're already too overstimulated from the previous pleasure.

Aemond lays down and pulls you on top of him, you lay your hands flat against his chest and balance yourself, he lifts your hips up and lines his cock against your entrance again before sinking you down on it, letting out a groan. “Seven hells, I just can't get used to this cunt no matter how many times I take it.” He grunts, “Sit on my face, Alys.” He looks at her and she smiles, immediately obeying, she faces you and you watch as her cunt hovers right above his mouth before she descends to it, his tongue immediately capturing her sex.

You slowly start moving your hips, causing Aemond to groan against her cunt, one of his hands remains firmly on your hip as the other travels to Alys's thigh, gripping it for leverage.

‘This is what heaven probably feels like’ Aemond thinks.

You bounce up and down his cock, Alys leans towards you to capture your lips into a kiss and you let her, your hands roam all over her body before reaching her breasts, you give a slight squeeze to them, making her breath hitch. She kisses downwards your neck, to your breast before taking your nipple in her mouth.

She suckles on your tit while maintaining eye contact with you, and you can already feel the third orgasm of night beginning to build up. She moans with your breast in her mouth causing pleasant vibrations to shoot up your skin, it seems as if she had reached her peak.

She quickly get off of Aemond's face and he sits up, fully focusing his attention onto you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, you can feel the taste of Alys’ essence on his tongue as he shoves in your mouth, deepening the kiss, he ruts into you at a speedy pace and pulls away from the kiss, to watch your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts upwards.

His mouth descends onto one of them, tongue playing with the bud, flicking it up and down, “I can't wait to see these swell with milk when my seed takes, I bet you'd taste so fucking good.” He growls, biting your nipple making you wince.

And it isn't long before you reach your third orgasm of the night, moaning his name loudly as you finish on his cock, and he once again finishes inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed, painting your walls.

You fall slumped onto his shoulder, exhausted from all the intimate acts you have committed with Aemond and his lover, and practically your lover too now.

He pulls you off him and lays you down next to him gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you watch as Alys lays on your stomach, and she turns to press a kiss to your lower abdomen, right where your womb was located and whispers some words which you couldn't make sense of.

She then climbs up further and lays beside you, hugging you close to her chest and Aemond pulls you both into an embrace.

“She'll soon give birth to children that will look like the three of us.” Alys says to Aemond and he hums, “How?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows and she chuckles, “Maybe that being a witch rumour wasn't false after all.” She says and you gasp, “Though, I never really bewitched the prince, I never had to.” She chuckles and leans over to kiss Aemond before falling back to place.

You thought Alys was just bluffing and joking at that time, until you gave birth to twins months later.

Who ended up having features of all three of you, your son, having one emerald green eye and one purple eye with your hair colour, and your daughter with platinum blonde hair with your eye colour and facial features of alys.

You wondered how she'd done it.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[greatestexpectationss]

A Quiet Moment

Luke Castellan x Fem!Daughter of Persephone Reader

Description: You and Luke get a rare quiet moment in Cabin 11 accompanied by some troubling thoughts. Luke's always there to make you feel better and you know him better than anyone else.

Can be read as a stand-alone or part 2 to Poison Ivy

Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, mentions of mental health (season depression), making out, I think thats it?? Also not edited sorry!!!!!!!

“Luke, this is not good,” you’re pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. The cabin is in total disarray, you’d left Luke and a majority of other campers there to begin to clean it while you helped the Demeter kids in the Strawberry fields. You’d come back to, though a smaller mess, a mess nevertheless. 

 Cabin inspections are later tomorrow afternoon, and you can already tell the Hermes cabin is so totally screwed. Cabin 11 is chaotic as always, to be fair it isn’t Luke’s fault, Hermes houses his children, unclaimed children, and minor gods' children alike. As a child of Persephone, you’ve only ever known the Hermes cabin as home other than the few nights you’ve spent in the Demeter cabin with your friend Katie, you fit in there as a child of Persephone and your power of chlorekensis makes you fit right in. Chiron in a desperate attempt to make more room in the Hermes had asked you if you’d like to move into the Demeter cabin permanently. You’d told him no, Luke needed your help managing the campers, but you’re sorely regretting it now. 

Your boyfriend pouts at you from his bunk where he’d collapse in exasperated exhaustion just moments before you’d return. “This whole thing is rigged, how’re we expected to be clean, we’ve got like triple the campers?” he groans. Then he sits up on his elbows eyeing you up and down. You’ve discarded your camp half-blood t-shirt and are left in your forest green spaghetti strap and dark denim shorts. He smiles like he’s won the whole damn lottery. You're exasperated resolve melts a bit when he speaks again.

“You look pretty,” he compliments you. You smile, blush, and roll your eyes before collapsing on his bunk beside him, ignoring the campers scurrying around you to get to their activities and clean up their own messes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as he reaches over and moves a piece of hair out of your face. “Anytime Poison,” he replies, a cheeky smile on his face. Then as if remembering something he sits up and addresses the few campers that are still scrambling about the cabin, “Go enjoy the rest of your free time, we’ll take care of the rest of the damage in the morning.” They all cheer and thank him, but you know this was just a clever ploy for Luke to get the cabin empty for a second. 

“How was your day?” you ask him, sitting up and sitting crisscross on his bed. He follows suit facing you and interlacing both your hands between you. “You’re looking at it sweetheart,” he gestures around to the mostly not clean cabin. 

“This took you all day?” you tease. Luke flicks your forehead, you laugh in response. 

“Don’t be mean.”

“Who me? I’m not being mean.”

He shoots you a look.

“Well now you know how I feel, you’re always teasing me.”

It’s takes about five seconds for Luke to wrestle you onto your back, knee slotted between your thighs, while both of his hands mercilessly attack your side. Your writhing beneath him, laughing so hard you can’t breath. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you squeal, he halts his movements and pokes the dimple by the corner of your mouth, that only shows when you’re laughing hysterically. 

“That’s what I thought Poison, you know we’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” he’s slowed his movements, now one hand still stroking you cheek, moving down to your hip and pressing you depper into the mattress, his other hand holds him up so he’s not completely crushing you. You blush furiously at his implication, the last time the two of you had been in this position, it had been sinful, granted you weren’t in your cabin where anyone could walk in at any moment, but still. “You’re gross,” is what you decide to respond with, but he just laughs and leans down to kiss you anyways. 

Kissing Luke is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve kissed other boys before him, but something about the way he kisses you, you know he’s absolutely ruined you for anyone else, he kisses you in a way you know will screw up forever. You don’t know what you’ll do if he wakes up one day and decides he doesn’t want you anymore. The thought makes you kiss him harder, and pull him closer. His thumb rubs soothing circles against your exposed skin from where your shirt  had ridden up a bit. One of your hands rests at the base of his neck pulling him closer, begging him to kiss you harder. Your other hand hovers at his lower back, when you try to pull him closer there too, he pulls his face back from yours, breathing heavily. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, he kisses your check once on both sides softly and then looks at you again.

“Nothing, just keep kissing me,” you tell him before pulling him back to your lips. 

He mumbles your name against them, but then indulges you for a moment, your brain is going a million miles a minute, you don’t know why you can’t turn it off sometimes, but the thought of loosing Luke plagues your mind too often, were you destined to be like your father, who loved your mother in the spring only to be left again by the fall, he had never truly gotten over his one great love, Persephone. You couldn’t imagine ever getting over Luke either, especially with the way he’s kissing you so tenderly now.

He pulls away again, making you pout. 

“I can hear you thinking, what’s up?”

You almost tell him but he’s always trying to make you feel better and for once you want there to just be nothing wrong. You’ve always been a little more darkness than Luke, you think. He’s the camp golden boy, perfect in all the ways that count. You’re Persephone’s only (claimed) daughter, who grows plants from nothing, and grows vines of poison ivy around people who piss you off. Your moods change with the seasons, and as Fall grows nearer you can feel yourself growing darker. You just want a moment with your incredibly hot boyfriend to not think of the impending darkness that’s right around the corner.

“I’m okay, really,” you tell him, he’s not convinced clearly because he stays hovering over you but he won’t lean back down to kiss you. “Luke, c’mon we’ve got like–” you check your watch, “30 minutes until the first round of campers are back.”’

“But you’re worried about something, I can tell,” he mutters, “It’s almost September, that’s what’s buggin’ you huh?” 

Sometimes you hate how well he knows you, “Okay, yeah, you’re super duper smart now do you wanna make out with me or what?”

He laughs, and leans down to kiss you again, it’s a peck not at all what you were looking for and you groan. “Luke–”

“Look, I’m all for making out, and I’ll distract you if you really want me to,” his voice is husky in your ear, in the way he knows you love, but then he pulls back to look at you again, “but we both know this is still gonna be buggin’ you afterward, and I just want to make you feel better.”

You sigh, cause you know he’s right, annoyingly right, and stupidly handsome, you still really want to make out with him, but you don’t want him to feel like he’s a distraction, because he isn’t. He’s Luke, and you love him with everything you have.

“You’re never a distraction,” you promise him eagerly, you move to sit up and he follows suit, leaning against the headboard of the bunk and opening his arms wide for you to snuggle into is chest, you place a kiss over his heart. “You’re the main event baby.”

He snorts and pulls you closer, “That was incredibly corny Poison, you going soft on me?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. But seriously, you're incredibly sweet."

You lean up and kiss his jaw. He kisses your forehead in return.

A moment of silence passes before he asks the burning question on both of your minds. 

“Are you going home this year?”

You’d spent most of your time at Camp Half Blood being a summer only camper, but the last two years you’d been a year rounder. Your dad had never really been the same after Persephone disappeared from him, never to return, at least according to your aunt. When you’d been younger you’d been a handful and provided your dad with a distraction from his sorrows. But as you’d grown older, made friends, and forged your own life, your father had started drinking again. The more he destroyed himself, the more he destroyed you and your already almost non existent relationship with your mother. You resented him, but you resented her more for leaving him with nothing more than a hollowed shell of who he used to be. He’s been writing you letters, but you can’t bring yourself to respond.

“Probably not,” you admit finally, “I don’t want to see him and besides,” you curl into Luke more, “I want to stay with you.”

Luke’s arms tighten around you as he peaks down at your face, “You do?”

“Of course I do.” 

Luke kiss your head, you smell like flowers and goodness and the things he loves. He thinks he could stay right here with you forever. “Are you sure?” he asks you. 

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask, feeling self conscious now, you don’t have the opportunity to let your anxiety consume you for long before Luke is reassuring you. 

“Are you kidding? Of course I want you to stay. I love it when you’re here, you know that.” 

You smile up at him softly, his brow furrows, a little crease at the center where you can tell he’s thinking really hard about something. You reach up to smooth it out, but he catches your hand with his own. “You do know that right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, and you do. You really know it, in the back of your mind, you know Luke loves you as much as you love him. 

“Good, because sometimes I think you don’t get it, how much I love you. I’d do anything for you, just say the word,” he lets you reach up to smooth the crease from his brows.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You get this little crease between your brows when you’re worrying about stuff, did you know that?”

Your pinned back down on the bed before you get a response, he’s kissing you like you’ve been wanting him to this whole time, Hot and searing with his hands in all the right places. You could die happy, right here, wrapped in his arms, his lips pressed against yours, and his tongur sneaking into your mouth. You stay like that for a few minutes, unaware of the time ticking away. You both pull away a little breathless. 

“I love you,” he says quietly, “a lot.”

“I love you too,” you reply kissing the bottom of his scar softly, “a lot.”

He leans down to kiss you again but you place a hand on his chest pushing him away from you. “We should probably clean the cabin now,” you relent, sighing as you look at your watch, the first round of campers should be returning in about five minutes, Luke takes a look at your watch and groans.

 “You were right,” he admits, head tucked into you neck as you play with his hair.

“I’m sure I was but youre gonna have to be a little more specific babe,” you reply matching what you’re sure is his cheeky smile buried in you neck. 

“We should have just made out.” 

You push him off the bed.

[bumblesimagines]

The Beasts of The North

Part 3

Request: Yes or No

Summary: With the help of Sara Snow, Jace manages to get on the good side of his hosts, although he's unable to shake feelings he hasn't experienced in ages.

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, nothing much else tbh

Drops this and runs

~~~

Jace sloshed around the stew in his bowl with his spoon, the steam rising from the bowl gently caressing his face and coaxing him back to sleep. He kept his sleepy eyes locked on the contents of the stew and avoided glancing in the mere direction of his hosts as embarrassment still swirled around in his stomach, though they were the least of his concerns with the insistent pounding of his head. 

"Eat, princeling." Ser (Y/N)'s voice forced him to look up, his skin tingling beneath his clothes and shoving the lingering tiredness away. The image of his adoring smile and joyful laugh flashed in his mind again, and he took a spoonful of stew to shove in his mouth. He hummed happily at the warmth invading his taste buds, a shudder darting down his spine. "Have a good night, then, aye? I told Russal to keep an eye on you." 

"Thank you, Ser. I am man-grown, however. I should have paced myself." Jace told him after swallowing down the stew, his tongue swiping out over his lips and eagerly eating more. Ser (Y/N) watched him, his eyes flickering away to look at a servant and nod before moving back to Jace and studying him. The servant swiftly approached and set down a cup beside Jace's bowl, the dark purple liquid swirling with the movements. 

"Beet juice will help with your sickness." Ser (Y/N) told him, his attention returning to Rickon as Sara fed him his breakfast little by little. The boy blissfully ate, humming and clapping his hands in delight with each spoonful. It made Jace itch to know of his little brothers, to know how his family was doing. Any news from Dragonstone would be by man or raven, both painfully slow means of communication. 

"Ah, thank you." Jace tore his eyes away from Rickon and wrapped his fingers around the cup, attempting to hide his distaste and resisting the urge to crinkle his nose when the earthy, almost salty taste hit his tongue. He swallowed the first gulp and set the cup down with tightened fingers, his teeth grinding together as he battled the desire to make his disgust known. He heard a quiet snort from beside Ser (Y/N) and glanced up at Lord Cregan. The corner of his lips had curled up in amusement. 

"We'll be going on a hunt in the coming days, Prince Jacaerys." Lord Cregan spoke, one arm bracing against the table while the palm of his other hand ran along Ser (Y/N)'s back until it settled at his lover's hip. Jace stared at his hand, the taste of the juice almost forgotten as he watched Lord Cregan's fingers massage into Ser (Y/N)'s side. His eyes jumped back up to meet Lord Cregan's again, his cheeks warming when he met the lord's stare. "You've attended hunts before?" 

"Yes, I have." Royal hunts, at least, typically in celebration of namedays in the Kingswoods.

His mother had mentioned once with her arms curled around his shoulders while they gazed into the fireplace and listened to Luke's soft snoring that Harwin Strong loved hunts; the anticipation of tracking, the thrill of chasing and catching, the satisfaction of slicing apart the animal and knowing bellies would soon be full.

There'd been a time when Jace had despised having anything in common with the man he once viewed as an uncle, but he'd grown to appreciate their likeness. He and his brothers were the last of Harwin, fragments and pieces mixed to create them. "I enjoy a good hunt, Lord Cregan. I look forward to it."

"Good." Lord Cregan gave an approving nod and Jace's chest swelled with relief. "Cregan will do, Prince, as will just (Y/N)." 

Progress, Jace realized with more sweet relief. He smiled and dipped his head in appreciation, his eyes flickering toward the knight and almost sighing thankfully when no objections fell from his lips. "Jacaerys will do fine as well, or Jace if you desire. We are amongst... friends, are we not?" He carefully watched their reactions, tension slowly forming on his shoulders. (Y/N) raised his gaze to study him, and Jace resisted showing his nerves. 

"Aye." The knight simply responded before turning to peer at his lover, his lips parting to speak but Cregan swooped down to kiss him, briefly halting his words. Cregan drew back, his eyes crinkled sweetly and hand tugging his lover further in his side. The brief, adoring looks that passed over their features before the stoicness returned always sparked something in Jace; a desire to be gazed upon with such care. "How is the winter town doing, love?"

"Good thus far. The market square is nearly full with enough produce and goods to buy and trade, and the homes are steadily being filled." Cregan answered, his eyes thoughtful and almost distant, his mind likely running through a list of things he had to do and deal with in preparation for winter. Cregan was by all means the lord everyone made him out to be: dedicated to his duties and thorough in his work. His people looked at him with admiration and trust, something Jace hoped to achieve when he ascended the throne and wore the crown of his ancestors.

In the same light, he thought about the previous night and the way Cregan's hand had plunged beneath (Y/N)'s pants. He'd noticed how much Cregan touched his lover, his palm almost always finding its way to (Y/N)'s back or hip and the way his eyes returned to him no matter how far or close the distance between them was. As observant and almost possessive as Cregan could be, he must've been something in bed, with his strong hands grasping gently yet firmly and eyes never breaking contact. 

He thought of (Y/N), too. The knight was rough with his squires and trainees, tossing them around with ease and giving orders as if it were second nature to him but he treated Cregan so gently, so lovingly. Jace couldn't help but wonder if the fire in him soothed with Cregan, or if it intensified and had to be tamed all over again. A bear and a wolf... two beasts of the North completely and utterly smitten with each other. 

The heat dancing along his skin surged when he locked eyes with Sara across the table, her lips curled into an amused yet knowing smile. He stiffened and mustered a polite smile in return, tilting his head downward and shoveling more stew into his mouth. (Y/N) and Cregan hardly spared him a glance, too deep in their discussion over preparations to take note of the flushed prince but their concentration broke when Rickon made a loud noise followed by a gurgle and giggles. 

"Little pup," Cregan cooed and Rickon turned to him immediately, his arms reaching out eagerly toward his father, his eyes bright and gleeful with the innocence of a child too young to understand the cruelty of the world around them. Cregan took him into his arms swiftly and the boy released a noise of contentment, his little fingers dragging and digging into Cregan's beard. They curled and tugged but it only made Cregan rumble with a small laugh that sent another wave of heat through Jace. "You're as strong as a direwolf, my boy." 

"Or a bear." (Y/N) piped in, his cheek pressing against Cregan's clothed bicep and softened eyes watching the toddler. Rickon leaned forward and placed his hand over (Y/N)'s cheek, more gibberish leaving the boy that only he could understand. With a light chuckle, (Y/N) pressed a kiss to Rickon's little hand as he rose from the table, planting a firmer one on Cregan's temple once he stood fully. 

"You ought to give your boys a break, (Y/N)." Sara told him, the twinkle in her eye all too familiar to the one Jace oft' saw in Baela when an idea struck. "Perhaps Prince Jacaerys would like a chance to train and... freshen up on his skills."

Too caught up in her words to insist she also drop the title, Jace's mouth only formed silent words, his widened eyes darting between the woman and the knight until (Y/N) grunted and pursed his lips. "I wouldn't wish to harm the princeling, Sara." He said. Not a rejection, but a challenge, Jace could hear it in his tone. 

"Nonsense." Jace stood from the table, bringing the cup of beet juice back to his lips and almost immediately regretting it when he became reacquainted with the taste. He forced it down a second time, and despite the horrid taste, his actions granted him an amused curl of (Y/N)'s lips. "I am of fire and blood, Ser. I do not break easy." 

"Is that so?" For a moment, Jace thought the teasing tone was a mistake on his part, something he misheard or mistook for something else, but when (Y/N)'s amused grin turned lazy and his eyes slid over to make eye contact with his lover, a heat coiled around the prince's gut. (Y/N)'s fingers brushed over Cregan's shoulder, and while the act seemed casual enough it made him flare with curiosity. "Come then, princeling." 

Ever the quick learner, Jace ensured to wear the appropriate layers before daring to step out of the castle, the bottom of his boots crunching the snow beneath his feet until they reached the training area where the snow had been swept aside to reveal mushy, moist dirt. Jace eyed those who gathered to watch, mostly wards and squires who seemed thrilled at not being on the receiving end of (Y/N)'s blade for the day. He wanted to make a good impression on them and fill them with confidence in their future ruler, but he mostly wished to earn (Y/N)'s respect, even if it left him a little bloody and bruised. 

"Of fire and blood, aye?" (Y/N)'s fingers wrapped around the handle of his sword, unsheathing the weapon that gleamed in the sparse sunlight peeking through the drifting clouds above. Unlike his near-emotionless expressions from the day before, the knight held a large smirk on his face that reeked of confidence. He saw then a glimpse of the boy Cregan had once been at odds with. 

And when their swords clashed, he understood the respect others had for him. 

(Y/N) moved swiftly, his swings and dodges half-calculated half-instinctive. Jace trained with plenty of boys and men throughout his life, from his uncles to his brother to squires and master-at-arms in the Keep and Dragonstone, but his uncles had always been the ones to lunge with the intent to hurt. Jace had grown used to training with Luke, a boy smaller and weaker than him, one who needed constant lectures and training. (Y/N) was a knight, a northerner, a Mormont. He was unrelenting and vicious, and the sweat breaking out throughout Jace's body chilled him. 

Jace relied on all his training, and perhaps Targaryen instinct, as they swung their swords and dodged hits. Jace made a good effort, springing back when necessary and lunging forward when the opportunity arose. He was a prince, a dragon, but (Y/N)'s experience and near-viciousness triumphed when his blade swung and stopped short of Jace's neck. Jace swallowed, his throat dry and chest heaving. Despite feeling tired, the rush of training made everything buzz in his system, and he released a breathy laugh. 

"Better than most, Jace." The prince soaked up the praise and use of his nickname, basking it in when (Y/N)'s students grumbled under their breaths and averted their stares. (Y/N) lowered his sword and tucked it back in his sheath, one stride closing the distance between them as his arm reached out toward him. Jace practically vibrated with pride, his fingers curling just below (Y/N)'s elbow.

"Perhaps I'll break you another time." His low, quiet voice only reached Jace's ears and left his skin lit ablaze. The amusement in his eyes disappeared once he turned to the others, barking orders at them and sending them scrambling off. 

Jace returned to the castle with giddiness, finding the table had long been cleared and spotting Rickon sitting on the floor with maids playing with him while Sara watched on. She turned to look at him when he approached, offering him a smile and tilting her head to the side, the single braid in her hair swaying with her movements. "You're alive." She grinned teasingly. "How was it, Prince?"

"Good," Jace answered, suddenly aware he'd asked Sara for advice and she'd offered (Y/N)'s respect on a silver platter. Smart girl, she was, it was no doubt why Cregan trusted her so much. "(Y/N) appears to... tolerate me more."

"Good." Sara echoed. "Tolerance is the first step toward acceptance, even if it means being knocked down a few times."

Throughout the following few days, Jace managed to cement himself among the northerners through training, drinking, and bantering. It was easy to feel out of place among bulky men with long beards who'd likely be able to break his arm with just one hand, but he grew to enjoy spending time with Russal and Byran, the kennel master. They were loud and boisterous but finding comfort in their presence was easy. 

Of course, he hadn't flown to Winterfell for a time of relaxation and getting out of his princely duties. Jace reminded himself as such each evening when he found a cup of ale being thrusted in his hand and sat across the lovers for dinner. But, it was hard catching Lord Cregan by himself to discuss the real reason for Jace's arrival.

Cregan, as expected, was a busy man with many duties to fulfill as winter drew closer and closer. He was constantly on the move, either hauling something over his shoulder to help or discussing different things with his men or the villagers piling into the winter town. Similarly, Jace oft' found (Y/N) working as well and the few times he took breaks, he'd been right at Cregan's side taking tasks off his plate. It was endearing to watch but exhausting to keep up with them. 

The morning of the hunt, Jace trekked out past the high walls surrounding Winterfell and through the winter town. In King's Landing, he would've been expected to take at least four knights with him to ensure his safety from the smallfolk but in the winter town, hardly anyone spared him a glance. He was unknown amongst his mother's people, he realized quickly. It was no wonder many of his ancestors took the time to venture out and visit more of their lands. He made a mental note to write to his mother about it, to ensure they'd make a good impression on all of Westeros, not just King's Landing.

He tilted his head toward the clouded skies once he reached the outskirts of the winter town, only having to wait a few minutes before a dark shadow passed overhead, dipping down from above the clouds and landing on the ground in front of him. His large legs kicked up a wave of snow, one luckily aimed in the opposite direction from him and the winter town. Vermax shook himself and turned to look at his rider, a soft rumbling noise emitting from his chest.

"Skorkydoso glaesā?" Each step forward made his boots sink further into the deep snow beneath them. Jace reached out toward his dragon and pressed his palms flat against Vermax's olive-green scales. He felt naturally warm to the touch despite the bitter cold around them and Jace could only smile as he felt the large breaths his dragon took. Vermax chittered sharply, his tail raising and slamming back down against the ground in a display of annoyance. "Ziry iksos iōrves, nyke gīmigon."

The sound of snow crunching brought their attention toward the winter town where Jace noticed (Y/N) lingering near, cautiously eyeing the dragon. "The hunting party departs soon, Jacaerys." He told him, his fingers adjusting one of his gloves and eyes never leaving the winged beast. Vermax watched him closely, as he did with most strangers, and the attention seemed to put (Y/N) at unease. 

"Come," Jace coaxed, turning his body sideways and smiling reassuringly at him. (Y/N) made a face, his lips puckering slightly and brows dipping in dismay while he gazed at him as if he'd grown two heads. Jace chuckled gently and beckoned him closer once more with his hand, keeping the other one pressed against Vermax to ensure he remained calm and composed. The cold made Vermax snappier than usual but he trusted his dragon to remain relaxed in his presence. 

Slowly, (Y/N) walked forward, his eyes flickering between Vermax and Jace with each step he took. It took guts to approach a dragon but it also took a heavy amount of trust in the rider, and the knowledge of that appeased Jace. The knight stopped some feet away, his weight shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably before he finally stepped close enough for Jace to reach out and grab his wrist. 

"Sagon gīda," Jace told Vermax as he moved his hand from his wrist upward, covering the back of (Y/N)'s hand with his own and pressing his palm to Vermax's side. His scaled body rumbled with another noise, a cloud of air puffing out from his nostril when he gave a soft snort. He chittered again, this time more gently, and turned his head away in disinterest. "Sȳz, Vermax." Jace praised softly. 

"I've seen and fought plenty of bears in my life." (Y/N) murmured, and Jace nearly withdrew his hand from shock. His widened eyes darted away from his dragon to stare into the side of (Y/N)'s face, his jaw nearly going slack. He'd never considered those who resided on Bear Island would eventually have to come face to face with the natives. "I'd certainly rather face ten of 'em over this beast." 

"Vermax is-" Jace cleared his throat, his eyes drifting toward their gloves hands pressed together. For a moment, he wished the leather separating their skin was gone, but he quickly shoved the thought away. "He is quite formidable. He grows larger and quicker every year, as do the rest of our dragons."

"He is not fully grown yet, aye? I'd hate to face him on the battlefield in years to come, then." (Y/N) exhaled a rather shaky breath, his lips tugging into a grim line. "They claim your uncle's dragon is one of the largest in the world. Vhagar, was it? How do you reckon her rider will take to the news of your mother sending out envoys?" 

"My brother and I are diplomats." Jace asserted, his mother's urgent tone echoing in his years. "Moth- Queen Rhaenyra had us swear upon the Faith we were not to engage with anyone, Green or not, as her envoys. If the Greens were to desire bloodshed, they'd risk losing honorable allies.. if any of the Usurper's traitorous allies can be considered honorable." His jaw clenched as he spoke and Vermax crooned in response to his irritation. 

(Y/N) stared at him for a few seconds of silence, his brows furrowed and lips remaining in that grim line. His (E/C) eyes flickered between Jace's, searching the dark brown of his for an answer to an unspoken question. "The Realm has been at peace since the time of the Old King, Jace. Many of our men have the taste of battle from wildlings but to most... war is but something they heard of only in tales. The stability of the Realm is being threatened and nothing good has ever come from dragons dancing." 

"This time is... more valuable than anything, Ser. With the support of the North and Cregan Starks army, we may yet have an advantage over the Usurper. If we can put an end to their delusions, the Realm will become stable once more. There is nothing more the Queen values than peace, she has said so herself time and time again. She does not desire blood to be spilled on either side." Jace spoke carefully but truthfully, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest from nerves.

His mother had ruled Dragonstone for many years but the island had always been peaceful and easily manageable. Few were the times he'd be called upon to serve as a cupbearer, depriving his ears of the negotiations and discussions exchanged between ruling lords. Maester Gerardys had been his teacher since he was a mere child, and while some lessons included the art of politics and diplomacy, he'd been more focused on what lessons would further prove the Valyrian blood flowing through his veins. 

"You have much faith in your mother." (Y/N) noted, his typically emotionless voice carrying a softer tone. "But she is your mother, Jace. She is but a mere stranger to us and one who holds much power in her hands. The brutality of the North allows for us northerners to form bonds as close as family... but southerners know little of our struggles."

"That is... true." Jace swallowed and nodded, his curls brushing along his cheeks with the movement. "But I am a Southerner, and I see plenty of both the struggles and bonds you speak of, Ser. You can trust I will ensure Queen Rhaenyra will receive detailed reports of my time here so she may understand the lives of her subjects better. When peace is restored, I will ask her to travel just as the Good Queen Alysanne did. You have my word."

"Your word means little to me, princeling." (Y/N) said, and Jace's shoulders almost slumped but he ensured to keep them squared and back just as he'd been taught. The knight carefully pulled his hand back from Vermax, sparing the dragon a cautious glance as he did so. Jace pulled his hand away from (Y/N)'s, almost missing the feeling of it beneath his palm. "I have little choice but to hold you to it, though. We will speak more after the hunt."

The snow crunched beneath their boots on their walk toward the awaiting horses and eager hounds. Jace took note of the horses as he made his way toward one, his brows lifting upward at the sheer height and muscle of the powerful beasts clearly bred for the winter landscape they called home.

He climbed atop one and settled over the fur-covered saddle, his hands grasping at the reins and tugging his horse closer to Cregan and (Y/N) once he grew used to the difference in height. When the last of the hunting party gathered, they began the trek into the forest with light chatter and quiet laughter filling the cold air.

The forest held a serene air to it with a gentle rustling of the branches and the occasional call of an animal in the distance. Growing up in King's Landing and Dragonstone restricted him to only visiting the Kingswoods during celebrations, leaving him yearning for namedays and festive occasions each year when he could slip on his hunting clothes and travel with the rest of the men.

But, the Kingswoods hardly compared to the beauty of the woods of the North. The long expanses of snow, the sharp whistling of wind, the hint of eeriness that kept him alert; he enjoyed it all. 

"Is Bear Island any different than Winterfell, (Y/N)?" Jace questioned, his breath forming a cloud that disappeared into the air and brought a small smile to his face. He tilted his head toward the two men and further adjusted his coat over his shoulders, the fur lined along the hood tickling the back of his head and neck.

"There are more bears." (Y/N) responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. "The Ironborn will occasionally raid those who live close to the shores. Bold, they may be, but no one can recover from taking an axe to the head. The women and men of Bear Island protect themselves and each other well. We must rely on each other, as the rest of the North does when winter comes and food grows scarce."

The corner of Cregan's lips twitched upward. "The Mormont's do well in defending their island."

"Aye," A wolfish grin briefly passed over (Y/N)'s features and sent a pleasing chill down Jace's spine. He wondered how it must've been for the residents of Winterfell when a feral cub stood at their doorstep in all his youthful arrogance, how vexed young Cregan must've been. "Bears are territorial." 

"Aye," Cregan echoed, the ghost of a knowing smirk on his lips when he gazed upon his lover. "They certainly enjoy marking their territory."

Jace forced himself to look away, to focus on the prints in the snow left behind by hooves and paws in hopes of restraining his mind before it could be left free to race. Despite the teeth-chattering cold surrounding them and making his cheeks flush, it did little to soothe the warmth of his skin beneath the many layers of clothing. He could only pray the redness of his cheeks was brushed off as an effect of the chill. 

Luckily for him, the dogs gathered at the legs of Byran's horse and began yipping, signaling their noses had caught a scent. The eagerness and anticipation rolling off the rest of the men seemed contagious, and Jace's legs nearly gave out underneath him when he slipped off his horse and forgot about the height. He staggered a bit but a broad hand pressed into his back and steadied him once more. Jace glanced over his shoulder and met Cregan's eyes. 

"Ready for your first hunt in the North, princeling?" He questioned, voice low and husky and making Jace's tongue twist in his mouth. He simply nodded when words failed him. "Come then, Jace. Let us show you how we do things here."

[withwritersblock]

Oh Well, So What

~Oh Well, So What by HAPPY LANDING~

Author's Note: Requested like months ago, oopsie Summary: Fans find out about Nico's "secret" relationship Warnings: one swear word Word Count: 1,006 Nico Hischier x fm!reader

She lived only two blocks away from the Arena. Depending on Nico’s game schedule, he would usually walk with her home to her apartment. Tonight was one of those nights. The Devils beat the Golden Knights in overtime and it was a tough win but they got it.

Tonight was like every other home game, she was waiting for him outside the locker room. She would chat with the other wives and girlfriends as she would wait and wait. Nico was always last out of the locker room, no matter what. He would always walk out with a shy smile as he made his way over to Y/N.

She lifted her gaze from her phone to see the Hughes brothers and Nico walking out at the same time. Nico smiled widely once he saw her waiting for him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Nico mumbled to the pair before he excitedly walked over towards Y/N. Luke and Jack chuckled as they walked past the pair towards the parking garage.

“Hi,” he mumbled as he quickly wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her tightly to his chest. “Rough one, huh?” he questioned.

She took in a deep breath before she pulled away, meeting his gaze. His hands were still around her waist as he scanned her features. “You still got the two points,” she offered while raising her eyebrows. He nodded, leaning towards her pressing his lips against hers for a few seconds.

“We did,” he let out before he leaned towards her, pecking her lips once more. He slowly pulled his grip away from her, holding out his hand. She gladly took it as the pair began walking out of the parking garage towards the main road. It was freezing out, but it was easier to walk than drive.

“Do you want to order from that Italian place?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket as they continued towards the exit.

“Are they even open?” she asked, chuckling as she lifted her gaze from the concrete to see a group of young girls waiting outside of the parking garage. Her heart began to race as they began laughing and turning to talk to one another. “Nico,” she let out barely above a whisper. He lifted his gaze, looking towards her first. He saw that her gaze was lingering on the group of young girls ahead of them.

“Shit, okay,” he mumbled, shoving his phone back into his pocket. They reached the exit, the young girls awkwardly formed into a line.

“Hi Nico! Great game, can we get a photo?” the young blonde asked. 

“Can you sign my jersey?” another one asked. 

The young red haired girl on the end met Y/N’s gaze, smiling towards her. Y/N returned the smile, slowly pulling her hand from Nico’s. She cautiously slipped her hand back into her jacket pocket. 

“Of course, how are you guys doing?” Nico asked, putting on a wide grin. He began posing for pictures with the young girls. 

“We’re doing so good,” the blonde said as she stared excitedly towards Nico. 

Nico looked towards Y/N, a small grin instantly forming to his lips. “My love-” he paused, “Y/N, can you take a group photo of all of us?” he said pointing towards the girls. 

“Absolutely,” she said excitedly as the red haired girl handed Y/N the phone. Y/N took several photos, probably one too many but she was sure the girls wouldn’t mind. 

After the group photo, Nico pulled the marker he keeps in his pocket out and began signing things for the girls. All of them were trying to ignore the fact that Y/N was there, either out of respect or out of jealousy. It was hard to tell at first.

“I’m so sorry, I really know I shouldn’t ask but are you guys together? I mean you were holding hands and he called you love-which is so adorable and I’m rambling I’m sorry,” the red haired girl said, her voice gradually getting quieter. Nico simply chuckled while smiling. 

He looked towards Y/N, noticing the small smile on her lips. He nodded, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a while,” he mumbled. He leaned towards the girls, “She’s really pretty, right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Are you kidding? She’s stunning,” the blonde said with a huge grin on her lips. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she met Nico’s gaze. “Like wow,”

“Oh my god, thank you,” Y/N let out, her eyes filling with tears. She shyly blinked the tears away. She spun around, keeping her gaze onto the concrete. Her hands awkwardly fiddled together.

“No, thank you guys!” the brunette said excitedly as she looked towards Nico and then towards Y/N. “You guys enjoy you’re night, you definitely made ours,” she said, taking a hold of her friends arms to drag them away. “Come on, guys,” she muttered

Nico chuckled as he rolled his eyes, excitedly taking a hold of Y/N’s hand. He raised it towards his face, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand as they began walking towards her apartment once more. 

“Do you think they’ll keep it a secret?” she asked teasingly. He tilted his head back while laughing. 

“I think those photos and the pictures they took of you will be on Twitter in less than five minutes,” he explained as he rocked their hands back and forth.

“They seemed really sweet though,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze towards the concrete in front of them. He hummed as they continued walking together hand in hand. 

They turned the corner towards her apartment building when Jack began to call Nico. He rolled his eyes as he brought the phone to his ear. As he answered the call all he could hear was Jack’s laughter. 

“What?” Nico asked while laughing awkwardly.

“You and Y/N are trending on Twitter!” he let out laughing.

“Damn, already?” Nico barely got out while shaking his head.

[the-lying-heavens]

“Enjoy The Little Things”

[Luke Castellan x Unclaimed!fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: At Camp Half-Blood, being unclaimed feels like being invisible—until Luke Castellan sees you.

Warnings: fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 1.2k words

The sun was setting over Camp Half-Blood, casting a warm, golden glow over the cabins. You were sitting on the steps of the Hermes cabin, watching the campers as they laughed and chatted, finishing up their day’s activities. Despite the chaos, you had found a strange sense of peace at the camp.

“Mind if I join you?”

You looked up to see Luke Castellan standing in front of you, a friendly smile on his face. Luke was well-liked by everyone. You counted him as one of your few friends, but you weren't sure if he considered you the same. If you didn't know that then you weren't sure if he would ever consider you two being more.

You might have just a little crush on the son of Hermes.

“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for him on the steps.

Luke sat down beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Long day?” he asked, glancing at you with a knowing look.

You chuckled softly. “You could say that. Training was tough today.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, a playful grin on his face. “But you’re doing great, you know. I’ve seen you out there.”

His compliment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. “Thanks. I’m just trying to keep up.”

Luke leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “You’re more than keeping up. You’ve got potential. Besides, it’s not all about fighting. Sometimes, you just need to take a break and enjoy the little things.”

You smiled, appreciating his laid-back attitude. “Is that what you’re doing now? Enjoying the little things?”

He nods, grinning.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. It felt easy being around Luke like you didn’t have to worry about proving yourself or fitting in. He had a way of making you feel seen, even when you were just sitting quietly together.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” he said suddenly, “Let’s go for a walk. The woods are really nice this time of day.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the idea of spending more time with Luke was too tempting to resist. “Okay, let’s go.”

The woods surrounding Camp Half-Blood were bathed in the soft glow of twilight as you and Luke strolled along the path. The air was cool and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the distant sound of crickets beginning their evening chorus. Luke led the way, his hands in his pockets, a relaxed smile on his face.

“So, have you gotten used to camp life yet?” he asked, glancing at you.

“I think so,” you replied, “It’s different but in a good way. I never thought I’d feel at home in a place like this, but...”

“But it grows on you,” Luke finished for you. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s kind of like one big, dysfunctional family.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly.”

By the time you reached a small clearing, the sky had turned a deep shade of indigo, stars beginning to twinkle above. You paused, looking up at the sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, your voice soft.

“Yeah,” he agreed, standing beside you and gazing up at the stars. “It really is.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just enjoying the quiet beauty of the night. Then, without thinking, you reached out and took Luke’s hand.

Luke looked down at your hand in his, surprise flickering in his eyes. But then he smiled, gently squeezing your hand in return. “I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too,” you whispered, feeling a sense of peace settle over you.

As you stood there hand in hand, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you had found something special. Something that went beyond being unclaimed or not knowing your place in the world. In Luke, you had found a friend—a true friend who made you feel like you belonged.

The next morning, you woke up feeling lighter than you had in a long time. The memory of the previous night—the stars, the conversation, and the warmth of Luke’s hand in yours—lingered in your mind, filling you with a sense of hope.

As you made your way to the dining pavilion for breakfast, you spotted Luke already seated with a group of campers, laughing and chatting easily. When he saw you, his face lit up with a smile, and he waved you over.

You joined him, and as you sat down, Luke leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I was thinking... maybe we could go for another walk after training today? There’s this spot I found near the creek that I think you’d like.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of spending more time with him. “I’d love that.”

Luke grinned, and for the rest of breakfast, the two of you exchanged little glances and smiles, as if sharing a secret that only the two of you knew.

The day passed quickly, your training sessions filled with a new sense of purpose. You pushed yourself harder, feeling more confident than ever before. And when the day finally ended, you found yourself eagerly waiting for the evening.

True to his word, Luke found you after dinner. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you replied, matching his enthusiasm.

As you walked together through the camp, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you. There was a new closeness, a deeper connection that hadn’t been there before.

That evening by the creek, under the stars, Luke told you stories of the heroes of old, the gods.

You hung on to every word, laughing, and without thinking, you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. Luke didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as the two of you sat in peaceful silence.

In that moment, you knew that whatever happened, you wouldn’t be facing it alone. You had Luke, and he had you. And maybe that was all you really needed.

The days turned into weeks, and as summer stretched on, your bond with Luke only grew stronger. You spent your time training together, exploring the camp, and finding little moments to just be. Luke was your rock, your confidant, and slowly, you realized, your feelings for him growing.

One evening, as you sat together by the lake, watching the sun set in a blaze of orange and pink, Luke turned to you, his expression serious.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice soft. “About what you said once... about feeling unclaimed. I want you to know that, to me, you’re more than that. You’re important. You matter.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Luke...”

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “You don’t need a godly parent to tell you who you are. You’re strong, and brave, and kind. And... you’ve become really important to me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “You’re important to me too, Luke.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your feelings hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Luke leaned in, his eyes searching yours for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The world seemed to stand still, the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his kiss and the feel of his hand in yours...

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he said after pulling away.

You smiled. “Me too."

You two stay there for a while. Watching the sky. Enjoying the little things.

might write a part 2 if I feel silly. And if this does good-

[sturniolosiphone]

Mix Up

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖MDNI, oral, sex club⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

“This is so ridiculous,” I say to Dani, the BDSM club manager. “How is it possible for my partner to just back out at the last second? I’m sorry. I know this isn’t your fault; I am just frustrated,” I say, running my hands over my face. I have been a club member for over a year, and it’s usually so organized. You are given a partner at random with a photo, a list of their kinks, a safe word, etc., and then you can okay that partner.

“Ma’am, I understand your frustration. This is supposed to be a safe space, and I sincerely apologize. Now I know you were prepared to meet with Luke,” she says, scanning my file. “Okay, so you were supposed to be meeting with Luke,” she flicks her eyes up to meet mine.

“Yes, I was prepared to meet Luke,” I sigh, readjusting my corset.

“It looks like we had another partner back out on someone, which is very odd, but maybe you could meet with him tonight instead?” she asks.

“Well, I’m not really prepared to do so,” I start, but I am cut off by the sound of a door closing behind me. I turn and am met with the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on. He’s wearing gray sweatpants with a white T-shirt and a silver chain. He has luscious curly brunette hair, chiseled cheeks, a beard scruff, piercing blue eyes, and great teeth. I have a thing for mouths.

“Is this the girl you were talking about?” he asks, looking between us and grinning.

“Yes,” she smiles brightly. “Y/n Matt, Matt Y/N,” she introduces us. I give him a tight smile, which he returns with a toothy one. Fuck, his teeth are nice. I see Matt’s file on the counter with a picture of the woman he was supposed to meet tonight. Great, she’s white and blonde. My insecurities start to kick in, and I suddenly feel self-conscious and fidget with my hands.

“Matt, I am sure you are a really great guy, but we are not prepared at all,” I ramble, gesturing to both of us. I mean, we don’t know anything about each other. I don’t know your kinks, what you don’t like, we don’t know anything!” I laugh nervously, feeling my face get hot as his eyes rake over my body.

“Slow down,” he chuckles. “You have a point, but I’m always down for just some plain old vanilla sex; I wouldn’t want that pretty little outfit of yours to go to waste.” he winks at me.

“Great!” Dani beams. “It looks like you two are all set!” she says, sliding over the key. Matt reaches for the key and pockets it.

“I’m going just to get some water first. Need anything?” he asks.

“Oh no, I’m good. I’m great, actually,” I say, trying to laugh my nerves away. Matt chuckles and shakes his head.

“You on the pill? Or should I get some condoms?” he says, licking his lips while blatantly staring at my tits.

“Got an IUD up there,” I say, pointing to my stomach and trying to make a joke. “We are so good,” I exclaim, putting my hands on my hips and awkwardly putting my arms down. What is going on with me? I look like an idiot, but he is just so hot, and I can tell he’s enormous by the outline in his sweatpants. Matt lets out a little laugh and proceeds down the hallway. I whip my head over to Dani and see her smirking at me. “So what the fuck was that?!” I whisper yell. “You didn’t even ask me!”

“Yeah, but I could tell by your body language that you want him,” she says. “He’s so hot and always so polite. I would never set you up with an asshole, y/n.” Dani explains. “Now go have fun! I heard he’s huge,” she whispers and winks at me. I start walking down the hallway on trembling legs. I feel sick to my stomach. I don’t think I can do this. Okay, this is fine. I will just go in there and explain that I changed my mind. Or someone broke into my house, and I have to leave—or both. I muster up the strength and open the door, but no one is there. He bailed. Thank god. I turn to leave and am met with Matt's chest. I back up further into our room to give us some space.

“I'm sorry I took so long. Were you trying to leave?” He raises his eyebrow, walks into the room more, and closes the door.

“Look, I don’t think this is a good idea. We don’t have to do this. I know I’m not your type,” I mumble.

“My type?” he questions.

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t look anything like the girl you were supposed to meet with,” I say, feeling defeated. Matt starts laughing, and I can feel myself shrinking. He’s making fun of me. This is funny to him.

“Sweetheart, you don’t know anything about my type. Okay?” he says, licking his lips. “I want you to lay on that couch over there, okay? Matt’s going to take care of you, baby,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. It feels like I am not even in my body, and I don’t know how my legs are moving, but they are. I lay on the couch and watched him take in every part of my body. Feeling self-conscious, I reach for the pillow and cover my body. Matt tuts, pulling me to the edge of the couch, and kneels in between my legs. “I don’t think we are going to need this,” he says, moving the pillow. He spreads my knees apart and makes eye contact with me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before, or else I’d be demanding you every time y/n. So fucking pretty like this,” he coos at me.

“Yeah?” I say, feeling myself soaking my black lace panties. He nods, biting his bottom lip while staring at my pussy.

“I’m going to take these off. Is that okay?” he flicks his eyes to meet mine.

“Yes, Matt,” I practically moan. Matt pulls off my panties with one swift motion and wastes no time by licking a fat stripe up my folds. I gasp in surprise and rock my hips forward.

“God baby, I think you were made for me,” he mumbles against my pussy. Matt swirls his tongue around my clit and moves my legs until they are resting on my shoulders. I reach down and grab a fist full of his hair. God, it’s so soft. “Taste so good,” he groans. I feel his tongue at my entrance, and he begins plunging his tongue deep into my pussy.

“Fuck Matt,” I moan while fucking myself on his tongue. “You’re a greedy boy,” I giggle. He’s eating my pussy like he’s starved. He attaches his lips back to my clit and starts pumping his long slim fingers into me. I feel that familiar pressure begins to build up in my stomach. “Gonna cum” I say, my chest heaving up and down. “Fuck, I’m going to cum, Matt,” I whine. A wave of euphoria washes over my body, and I ride my orgasm out on his face.

“Good girl,” he said, praising me and standing up. I can see his rock-hard cock outlining in his sweatpants. He sits on the couch next to me and takes his shirt off. He puts my head in his lap, running his hands through my hair. I hum in pleasure. “Was that good for you?” he asks, looking down at me.

“That was the best head I’ve ever gotten,” I giggle. “Now, what are we going to do about that?” I say, sitting up and pointing to the tent in his pants.

“Anything you want, baby,” he smirks at me, putting his arms up on the back of the couch. I straddle him and scratch my nails down his chest. He puts his head back and groans, and I watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat. I can’t help but grind my bare pussy against his clothed cock. I feel his hips buck up, and he lifts his head to look at me.

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart,” he husks out. ” He puts his hands on my hips, pushing me down on his cock while jerking his hips up. He leans close to my ear and whispers, “Can I kiss you, y/n?”

“Please,” I beg. He crashes his mouth into mine in a frenzy. Our teeth clash, and our tongues battle. He’s grinding into me and digging his fingers into my hips. I begin biting his bottom lip. I feel his chest shaking against mine and his lips forming a smile. I pull back and gasp. “Are you laughing?” I say, my mouth agape.

“I’m laughing because if you keep biting my lips, I’m going to cum” he chuckles, his cheeks growing red. I giggle at him and remove myself from his lap. He whimpers at the lack of contact. I look down and see a huge wet spot on his sweatpants. He follows my eyes, looks down at his lap, and groans. “Pussy so wet for me, hmm?” he asks. I nod while kneeling in front of him. I tuck my hands in his waistband and pull his sweatpants and briefs down to his ankles. His cock springs out and flops down onto his stomach, and he hisses. He is massive.

“Fuck Matt,” I gasp. I grasp his cock with both of my hands and lick his slit collecting his precum on my tongue. He bucks his hips up, causing me to gag.

“Sorry, didn't mean that,” he chuckles. I swirl my tongue around his pink throbbing tip and see him white-knuckling the pillow beside him. He looks so concentrated on not cumming. I attempt to take his length fully in my mouth and quickly realize it’s not going to fit. Fuck, I’m embarrassed. I am a gagging mess, coughing and drooling around him. “Take as much as you can, baby; relax,” he says while running his hands through my hair. “You’re being so brave for me, sweetheart. I’m so close,” he praises. I take as much of him as I can into my mouth while jerking him off with what I can’t fit in my mouth. “Yes, y/n, just like that. So good for me, baby, so good,” he moans. “Going to fill your throat with my cum, y/n,” he grunts, using all of his power not to fuck my throat. He coats my throat with his cum while babbling. I release his cock with a loud pop and take a seat next to him.

“I have never had that happen before. I’m embarrassed,” I laugh. “You’re so big, Matt, my god,” I say. Matt chuckles and shakes his head, getting embarrassed.

“We will have to work on stretching that little pussy of yours out before we fuck,” he says, turning his head to face me. “We’ll have to get you good and ready.” he grins sheepishly at me. “Should we schedule something up front?” he asks.

“Oh, absolutely,” I laugh.

[lecsainz]

anything with Trevor Zegras I’m begging girl!

˒ ⌕ HOCKEY BOYFRIEND

parings: trevor zegras x hughes!reader

summary: that one where you're jack hughes' twin sister and post about your relationship with trevor on insta.

an: I've been working on this smau for TWO days because tumblr kept deleting everything I wrote when I hit return? I have no idea what was going on.

( last work || go to main masterlist )

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ynhughes I say yes, obviously 🙄

56 comments

trevorzegras fuck , I'm so in love with you.

yourbestie wait WHATS THAT??!??

⤷ ynhughes u already know luv

⤷ yourcollegebestie you didn't tell us, you sneaky!

⤷ ynhughes I did tell you! I called you seconds after we had our first kiss.

⤷ jackhughes WHAT?

⤷ lhughes_06 It's been a while, jack, relax.

⤷ jackhughes how did you know and I didn't??? I'm her twin!

⤷ lhughes_06 I'm the favorite brother 🤩.

⤷ ynhughes actually, it's quinn.

⤷_quinnhughes I KNEW IT.

trevorzegras OMG, you're my girl.

⤷ ynhughes and you're my hockey player.

⤷ jackhughes stop with this sweetness. ynhughes stop being bitter, jack.

jackhughes can’t believe that u aren’t single anymore.

⤷_quinnhughes me too.

⤷ lhughes_06 same.

⤷ ynhughes you guys are jealous 😤

yourcollegebestie your ex liking the post 😅

⤷ yourbestie lol 😂

⤷ ynhughes going to block him now, I forgot about him 🥴

⤷ yourbestie he's going to want to fight trevor.

⤷ yourcollegebestie he's calling the UMICH football team to help.

⤷ yourbestie 'cause no UMICH guy can date you now that you were my exgirlfriend.'

⤷ lhughes_06 that guy was a suck, I warned you.

⤷ ynhughes well, that's why he's an ex.

edwards.73 now it all makes sense why she didn't want to hang out with us anymore, ditching friends and parties for a MAN.

⤷ markestapa what a letdown y/n/n 🤧

⤷ ynhughes he's not just any man, he's MY MAN.

⤷ lhughes_06 what do you mean you guys hang out without me and with my sister?

⤷ lucca.fantilli she's cooler than you.

⤷ lhughes_06 NO SHE AREN’T.

⤷ rutgermcgroarty yes, she is!

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ynhughes weekend at the lake house with the ice boys.

67 comments

rutgermcgroarty jack having more photos than her boyfriend 🤣.

⤷ ynhughes he's the favorite brother of the week.

⤷ lhughes_06 u said that I was.

⤷ ynhughes that was before you ate all of my chocolate stash.

yourbestie and no photos for us to make memes of them?

⤷ ynhughes unfortunately, none.

trevorzegras 7 million smiles, and yours is my favorite.

⤷ ynhughes I love you, ice man 🩵

jackhughes I want a credit for the photo I took.

⤷ ynhughes I want credit for all the non-hockey photos you post then 😙

yourbestie miss you girls 🤧

⤷ yourcollegebestie you should have come too 🥺

⤷ ynhughes let's go out just us next summer 💃💃💃

markestapa you don't post a picture with us.

⤷_quinnhughes we're more important 😎

edwards.73 are you holding a hamster?

⤷ ynhughes yessss, his name was mr. bernard.

⤷ rutgermcgroarty aww, how cute.

⤷ lhughes_06 what an ugly name.

⤷ jackhughes ugly guy is you, not the mr. bernard

⤷ ynhughes and that's why my favorite brother is jack, not you, luke.

⤷ jackhughes thanks sis love you too, y/n/n.

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ynhughes missing hawaii and my boy who's now all about hockey. why did I start dating a hockey player anyway?

82 comments

trevorzegras cause you love me.

yourroommate still can't believe you guys traveled in secret.

jackhughes stop kissing my twin sister.

⤷ trevorzegras sorry, jack, but NO.

_quinnhughes mom sends kisses and asks how's college.

⤷ ynhughes sent a thousand back to her and tell her that college is amazing (I cry every night 😅

yourbestie how is it possible you don't look bad in ANY photo??

⤷ ynhughes LOOK WHO'S TALKING, I've never seen a bad shot of you.

lhughes_06 stop making me feel alone 😭

trevorzegras missing those vacations too

⤷ ynhughes i missing you more 😕

yourcollegebestie stop stalling and let's go out now, we're already late for the party, pretty!

⤷ ynhughes putting on my heels now!

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thehughesgirl at least he plays against my brothers, but that's the least of it.

comments were limited

trevorzegras you are art, you are the stars and the sky, you are everything.

⤷ thehughesgirl I’m so in love with you.

[itsmarsss]

what the fuck? [Reggie Peters x fem!Reader] (Julie & The Phantoms)

(~from the vault~)

You and Reggie have been secretly dating for a while now, and Luke seems to have caught on to that. Who would have taken Luke Patterson for such an observant guy?

Word count: 2,244

Warnings: a few paragraphs of making out I think that’s it

[...]

"What?"

"What a shame your parents don't use their cool-as-hell pool," you pointed out, looking at the sky through your shades.

"Their loss. But you know. There’s kinda no one around," he smirked, a mischievous look in his eyes to accompany whatever implications that came with his comment.

"Huh. That's true. Funny," you kept on, feighing obliviousness.

He flashed that smile that made all the Sunset Curve fangirls melt and swam to you, your faces now inches from each other.

"Hey."

"You’re so stupid," you let out a laugh before closing the space between you, entrailing your arms around his neck before kissing him.

You didn't get to keep on at that for any long before you could hear Reggie's name being called from outside, instinctively making you jerk away from each other. The voice you heard was undoubtedly Luke's.

You all really did have this habit of just randomly showing up at each other’s places.

"Luke?" Reggie yelled back.

"Dude we called you like three times!"

"We're in the pool!"

"Oh sweet!" Luke exclaimed, and you heard the back porch being unlocked. In a few seconds, Luke (and Alex, apparently) were standing above you by the edge of the pool.

"Y/n?" Alex asked, brows furrowed together.

"Hey!"

"Uh why are you here?" Luke asked bluntly.

"Okay rude? I just came by and we decided to go for a swim."

Luke didn't seem to be buying it. "You just came by. For no reason."

"Did you not just do the same thing?"

"She has a point," Alex pointed out.

"Whatever. We’re going in!" With that, Luke took his shirt off in one swift motion, throwing it somewhere behind him on the floor, not caring about where it landed, and jumped into the pool. Alex went for a softer approach, taking his shirt off slowly and putting it on the floor with a safe distance from the pool, so it wouldn't get wet, before stepping in. The difference between them was so loud it was almost comical. 

You smiled to yourself as you watched them interact.

. . .

"Okay, you gotta tell me what’s going on." Luke had cornered you on your way to get changed after a few hours by the pool.

"What do you mean?"

"This was a date right?"

"Uh. This?" You motioned between you and him. "I'm sorry to break it to you, loverboy-"

He rolled his eyes at you. "Stop being funny. You and Reggie dumbass!"

You let out a nervous laugh. "What? No! I just came by! Don't be ridiculous."

"What so you just came by because you were bored or something?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't invite me and Alex because?"

"Oh is that what you're on about, Patterson? Are you sad we didn't invite you to hang out earlier? You and Alex get to hang out just the two of you all the time!"

"Yeah but that's a little different don't you think?"

"Whatever."

"Okay well yes I am a little upset about that but I get it, you know, like I'm not hurt about it."

"So why are you being so annoying about it then?" You questioned, half-joking.

"Why are you wearing Reggie's shirt then?"

"Because I didn’t come here planning on swimming! That's all!"

"Uh-huh. I don’t buy it."

"Well okay." You pushed him aside and walked up to Reggie's guest room, where you'd left your clothes.

. . .

"Bye Reggie!" Alex exclaimed, the last one to bid him goodbye.

Reggie waved in return, smiling.

"Oh wait!" Luke stopped walking, turning back around. "We should do something tomorrow."

"Okay," you agreed.

"Like what?" Alex asked.

"I mean we could go to the movies maybe," Reggie suggested.

You let out a laugh. "Not when I am this broke."

"What? I'll pay."

"For all of us?" Luke inquired, confused.

Reggie went visibly flustered. "No, I don't think I got the money for that."

"We could just go to the beach," Alex offered.

Not a bad idea. "I mean yeah. It’s pretty hot outside."

Luke looked at you with a quirked brow, and you knew it was about you having your arms crossed against your chest because of the night breeze.

You rolled your eyes at him. "You're insufferable you know that? It's hot outside when the sun is out!"

"Fine by me," Reggie shrugged, agreeing.

"Okay. Eight?" Alex asked.

"What? I'm not waking up at eight on a saturday!” You exclaimed in response.

"Why not?"

"That's too early! It’s gotta be at least ten!"

"Oh but that's no fun! We don’t wanna catch the 12AM sun, I don't wanna go home looking like fucking shrimp or something," Luke intervened.

"Fine. But I hate you. You should know that."

He blew you a kiss. "Love you too." 

Alex turned back to you, signaling he wanted to get going. "Okay. Eight AM tomorrow then. Bye Reggie!"

"Bye Reggie!"

"Bye Reggie!"

. . .

"You're really not gonna talk?"

"Ohmygod why are you so persistent about this? I already told you there’s nothing going on!"

"Okay did I miss something?" Right. Alex didn’t know what was going on.

"Well she is hiding something from us And I think it has something to do with Reggie."

"Oh," was all Alex said in return. He looked like he was thinking about something. You didn't ask.

"Well I know there's something and I'm gonna find out what it is."

"Well Sherlock Holmes, be my guest."

"Oh actually can I? Fought with my dad this morning."

"Can’t you go to Alex's?"

"Don’t think Alex wants any more trouble having to do with me."

You frowned in confusion. "They almost catch you together again? I mean if you still want me to pretend to be your-"

"No! I'm just trying to keep things cool. I think uh- I think I'm gonna tell them about it. Soon."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. Just trying to make some money first in case they kick me out."

"They're not gonna kick you out," Luke got himself into the conversation again.

"Can’t really know."

"If they do kick you out, we'll find a way alright?"

Alex grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly, nodding.

You went back to Luke. "Okay. Fine. But you gotta get in through the window cause my mom's at home tonight."

"Can we eat something? I'm starving."

"Yeah yeah okay, when she's asleep."

. . .

"Are you really not gonna tell me?" You and Luke were both sat on the kitchen counter now eating sandwiches, your mom long gone asleep.

This was getting annoying. Since when did Luke Patterson become so observant?

"Oh my fucking god! I forgot how annoying you can be when you want to."

"Please? I can see the way you look at each other!"

"And how do we look at each other?"

"Like you're in love or something!"

"Are you officially going crazy? Are you doing okay?" You put you hand over his forehand, pretending to take his temperature.

"Just tell me!"

"This isn't a slumber party, Patterson, we’re not braiding each other’s hair and talking about boys."

"We could!"

"Tell me about Alex then!"

"Well what do you wanna know?"

It was pretty obvious he'd thought talking about his own boyfriend would maybe get you to admit there was something going on between you and Reggie, or maybe even just that you had a mere crush on him.

Luke went to bed very annoyed at the fact that talking about his own stuff got him nowhere with you on that topic.

. . .

“You sleep in my room, you eat my food, you annoy the fuck out of me and now you want me to paint your nails?”

“I thought you were my best friend!”

“We’re going to the beach! No one at the beach is gonna care if your nails are painted or not!”

“Ugh, fine! But you’ll paint them when we get back?” Luke pleaded, and you rolled your eyes, making sure he saw it. 

“Fine. But you’re annoying.”

“Gotta have something in my favor.”

You were done packing for the beach day pretty soon, getting on your way to meet by Reggie’s place. Alex was already there when you arrived. 

“It’s almost 9!” Alex exclaimed, and Luke walked up to him, draping an arm around his neck, and you knew him enough to know he was trying to distract him from the fact that he'd been late. Poor Alex, someday the three of you would cause him a heart attack.

“Well Y/N here wouldn’t wake up.”

“Fucking liar? He literally bugged me for twenty minutes about painting his nails and ended up with non-painted nails anyway. Why would you willingly date him?”

Alex laughed. “Trust me that’s something I ask myself everyday.” Luke pinched his cheeks, knowing he was joking. 

“You love me.”

"Yeah, yeah," Alex smiled, blushing.

“Could you guys be cheesy somewhere else?” Reggie asked, only having heard the last part of the whole conversation as he was just now walking outside, eyes promptly squinting because of the sunlight. He went inside the house and came back quickly with shades on.

“You’re just mad you’re single.”

“I’m not s- mad. I’m not mad. Just uh- annoyed.”

Alex looked at Reggie weird. Luke looked at you weird. Neither said anything about any of it, nor about the fact that Reggie, with his already very pale skin, was read all around now, from his cheeks to his ears and all the way to his chest, visible underneath the white tank top he was wearing.

Now, Reggie lived right by the beach, so the way there was really just crossing the street.

You settled yourselves down and stayed there, in silence, as you took the view in for a bit. And then obviously enough time passed so that Luke couldn’t take staying still anymore, sunbathing clearly being too calm of an activity, and he dragged you all to the water.

The water, which was stupidly fucking cold, which got all three of you yelling at him for, to which he just laughed in response.

You all stayed in there for a while, not really doing anything but talking and occasionally starting water fights against each other (with an honorable mention to the one game of chicken that was held also), until it was about 11. By then, you were all really hungry, so you decided to just leave.

Reggie’s parent’s were on a trip, leaving the house to yourselves, and you comfortably got to making lunch. Everyone wanted something different, so you just ended up making everything at once, which got you weird combinations like ramen noodles and tomato soup. Who the fuck eats tomato soup for lunch on a summer day anyway?

When you were done, none of you really had the energy to change, just letting your clothes air-dry as you still wore them. It was a really hot day, to be fair, so it didn’t take long. 

The tiredness of the morning at the beach mixed with being full and the summer heat got all of you to act like you'd just ran a marathon, too lazy to do almost anything.

“You guys wanna write something?” Alex asked, and everyone groaned in protest.

“If we can stand,” Luke pointed out. 

“Come on we haven’t written in days!” Alex said, getting up right away. You didn’t feel like it, but he was right, so you reluctantly did so as well.

“Come on you babies.” You called, as if you weren't gathering every ounce of energy you could to even stand. "Where's the bass?" Reggie lazily pointed to the guest room, and you nodded before getting on your way to grab it.

“Dude.” Luke suddenly sat up as soon as you were gone.

“What?” Reggie asked in return.

“She seems pretty comfortable around here huh?"

“What? So do you.”

“Why are you guys making this so hard? Just say you’re into each other and go out!”

“What?”

“You are into her, aren't you?”

“Uh-”

“Here! Okay no drums but I do think you brought the drumsticks?” Alex confirmed with a nod. “That’s good enough.”

. . .

“Well what did you expect you baby?”

It was the day after you went to the beach, and Luke, who had insisted on staying in the water longer than everyone else, had a cold. Like it always happened.

“Not this?”

Alex rolled his eyes at the weak answer, but couldn’t contain a smile. You couldn’t contain one yourself.

“Whatever. Bobby should be back by now, we should go get him.”

“In this state?” Alex questioned, as if not believing him.

“I’m not that terrible!”

Reggie laughed, patting him on the shoulder as he walked past him on his way to sit by you on the couch. “Yeah man sure.”

“I’m offended!” He grabbed Alex by the wrist, forcing him to stand up from the chair by the dining table. “We’re going.”

“But-” You protested, about to suggest calling Bobby instead of going over.

“You can stay,” Luke said, a smirk forming on his face. 

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll be right back! And you two will talk it out!"

"Talk what out you psycho?"

"You know what!"

With that, they left in a second, leaving you and Reggie puzzled, with the house to yourselves for at least a little while.

Well, Luke had left a lot to interpretation, right?

. . .

“What?” You asked in the midst of your laughter. Whenever you made out with him, you felt was this weird feeling of being completely alone, which sometimes had led you to rather unfortunate events in which you forgot his parents would be coming back home, or that the boys were waiting on you for something and you'd had to make up excuses or find some way to hide in some situations, even, but it's not like you would trade it for anything else.

Right now he was staring at you as you tried to kiss him, and you weren’t getting it.

“You’re just pretty.” You were sitting on the couch, your back pressed to the side of it, your faces inches from each other, your bodies flushed against one another. He had both his hands on your jaw and you had yours around his neck, and this was perfect.

You could feel your cheeks burn. It wasn’t fair, you know? The way he knew just how to do that. And how aware he was of it, too! You could see it on his face, he was very clearly proud of himself for having that kind of effect on you. Who would’ve believed you if you told them, Reggie Peters, sweetest guy you knew, had a thing for getting you flustered. “Shut up.”

He smiled that dumb smile of his. “You know, I think we should tell them.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. They seem to be pretty supportive. And insistent," he added.

You laughed at the last part. “I guess. Fine. When?”

He shrugged. “Soon. Today? When they’re back? I don't know, I don't think it has to be a big deal, right?

You thought about it. “Sure.”

He nodded excitedly in approval before leaning in again.

Kissing Reggie was always sweet, no matter what. You could be making out at full speed, like the world was ending, and you would still feel appreciated. When everything had started you'd wondered if things would start to feel different with him- too different.

But after a while, you supposed it was still the same Reggie, after all.

And right now he was very obviously eager. It usually happened when he got excited about something, like a new riff he wrote and was proud of himself for, or some cool clothes he found, or, well, like right now, you supposed because you’d decided to finally tell your friends you were dating. 

You couldn’t keep yourself from commenting about it.

“You’re eager.”

“You’re hot.” You were always taken aback when he said things like that. Sure, Reggie wasn’t just that sweet innocent childish boy everyone insisted on seeing him as, but it was always odd seeing him get like that. In a good way, obviously. 

He resumed to kissing you, his hand descending to your waist, pulling you even closer. Suddenly, your back was pressed against the couch seat, and he was on top of you, but he was really careful as to not press his full weight on you, as he always was.

You were certain this boy would be the death of you.

You laced your hand to the hair on the back of his head, deepening the kiss even more, and he grabbed your other wrist with his own, pinning it right beside your face before intertwining your fingers with his. It was intimate in its own way with him, and it was hot and it was sweet at the same time and your head felt like it was buzzing, unable to think of anything else, really. Then you could feel his hand move down your waist to one of your thighs and he had the nerve to smirk against your lips when you involuntarily let out a sigh and-

“Okay what the fuck ?”

You were startled by Bobby’s voice, immediately jumping away from each other, ending up at opposite ends of the sofa, both panting, not having realized how out of breath you’d been until you pulled away. At the entrance of the living room stood Luke, Alex and Bobby, who, well- apparently had gotten back from his trip- all looking flustered at the scene they’d just witnessed.

Bobby and Alex were looking anywhere but at you, but Luke was wide-eyed, making direct eye contact with you specifically.

“So you were hiding something from me!”

“Huh. Surprise?” Shit, you were never gonna live this one down, were you?

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 11

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley spend the perfect weekend together, but nothing lasts forever, and the bubble you had been in with him bursts when monday morning comes around.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 7k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

When Bradley finally managed to get his mind and body (and his cock) under control, he drove you back to campus. He was going to beg you to stay the night at his place, but he didn’t need to because as soon as he parked, you were grabbing your bag and hopping out of the Jeep, waiting by the door so he could unlock it. 

That was how he found himself frantically shoving the key into the lock and pulling you up to his room at one in the morning on a Sunday. His lips were locked on yours as he walked you backwards into his room, and when you nearly tripped on his school bag, his grip on your lower back tightened as he steadied you. “God, you’re a mess,” he grunted against your lips. “Is it because I fucked you? Because that happened a few hours ago, babes.”

You groaned and gripped his jaw more firmly. “Shut up,” 

He laughed before guiding you further into his room. “It’s late, but I don’t want to go to bed yet,” he mumbled, reluctantly pulling away from your mouth. “Shower with me before we go to sleep? You are staying the night, right?” He couldn’t control the way his question came out sounding a bit desperate, but the grin on your face told him that you didn’t care. 

“You mean what’s left of it?” You tease and push him towards the bathroom. “Yes, I’m staying the night, if that’s okay with you, Fratley.”

Bradley bit his lip and nodded, his hands reaching up to pull on the strings of your bikini top you hastily threw back on after you and he finally left the backseat of his car. “It’s more than okay with me,” 

You grin up at him and let him pull off your bottoms as well, leaving you completely bare in front of him once again. He groaned, pulling you close to him and peppering kisses along your neck while you pushed down his swimming trunks. 

God, he was obsessed with you. He had a feeling he already was before, but now it’s worse. Way worse. 

You were perfect, absolutely perfect for him, inside and out. He couldn’t believe Luke thought poorly about you in bed. What the fuck was wrong with him? You were unlike anything or anyone Bradley had ever touched in his life, and you were so responsive to him, he was having a hard time detaching himself from you right now. 

When he finally got you into the shower, he let you drag your hands all over his body in a half-assed attempt to wash him and rid him of the sand. He feebly tried to return the actions, but then your hand traveled further down his body to his semi hard-on, and he bit back a groan. 

Within seconds he was fully hard again, and he tipped his head back when you began placing kisses on his neck. Your tongue poked out to lick along the beads of water that dripped down his skin, then your kisses trailed down his chest until you were on your knees on the hard tile of the shower floor. “Baby,” he rasped, looking down at you. 

You looked like something straight out of a fantasy, your neck scattered with the marks he left on you in the car, your eyes hooded and your lashes and hair wet. Fuck, he was helpless in your hold as you gave his cock a firm squeeze. “Can I?” You asked sweetly, running your thumb over his tip as you waited for his answer.  

“Fuck,” he grunted, reaching down to push your hair away from your forehead. “I’d be out of my fucking mind to say no to you.” 

You grinned and a blush formed on your face before you leaned in and wrapped your pretty lips around just his tip. Your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and your hand gripped his base, giving him a slow stroke as you let your eyes fall shut. 

“Holy fuck,” Bradley groaned, sliding his hand into your hair as he watched your every move. Your mouth opened a bit as you took more of him and began slowly sucking him off, and he was done for. Your mouth felt nearly as good as your body did, and he was in disbelief that you wanted to get him off twice tonight. It was as if you were as insatiable as he is. How perfect could you be? 

When you opened your eyes and looked up at him through your lashes, Bradley nearly came right then and there. “Is this okay?” You asked when you pulled your mouth away but continued to stroke him. 

He wanted to laugh, but the only sounds he could make were deep groans, because even though your hand was much smaller than his, it felt about ten times better. “More than okay,” he grunted, unable to stop himself from moving his hand to the back of your head. “Keep going, babes.”

You grinned and took him back into your mouth, and the harsh suck you gave his tip had his knees buckling as he tipped his head back.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand instinctively tightening in your hair. “That’s it, baby. Feels so good.” 

You moaned at his praise and the vibrations had his knees feeling weak again, making him lean back against the tiled wall for some sort of stability. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” he muttered but he wasn’t really embarrassed. 

He was surprised he held off for so long back in the Jeep, with your tightness wrapped around him in a way that felt nearly suffocating but in the best way. There was no way he was lasting long this time around. 

Bradley looked back down at you and saw your eyes were closed again as you sucked him off, and he reached down with the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair and gently gripped your jaw. “Look at me,” he softly demanded, wanting to see your pretty eyes as you worked him to that same sweet relief you gave him earlier. 

Your eyes slowly opened and you looked up at him with his cock stuffed all the way in your mouth, and he was sure he had never seen a hotter or prettier sight in his life. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he huffed out, caressing your jaw with his thumb as you moaned around him again. His head fell back against the wall as you stilled your head and allowed him to gently thrust into your mouth. “Fuck yeah.”

The way your throat closed around him had him spiraling, and he couldn’t take much more. You felt too good everywhere, he wasn’t sure how he was ever supposed to last long with you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, “Where…where-”

“In my mouth,” you answered, pulling off him briefly. “I want to taste you.”

Then you were taking him back into your sweet, tight mouth, and he was done for. He let out a deep groan, his fingers buried in your soaked hair as he came hard down your throat. “Fuck,” he grunted, the way you eagerly continued to suck him prolonging his high. 

When you slowly pulled off him, he helped you up and quickly pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. A groan escapes his mouth as he tastes the remnants of himself on your tongue, and he grips your face a bit firmer as he pulls your body right up against his. “Was that okay?” You asked a bit breathlessly.

Your lips were puffy and swollen, and your eyes were tired but sated, and you looked fucking stunning as you asked him the most obvious question he’d ever heard in his life. “Okay? Baby, that was fucking amazing,” he answered, kissing you again afterwards. “Best head I’ve ever had.”

You blushed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure it was,”

Bradley, guided your gaze back to his, making sure you were looking at him as he sternly asked you, “You think I’d just say that if I didn’t mean it?” 

You bit your lip as you shook your head. “Well, no…”

“If you’re still convinced that Luke was right about you not being satisfying during sex, I can confidently tell you that he was dead wrong,” he mumbled, tracing your puffy bottom lip with his thumb. “Back in the car? I’ve never felt that good, and right here? That’s a close second behind.”

Another deep blush took over your face as Bradley leaned in and kissed your forehead, and you melted against his chest. 

“So please, don’t think about what he told you anymore, okay? Because he was so wrong, about all of it,” he finished with a soft kiss to your jaw and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as the water slowly started to turn cold. 

Half an hour later, you were wearing Bradley’s football jersey and a pair of his boxers as you bounced around his kitchen while he looked for something you could eat, his own body only covered by a pair of sweats. You were snacking on a box of crackers and slapped his butt every time you passed him, and he wondered if this was what married life was like. If it was, he couldn’t wait for that time in his life where he settled down and got a taste of that domestic shit. 

When you rounded the table again, Bradley stopped you with a hand on your waist. “Okay, how the fuck do you have this much energy?” He asked as you grinned up at him, cracker box in hand. He glanced at the clock on the stove before adding, “Seriously, it’s like, almost three in the morning.”

You shrugged and held a cracker up to his lips. “That shower blowjob and praise I got after really put me in a good mood,” you answered as you escaped his grasp and began moving around the kitchen once again. 

Ten minutes later, you were on his lap on the couch as he fed you a sandwich with one hand and used the other to finish off the cracker box. It was so late, but he didn’t want this to end. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this content in his life, and he was quickly beginning to realize that Briana was right.

He put hardly any effort into his relationship with her, because she never made him feel like this. Those eleven months he spent with her felt a bit pointless to him now, because really, all he got out of it was sex. He knew as much about her at the end that he did at the beginning, and he never wanted to show her off or do all the normal couple shit, but something had completely switched inside of him, and he knew it was all because of you. 

He wanted to be better for you, and he felt like he was on the right track, if the way you and he couldn’t stop touching each other was anything to go by. 

“I never want this day to end,” you mumble as you cuddle up on his chest once you are finished with the sandwich and let him eat the crust. “It’s been so perfect.”

Bradley hummed in agreement. “Technically, the day ended a few hours ago,” he pointed out as he set the box down on the cushion next to him. “But you’re right. It’s been absolutely perfect.”

You grin down at him and shake your head before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, one that had him tightening his hold on you. He’s kissed you about fifty times since he picked you up yesterday morning, yet each one felt better than the last somehow. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of you or the feeling of your lips on his. 

Just as he shifted to deepen the kiss, the front door swung open and hit the wall next to it loudly, making you jump slightly on his lap and pull away from his mouth. “Fuck,” you laughed quietly as you covered your mouth, and Bradley ran his hands down your back once he felt the fast beating of your heart from the sudden noise. 

He turned his head and glared at whoever decided to make that loud of an entrance at three in the morning, and he wasn’t surprised to see that it was Eli. “Jesus, could you be any louder?” He muttered and Eli gave him a sly smirk, and it was obvious that he was wasted. 

Bradley almost wished he didn’t even say anything, because it looked like Eli was going to go straight up to his room without noticing you and him on the couch, but his whole demeanor shifted once he heard Bradley’s voice. “Bradshaw,” he beamed, stumbling his way into the living room and leaving the front door wide open. “Fuck, man. I haven’t seen you all day, dude. Where the hell have you been?”

Bradley rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch as his fingers played with the hem of his shirt you were wearing. “I was out,” was all he said and Eli laughed as he rubbed at his eyes. 

He squinted, trying to see past Bradley’s head in the dark living room. “Who is that? Is that…is that Bri? No, is that…” he trailed off as he snapped his fingers obnoxiously. “Y/n. That’s it. Is that Y/n?”

Bradley groaned quietly and closed his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah, it’s her,”

Eli grinned, stepping further into the room. “Hey, Y/n,” he said with a deep laugh. “I’ve heard a lot about you. A lot. You’ve got our boy wrapped around your finger, huh?”

You laughed uncomfortably, and Bradley gave you an apologetic look. “Um, I wouldn’t say that,” 

Eli waved off your words and moved to sit next to Bradley, his body falling onto the couch with a dramatic huff. “I would. You guys are so cute,” he nudged Bradley’s side and smirked at the glare he received. “Things have really worked out for you, huh, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s heart fell a bit at his words, and he knew if he stayed long enough, Eli would bring up the bullshit bet Bradley made when he was drunk and mourning his failed relationship with Bri.

None of that mattered anymore. He wasn’t with you to get back at his ex, that was fucking stupid. He was with you because he was pretty sure he could picture himself going all the way with you, but Eli would never understand that. 

That didn’t mean he got to ruin what Bradley was building with you. No way in hell was that going to happen. 

Bradley gently guided you off his lap and stood up, pulling you up with him as he held his glare at Eli. “Yeah, I’m really lucky,” he muttered and tugged you against his side, your bare legs not hiding your skin from Eli’s pervy gaze at all. “It’s late. We’re gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same, you’re drunk off your ass.”

Eli shrugged, reaching for the box of crackers and pouring the crumbs into his mouth straight from the bag.  “I’m perfectly fine, Brad,”

Bradley rolled his eyes again and guided you out of the living room, passing by the front door to close it and lock it. “Now I see why you leave it unlocked,” you teased quietly as you pressed your side closer to his. He huffed out a laugh and glanced back at his roommate before leading you upstairs and into his room. “You weren’t kidding, no one calls you by your actual name.” 

He shook his head as he locked his bedroom door behind him. “Told you,” he mumbled as he rubbed his face harshly, forcing himself to not get worked up over Eli’s interruption. Fuck, that guy was irritating sometimes, and Bradley hoped that his sudden appearance didn’t ruin your night like it nearly did for him. 

“Hey,” you called softly when he kept his back to you. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

Bradley turned to face you, and the confused expression on your face had his shoulders falling and Eli slipping further into the back of his mind. “Hey, no,” he said, reaching for your waist, and you willingly let yourself be pulled into his arms. “Nothing. You did nothing wrong, babes.” 

You pouted up at him and he pulled you a bit closer. “Then what’s wrong? Is it the whole ‘Brad/Bradshaw’ thing?” 

Bradley’s lips curved upwards and he shook his head. “No, it’s not that,” he answered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I honestly don’t give a shit about that anymore. If you’re the only person who calls me Bradley, then that’s fine with me. I just…he didn’t ruin tonight for you, did he? I know he’s got a big mouth and he’s honestly fucking annoying, but I-”

You cut him off with a chaste kiss to his mouth that left his mind blanking a bit as he looked down at you. “Bradley,” you laughed and somehow he felt his mood lifting tremendously from just that sound. “I don’t care about your loud and slightly obnoxious roommate. I’ve told you, I don’t really like them after they gave you these.”

Your index fingers ran along his scars as you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Bradley’s shoulders relaxed even more as he played with the end of his jersey that hung loosely on your body. 

“That guy down there couldn’t ruin tonight if he tried,” you promised, standing up as tall as you could but still not being able to reach his forehead, so you gripped the sides of his face and pulled him down a bit until you could look him in the eye. “My night’s been perfect. Yesterday was perfect, and you’re perfect, okay? So please, don’t let him get to you. Not now, okay? Please?”

Bradley closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours as he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed under his breath, sliding his hands up his jersey and placing his palms flat against your back. “You’re right. Tonight’s been more than perfect. And you’re pretty fucking perfect, too.”

You grinned and kissed him quickly. “So don’t worry about him,” you said against his lips. “Just be here. With me.” 

He wasn’t sure if you were beginning to catch onto the fact that he lowkey has some anger issues, but you haven’t brought it up, and he appreciated that more than you probably knew. It was true, Bradley got angry kind of easily, and he snaps more often than not, especially when it comes to idiots like Wes and Eli, but he’s never felt calmer with you. 

You anchored him and made him happy, so he was never angry or pissed off with you. He would tell you when the time was right, and that time was not now, because his anger was quickly dissolving the longer his mouth stayed connected to yours. 

“I’m with you,” he whispered against your lips as he reached down and guided your legs around his waist. He moved towards his bed and lowered you down onto it, his body settling gently on top of yours as he wrapped his arms around your middle. “I’m here.”

You smiled against his lips and pulled him impossibly closer to you as the night went on and you fell asleep in each other’s arms on top of the covers. 

The next day, you and Bradley didn’t wake up until well into the afternoon, the busy day and night you had taking a toll on both your bodies. 

“I need to go home soon,” you mumbled against his lips as he held you in his arms, the movie playing on his laptop long since forgotten. It was forgotten pretty much the second he put it on, really. 

“No,” was all Bradley said as he kissed you again, making your laugh echo around his room. 

“Yes,” you said back, giving him one more kiss before gripping his chin and holding his head in place as you pulled away. He had a feeling it would always have to be you who pulls away first, because he never wanted to stop kissing you. “I have a big test tomorrow. I need to study.” 

Bradley tried leaning in again, but you just tighten your grip on his chin, making him laugh quietly. “I can help you study,” he suggested and dropped his gaze to your lips, and you groaned, shaking your head. 

“God, Bradley, your morning voice,” you whined and he laughed again because even though the morning had long since passed, his voice was still groggy and deep because he literally only woke up half an hour ago. “And you and I both know your definition of studying is a lot different from mine.”

He pouted, hoping that you’ll change your mind and stay with him, but the poorly-formed look of determination you gave him told him that you were serious. “Fine, fine,” he mumbled, laying his head on your chest as he looked over at the screen of his laptop. “At least finish the movie? Then you can go?”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, your hands smoothing out his messy bed hair. “Sure,”

Nearly an hour later, the end credits rolled and you moved to get up from his bed. “You sure I can’t convince you to stay longer?” Bradley asked as he sat up against his headboard and watched you pull on your shorts from yesterday. 

“No, I know you can,” you answered as you turned to face him. “Which is why I’m leaving now, so I actually get some studying in before tomorrow.” 

Bradley smirked and let his eyes shamelessly rake down your legs as he folded his arms behind his head. “Good to know that I have such a strong effect on you,” 

You rolled your eyes and reached for your bag and shoes before kneeling on the bed and leaning in for a kiss. As soon as your lips touched his, Bradley reached out with one hand and deepened the kiss until you were breathless and close to caving and staying with him after all. “I’m leaving,” you state, standing back up. “Right now.”

Bradley laughed. “Bye, babes. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and watched as you tucked the front of his jersey into your shorts. 

“I’ll give it back,” you said when you caught his gaze and he shrugged. 

“I don’t care. You can wear and take whatever you want from my closet,” 

You tilted your head with a mischievous grin on your face. “Good to know,” you hummed before slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Bye, flyboy. See you tomorrow.” 

Bradley watched as you unlocked and pulled open his bedroom door before blowing him a final kiss and leaving. He blew out a puff of air as he felt like he was finally coming down from the high he’s been feeling since early yesterday morning. He reached beside him and closed his laptop then rubbed his eyes, not knowing what to do now that you were gone. 

He could also try and get some studying in, but he had nothing really to study for. He could clean his room, but then the smell of your conditioner and perfume would fade away and be replaced by the strong scent of disinfectant spray, so he was at a loss.

Only a few minutes had passed since you left when Eli poked his head into Bradley’s room and glanced around. “Is The Bet still here?” He asked as he stepped into the room, and Wes quickly walked in after. 

Bradley’s brows furrowed and he quickly sat up straight. “The what?” He asked, ignoring Wes as he stared at Eli. “What the fuck did you call her?”

“The Bet,” Eli said again as he stepped towards the edge of the bed. “You know, ‘cause she’s a bet.”

Wes nodded in agreement as he walked over to the bulletin board and started looking at everything Bradley had pinned on it, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed by his friend’s nosiness as he glared at Eli. “She’s not a bet, Eli,” he grunted and kicked off the sheets as he crossed his arms. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Are you forgetting about the bet you made? Dude, how pussy-whipped are you to forget something like that?” Wes laughed as he looked at the botanical gardens ticket stuck on the board. 

Bradley, who was quickly getting annoyed, stood up and crossed his arms. He was taller than both Eli and Wes, so he stepped towards them to feel some sort of power in this situation, because they were right. Bradley did make a bet that he could get you to fall in love with him to prove just how easy you are, but it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that for a second. He called the bet off as soon as he came up with it, but his stupid friends would never believe that, and honestly, he had no way to prove it.

“Yeah, I made a dumb bet, but it’s not happening anymore,” Bradley said and felt his anger rise at the eye roll he received from Eli. “I’m serious. Every single second I’ve spent with her has been genuine. Real. I don’t expect either of you to understand that.”

“Hey,” Wes turns his head and glares at him, finally leaving the bulletin board alone. “I’ve had plenty of girlfriends.”

“No,” Bradley muttered, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “You’ve fucked plenty of girls. That’s not the same.”

“Look who’s the expert now,” Eli drawls and steps towards Bradley. “Just because Bri dumped your ass and you found comfort in a rebound doesn’t mean you know anything about relationships, Bradshaw.”

Bradley exhaled harshly through his nose as he glared down at Eli. “She’s not a rebound,” he nearly growled, his words steady and firm, showing just how true they are. “Stop calling her things that she’s not.” 

Eli, never one to take the free out and back down, laughs cruelly. “I get it now,” he hums, reaching up to pat Bradley’s shoulders. “You’re feeling guilty and trying to convince yourself that you’re not a bad guy for using her. I get it, man. You do whatever you need to and say whatever will help ease your mind. Wes and I won’t judge you for it.” 

Bradley felt his fist twitch and he wanted nothing more than to punch the smug smile right off Eli’s face, but what good would that do? Instead, he took a shaky breath and placed his hand on Eli’s chest, shoving him a few feet away. “Get out,” he said and crossed his arms again as he looked between the two guys. “I have shit I need to do, and you don’t need to be here for it.” 

Wes raised his hands and laughed before leaving the room, but Eli hovered near the door for a few more seconds before smirking and leaving as well. Bradley nearly slammed the door behind them and locked it, his whole body shaking as he tried to calm himself down. 

He needed to think of something, anything else, but his head kept repeating Eli’s harsh but truthful words, and Bradley felt the need to bury is fist in the nearest wall. 

His eyes flickered around the room before they landed on the ticket pinned to the board, and he focused his attention solely on the thick piece of paper as he reached for his phone. You left not too long ago, you would probably think he was one of those clingy boyfriend’s for calling you so soon, but you were the only person that could calm him down right now. “Bradley,” you answered after only one ring. “Hi, what’s- oh fuck, did I forget something? Is this your way of getting me to come back?”

Bradley huffed and shook his head, knowing damn well you couldn’t see him do it as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “No, just…” he trailed off before rubbing at his forehead. “Tell me something, anything. Just…just talk to me, baby.”

You were quiet for only a second before you spoke again. “Um, my favorite color is mint, but you already knew that. Uh…I really really hate the taste of cough drops, it actually makes me feel sicker than I did before,” you rambled and Bradley felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards. “And I really like the film The Crow.”

Bradley’s smile grew as he hummed, more than grateful that you didn’t question his odd request and instead instantly did what he asked. “Me too. Keep going, babes,”

“I like sleeping with my window open in the winter because I can’t go to sleep hot. Dr. Pepper tastes really bad and I don’t know how people willingly drink it,” you continued and Bradley leaned back on his bed, feeling his heated skin begin to cool off. “I can’t look after plants if you paid me, I’ve killed every single one I’ve had in the past. And…I like you, a lot.”

A sigh left Bradley’s lips as he closed his eyes and let his body relax. “Thank you,” he breathed out, settling back against his bed. “I like you a lot, too.”

He could practically hear your smile through the phone. “Is everything okay? Or is my rambling a new kink you’re trying out?” 

Bradley laughed quietly as he listened to your sweet voice, already feeling his bad mood disappear the longer he had you on the phone. “No, I just needed to hear your voice,”

After that, Bradley was feeling a lot calmer, and he was glad he was beginning to get better at controlling his anger. Usually, that whole conversation with Eli would’ve ended with a bloody fist or two, and he never felt better afterwards. He was happy that was slowly changing. 

The day went on and soon enough it was almost midnight. Bradley was getting ready for bed when he heard his phone go off, and he quickly grabbed it from where he set it down to charge on his nightstand, thinking it was you. 

It was not. 

Briana: Brad I miss u. Come pick me up?

Bradley scoffed and shook his head, wondering why he had yet to block her number after the stunt she pulled the last time she texted him.

He was about to hit the red button when another text came through, and this one had him hesitating. 

Briana: Pleaseeeee? I think I had too much to drink and I’m sooo tired. These guys aren’t as hot as u are.

Bradley read the message twice and was about to type something back when the screen changed to show that he had an incoming call. He grunted and accepted the call before bringing the phone up to his ear. “Brad, why are you ignoring me? I can see that you’re reading my texts,” Briana’s slurred voice came through the speaker and Bradley could hear loud music in the background. 

“I’m not ignoring you,” he muttered, straightening out his sheets on his unmade bed that still smelled like your perfume. “Why is it so loud? I can barely hear you.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t pick the music,” she scoffed and Bradley rolled his eyes, less than three seconds away from hanging up on her. “This party sucks and the beer tastes weird and I can’t find my bag. And this fucking guy keeps looking at me and smirking like a total fucking asshole.” She raised her voice on that last word as if she was talking to the guy instead of Bradley, and his brows furrowed. 

“What party?” He asked, feeling his eyes narrow in slight worry at the slur in his ex’s voice. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know, one across town. I got invited to it, unlike you because you’re too fucking busy with that girl,” she muttered and the jealousy in her voice was clear. It would’ve made him happy to hear her sound so jealous a few weeks ago, but he really didn’t feel anything with her anymore. Not when he had you. 

Still, he felt his worry grow a bit as he heard the muffled voice of a man on the other end of the call. “Briana, where is this party?” He asked again, her exact location still unclear. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she said loudly. “This fucking guy won’t stop staring at me. He’s so fucking annoying, Brad. And this beer tastes awful, what the fuck brand is this?”

She was drunk off her ass and possibly drugged, and even though she was no longer his problem or responsibility, he still didn’t want anything bad to happen to her or for her to be taken advantage of, which is what it sounded like might be happening. 

“Stop drinking it,” he said quickly, looking around his room for something to throw over his bare chest. “It’s probably laced with something. Pour it out, okay? Don’t drink anymore of it.”

Briana muttered something and all he could hear was the loud rap music for a few seconds before her voice came through again. “That was such a waste, Brad, I can’t believe you made me do that,”

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled on a hoodie he had thrown over the back of his desk chair. “You’ll get over it,” he grunted and grabbed his keys. “Send me your location, okay? I’m gonna come pick you up.” 

“I can’t find my bag, Brad,” she whined and Bradley cringed at her high pitched voice. 

“It doesn’t matter right now, okay? Just send me your location,”

After a few more minutes of back and forth, Briana finally sent him the address to a campus across town, and he got into his Jeep to start the twenty minute drive there. It was past midnight now, and he wouldn’t be home until well after one. He would be exhausted in class, but it didn’t really matter much to him. 

He couldn’t stand those scumbags who put pills or other things in drinks to get others to loosen up enough to the point of not caring what happens to them. While he no longer felt anything towards Briana, he still couldn’t sit back and let something like that happen to her. The guilt would be way too much. 

At twelve thirty, Bradley pulled up to an unkept frat house, and he groaned when he saw all the drunk party goers scattered around the front yard. He was about to get out in his sweats and hoodie to go find Briana, but she stumbled out the front door and made her way towards the Jeep, and Bradley saw an older guy following behind her. The guy stopped when he saw the car, then quickly turned around and went back inside when Bradley glared at him. 

“Brad!” Briana greeted happily as she pulled open the passenger side door. “You came. I knew you would. I always make you come.” She winked over at him and leaned in with her lips pursed, but Bradley quickly moved back. 

“Did you find your bag?” He asked as he looked her over, making sure she was fine and unharmed. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was flushed, but she seemed relatively okay. She was just completely wasted. 

“Nope,” she grinned. “I don’t know where it went. It has my keys in it, Brad. How will I get into my dorm without them?”

Bradley closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. “Fuck, Briana, what are you even doing here?”

Briana shrugged and bit her lip as she looked him up and down, clearly still finding him very fuckable as she practically undressed him with her eyes. “You know I love a good party, babe,” she purred and reached for his thigh.

His hand wrapped around her wrist and guided it onto her own lap as he groaned again and started the car. “You can stay at my place tonight, okay? Then in the morning you can figure out what to do about your bag,” he mumbled and pulled away from the curb. “But hear me when I say that nothing is happening between you and I, alright? So please, keep your hands to yourself.”

Briana pouted at him and leaned back against the seat, her fingers pulling up her skirt to show off more of her thighs. “But-”

“No,” he sharply cut her off. “We’ve got a twenty minute drive back to campus, and I want silence the whole time, okay?”

She opened her mouth to complain again but closed it once she met Bradley’s harsh gaze. She scoffed and crossed her arms, turning to look out the window for the majority of the drive. 

Once he got back to his place, Briana was a groggy mess and unable to walk on her own. Bradley carried most of her weight as he guided her inside, and he just wanted to go to sleep at this point. 

He felt guilty for helping his ex like this, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. Bradley was completely done with Briana and there wasn’t a single part of him that felt anything towards her, but he would never willingly let something happen to her when he knew he could’ve prevented it. 

Once they got through the front door, Briana let go of him and practically crawled up the stairs before Bradley could get her to the couch. “Briana,” he started but she was already throwing herself onto his bed and burying her face in his pillow. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to sleep,” she stated as she kicked off her shoes and reached for the hem of her skirt. “Are you joining me?” She asked with a smirk and Bradley rubbed his eyes as he shook his head. 

“No,” he answered instantly as he turned around. “In the morning, I need you to get up and go, okay? You can’t do this, and you know that. I have a girlfriend, Briana.”

She scoffed again. “Whatever, Brad,” she muttered. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Bradley, too tired to even entertain her right now, just shook his head again and left the room to go sleep on the couch. He had every intention of telling you about this, because he trusted you more than anyone at this point, and he wanted you to trust him, too. He knew you would understand, you were too sweet and caring for your own good. Nothing happened, he knew that, and you would know that, too. 

The next morning, Bradley had an hour before he needed to start getting ready for class, so he made his way upstairs and stretched his arms, his body a bit sore from sleeping on the couch. He didn’t get to charge his phone much last night before he had to go get Briana, and he discovered that it was dead when he tried to turn it on. 

He groaned and shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie as he walked up the last few steps. When he entered his room, Briana was still fast asleep on his bed, and he rolled his eyes as he grabbed a pair of jeans. He knew the sheets would smell like booze and cigarettes now instead of you, and that kind of pissed him off a bit. 

“Hey,” he said, loud enough for her to stir awake. “You need to get up now. I need to get ready for class.” Was all he added before he walked into his bathroom, missing the way she scoffed and lifted her shirt over her head, throwing it at the now closed door. 

-

Bradley hadn’t answered your text that invited him to get breakfast with you before class, and since he was just across campus from you, you decided to surprise him. 

In a way, it was you thanking him for such an amazing weekend and for being the perfect boyfriend you never knew you could have. 

You opened his unlocked door and smiled to yourself, your eyes glancing into the living room and seeing an unfolded blanket on the couch as you made your way upstairs. 

When you got to the top and entered the hallway, you noticed that his bedroom door was open just a crack, and your smile grew as you knew he was awake now. Without a second thought, you push open the door and hold up the takeout bag in one hand and his jersey in the other, but your smile fades almost as soon as you step through the frame. 

A blonde haired girl was sprawled out on his messy bed, her chest bare and her lower half only covered by a thin pair of panties. Your arms fell back down to your sides as you stared at the girl, who hadn’t noticed you yet as she scrolled through her phone. She looked familiar, you’ve definitely seen her before, you just couldn’t remember where. 

Your mouth was dry and your eyes burned as you felt your whole body heat up. Tears blurred your vision as you processed what exactly you were looking at. 

A near-naked girl in your boyfriend’s bed, and he was nowhere to be seen. 

An overwhelming feeling of betrayal settled in your bones as you faced the reality that the perfect guy you spent your weekend with wasn’t so perfect after all. He cheated on you. He lied. 

Before you could get a word out, the bathroom door opened and Bradley’s voice pierced through the silence. “Briana, you better be-”

Your quiet gasp cut him off, and when he looked over at you and met your gaze, you could see the panic in his brown orbs. He was caught. “Briana?” You echoed as a humorless laugh escaped your lips, and without saying another word, you turned on your heel and fled the frat house you had become so comfortable in with Bradley right behind you.

-

ooh, look, a whole part that was almost entirely Bradley’s pov...

[lumosinlove]

Here is my first day of O'Knutzy Week! @oknutzy-week-2024

I ADORE you all for treating these characters of mine to a week of fun. I can't even put into words how much it means to me. I'm so looking forward to reading your creations!

Please enjoy tennis boys...

(There is an extremely brief and not at all graphic description of injury in the beginning.)

Finn O’Hara’s career was ended too soon by a bad knee injury. Logan Tremblay has no coach and a wicked temper that’s hard to control on the court—that is, until O’Hara steps into the picture.

On The Line - Part One

Logan was on a massage table when he saw. He’d been feeling a little stupid. He had been meant to be watching Finn’s game, studying his flaws and his strengths. Instead his cheek was pressed to the towel beneath him while someone dug their knuckles into his calf, and he was watching a bead of sweat find the corner of Finn’s mouth in a close up shot.

“This feel all right?” Hands were on his ankle now.

No, Logan thought, eyes on Finn. This feels like I’m going insane.

“Yes,” Logan said faintly. “Merci.”

Finn had his usual blue Nike hat on, and when he took it off before he served to wipe his face, Logan could see the white, salty sweat stains inside. How long had he had that hat? Logan remembered seeing it in Juniors. How many brand deals had its necessity written into it? Client insists upon…

Logan wanted that hat. He wanted to hold it.

Finn served. A perfect bullet of a thing that sent goosebumps up Logan’s shoulders, but Lupin still returned. It was second set, Finn had won the first. He was set to win this one, too.

Logan’s hotel room door opened and Logan didn’t look up. People came and went every hour of every day. This time, it was, Luke, his closest friend on tour besides Finn, and a room service cart of grilled chicken and broccoli. Logan eyed the chocolate cake slice there, too. One benefit of not having a coach or any sort of team following him around like the others did. He could eat whatever he wanted.

Luke leaned over to see his eyes. “Pascal Dumais is in the lobby. Black’s coach? I was thinking—”

“Non.” Finn was sitting in his chair now, drinking water. He turned and said something to the young ball kid holding an umbrella over him. Logan bit back a smile watching the ball kid do the same. Finn let his own grin cross his face.

Stop it, Logan thought. Stopitstopitstopit.

“He might know someone who you’d like to work with.”

“Non.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Logan.”

“I don’t want a coach, Luke.” Logan tore his eyes away from Finn. “I’ve told you this one thousand times.”

Black served, and Finn returned, letting out a soft sound while doing it. Stop it. He’s your best friend.

“Don’t you think it could help you?” Luke asked. “Just talk to him, Tremz. Honestly, look, I certainly don’t want you getting any better. I have my own career to think about. But you’re my friend and your temper costs you thousands alone—”

There was a shout from the TV. A horrible, gut-wrenching sound that any athlete could identify. Someone had gone down.

“O’Hara runs for—” said a commentator. “Oh. Oh, oh, oh dear.”

Logan pushed himself up on his hands, dislodging the massage therapist from his back. Luke snapped towards the television, too.

“Shit,” Luke whispered.

Logan couldn’t have managed words if he tried.

Finn was on the ground, first on his back and then rolling helplessly onto his side, his hands locked around his knee. The cry had come from him. Lupin dropped his racket and ran across the court. Logan got one last look at Finn’s face before his view was blocked by the flock of medics surrounding him.

“That…does not look good,” said the therapist and began working again. Logan hardly felt the knuckles against his shoulders.

His heart was pounding. When another sound came from Finn, wrecked and in so, so much pain, Logan flinched.

The hands on his back disappeared in a flash. “Mr. Tremblay, I’m so sorry, did I—are you hurt?”

The camera caught every frantic rise and fall of Finn’s chest. Another close up. Sweat beaded on Finn’s forehead for an entirely different reason and the grimace of pain. His teeth were pressed together, eyebrows drawn. His fall had knocked the blue hat off and his dark red hair looked vivid and bright against the hard court.

Yes, Logan thought. Everything in him was on fire and begging to get that look off Finn’s face. Yes, I’m hurt.

~

Logan knew what the headline would be before he even saw it. Logan Tremblay fined $15,000 for skipping his mandatory press conference to go visit injured Finn O’Hara in hospital.

Finn knew it, too. No sooner had Logan made it through the door than was Finn throwing ice chips at him.

“What the fuck, Lo?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Fifteen thousand dollars.”

“I think I can afford it.” Logan dragged a chair over from the wall, sat, and didn’t plan on getting up until he knew Finn was going to be all right.

Finn looked exhausted, but the worry on his face was worse. His countless freckles looked stark in the hospital room light. Logan tried to see past it, into the bright eyes that had looked at him for the first time when they were sixteen. This face…Finn. Finn, who Logan had been longing for ever since.

Finn smiled weakly at him. His hands were knotted up in his sweatshirt. His knee was bandaged and elevated on a pillow.

“You could have waited an hour,” Finn said.

Logan didn’t know how to tell him no. No, he couldn’t wait. An hour would have been torture.

Finn cracked a smile. “But I guess you would have cursed out a reporter and made it twenty thousand.”

Logan couldn’t help it. He smiled back. Where he was bad with words, Finn was understanding. Sometimes Logan thought Finn could read him with just one look.

“Remember Rome?” Finn asked. “Where we met?”

Logan closed his eyes. Finn read his mind with just one look. “Of course.”

“I was dreaming about it, I think, when they put me under.”

“What, me beating you?”

Finn laughed and Logan had to look away. He reached out and brushed light fingers against the bundle of bandages.

“No.” Finn sighed and leaned his head back against the pillows. “That pool. And that wine.”

The almost kiss, Logan thought. One look at Finn, who was smiling slightly, and he knew he’d been read again.

“It was a good night,” Logan said.

Finn nodded. “Hm.” He tilted some ice chips into his mouth and crunched them. “Ended a little soon for my taste.”

Logan smothered a smile with his hand over his mouth. He wasn’t sure why they danced around it. It wasn’t like it wasn’t allowed. Male players dated female players all the time. Only, they never had to play against each other.

They listened to the buzz of the lights. A nurse came and went with water and pain medication. On top of the sheets, their hands found each other. Finn’s was cold from holding the ice and Logan encased it in his own.

Quietly, Finn said, “I think it’s over.”

“It’s not over.”

“I think it is.” Finn’s eyes were on his knee. “It’s not good, Lo. It’s just…It’s not good.”

“How long?”

“I’ll heal up okay, but…But knees are fragile and this isn’t the first time I’ve had a problem. Well, this is more than a problem, but…”

“Give it time.”

“That’s not what they told me.”

“It’s not over. Your game is too beautiful to be over.” You’re too…

Finn’s lip trembled. “Thanks.”

Logan wanted to fix it. Now. Now.

But Finn was Finn and so he let out a slow breath and tilted his chin up. “Maybe it’s okay.”

“It’s…okay?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m alone in hotels. I mean, besides my coach, besides the trainers. But that’s what this life feels like sometimes. People telling you where to go and sleeping in strange beds.” Finn looked down, then carefully back at Logan. “I love the game. God, I do. But…maybe I want something different now. I mean, a family. A…a partner.”

Logan’s stomach tightened. Finn, off somewhere, with—with someone. With someone. Someone who didn’t know him. The possessiveness that burned through Logan’s chest ached.

“It takes a specific kind of person to want to live this kind of life,” Finn said.

“Why do you think I work alone?” Logan said.

Finn huffed out a laugh. “I mean someone who’s separate from tennis.”

It was a slap. It was a knife. “Do you…do you want them to be separate from tennis?”

Finn sighed. “I want them to love me. So many players have people who follow them, and are with them, but are they with them? It’s all about the player’s dreams. Tennis. What they want. I mean, I’m racing towards…titles. Yes. And I love it but, I want to make sure I can—you know. I want to make sure my person isn’t ignored. I want it to be equal.” He looked at his knee, seemed like he wanted to speak again, but didn’t. 

Logan just held his hand and tried not to say anything stupid.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Finn asked softly. “With no coach, no team…”

“I have the game,” Logan replied. “The titles. And you.”

“Maybe me.”

“And you,” Logan said fiercely. “And Luke.” Finn rolled his eyes and Logan couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do you hate Luke so much?”

“I don’t. He’s just…always around.”

Logan laughed harder. “He’s on tour with us.”

Finn’s fingers tightened around his. “Maybe I like having you to myself.”

Logan was going to cry, suddenly and blubberingly. Finn not on tour. Please no.

Finn saw it and gave him a smile, even as his own eyes filled. “Maybe I will be your coach.”

Logan half laughed, half wiped his nose. “Think I’d listen to you?”

There was no hesitation and almost no sadness when Finn answered, “Yes.”

~

Over the next months, Logan was introduced to tour life without Finn. Luke was great, and they hit together, but he wasn’t Finn. He was too serious to be Finn, and Logan had enough seriousness all on his own. Finn, who’d dump the entire pitcher of ice water on Logan’s head just for fun. Finn, who made them take breaks to go find a nice lunch spot in a part of a city they hadn’t been before.

They spoke on the phone. For the first little while, Finn sounded miserable. In pain. But then he started to sound better. He started talking about how much time he had to read, to sleep. To actually watch the game he loved so much. He’d dissect all of Logan’s opponents for him and—and Logan was winning. A lot. It just made him miss Finn more. The money was good, but he had more than enough money. The trophies got sent back to his home in LA, but he was never home.

Logan distracted himself. He got himself up each morning and went through his routine. The hotel staff of whatever hotel he was in brought him a smoothie. He ran. He hit with Luke until Luke’s coach didn’t like how fast Logan could take apart Luke’s game. Then it was just Logan and a random hitter he’d been assigned. He ate room service and watched game tape. It only took him a week to realize he was always waiting for that knock on his door. That Finn knock. Bum-bum-ba-bum. Let’s go, Tremblay, get out of your head for a bit.

By the time four months had past, he thought he’d die if he didn’t hear it.

“I miss you,” Logan said quietly one night, eyes on his dark ceiling. It was so bad, this waiting for Finn, that sometimes that he had to pause and press a hand to his chest. He’d actually asked the physicians about it, just in case he was mistaking missing Finn for an actual problem. They had looked at him funny, told him everything looked and sounded perfectly normal.

What hurts? one had asked.

Nothing. Logan had said. I just wanted to make sure.

Now, in the cool hotel room, the rustle of Finn’s breath on the other end of the line made Logan close his eyes.

“I miss you, too,” Finn said. “A lot. Congrats against Knut, by the way. He a fucking rocket. And he’s only going to get better, what is he, twenty-two?”

“Something like that. I only barely beat him.”

“Sure, but you did.”

“Thanks to you,” Logan said. “I never play better than when we’ve talked about it.”

“Well.” Finn sounded proud. “Hey, you know, I’ll be cleared to travel soon. I might not be playing but I could—”

“Yes,” Logan said. “Please.”

Please, please, please.

Finn laughed. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Please come.”

More rustling. Finn lying down in bed?

“Okay,” Finn said. “Okay, I will.”

Logan rolled onto his side, cradling the phone close. “Hurry.”

“As fast as I can. I’ll look for hotels tonight.”

“No, don’t stay somewhere else.”

“Lo, I can afford your hotel with sponsors, but not like this. I’m not you.”

“No, I mean stay with me.”

This big, cold hotel suite. Logan wandered through the rooms, floated between the hot courts and this cold, cold marble.

Silence on the other line. Logan’s heart picked up, until he heard a breath that he was sure had a smile in it.

“All right.” Finn let out a laugh that sounded like it was covered by his hand. “Okay.”

Logan had to smother his smile in his pillow. “Okay.”

They stayed on the line for what felt like hours—probably minutes—breathing and listening to each other and nothing at all. Completely quiet, but it was the most not alone Logan had felt in weeks.

Finn arrived, suitcase and backpack and those massive headphones that used to be Logan’s. He knocked on Logan’s door. Bum-bum-ba-bum. He looked tired from the plane ride. He opened his mouth to say something, a grin on his face. It was probably going to be something sarcastic.

But Logan launched himself into his arms, clinging tightly around his neck.

Finn grunted out a laugh, but held him back. “Hey, hey.”

Finn rubbed a hand up and down his back once. When had Logan last been touched in a way that wasn’t medical? Finn’s hand cupped the back of his neck and Logan knew he went weak against him but he couldn’t help it. Finn didn’t seem to mind. He held Logan’s weight. It was the middle of the night anyway, Logan could blame it on that.

“Have you been up?” Finn asked. “You need your sleep.”

“I couldn’t miss your knock.”

Finn’s hands stilled. He pressed his fingers into Logan’s spine, right where he was always sore. “I would have…I would have banged the door down.”

Logan laughed and pulled back. He realized how long he had been holding onto him, that he was still holding on. He let go, suddenly bashful.

“I can call for food,” Logan said. “Are you hungry? I mean, come in first.” He laughed, stumbled a little as he stepped back. “Come in.”

He watched Finn drop his bags onto the floor and look around. The main living room was the size of three hotel rooms. The bedrooms were spacious and had a connecting master bath. There was a kitchenette that all of Logan’s sponsors had stocked with snacks and the various energy bars and drinks they represented. Logan hated energy bars. Grainy and chewy. He brought cups of fruit onto the court with him instead and didn’t care how unhappy it made anyone. Logan watched Finn walk around. He’d left his rooms sort of a mess. Finn avoided the various piles of sponsor clothing without comment. He touched the two Rolex watches Logan was expected to put on during post-game interviews and press conferences. Those were supposed to be in the closet safe. He brushed his fingers over Logan’s secret favorite sweatshirt which was draped over the back of the couch—it was Adidas, which he wasn’t allowed. If he ever got caught on camera in it, it would be horrible. He only wore it alone, inside. Or with Finn.

“Must be nice to be number two in the world,” Finn said.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s okay.”

I miss you. I miss youImissyou.

Finn smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Shut up,” Logan laughed. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Finn said.

And, suddenly, Logan had new nights. The days were the same. He left Finn with his crutches and his ice packs and his rehabilitation routine to practice and prepare for his next match. But his nights. Card games with Finn on the balcony. Get out of your head, Tremblay. We’re relaxing now. You’re with me. Video games, side by side on the couch. Dinner in the hotel restaurant, or somewhere in a city that Finn had found. Laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. So happy that it became a blur of one day, I am going to kiss you. Please, let me kiss you one day.

That morning after he won Indian Wells, he sat poolside with Finn and everything was almost perfect.

“You know what I wish Nike would do for once?” Finn said.

“What?” Logan looked over his sunglasses at Finn.

“Dress you in your colors.”

Logan looked over at Finn and laughed. They were poolside, cooling off from a morning run back at the hotel. Well, Logan had run. Finn and his bad knee had rode beside Logan in a golf cart and shouted encouragement far too gleefully.

Now, Finn had a duffle bag in front of him and was ripping into the stuff Nike had sent over for the French Open. Red shirt. Blue shorts. White piping.

“French fucking flag.” Finn sighed. “Typical.”

“I’m French,” Logan replied. “It’s my home court, in Paris.”

“I know you are, but it’s typical.”

Logan smiled, popping another macadamia nut into his mouth. They were good. Spicy and salted. The guy that had brought them a pitcher of lemony ice water had set them down, too. “And what’s my color, then?”

Finn reached over the side table between them and pulled Logan’s sunglasses off his face. “Take a look in the fucking mirror.”

Logan snatched the glasses back. Green, he guessed. Logan rolled those eyes and Finn smiled at him.

For a moment, Logan imagined Finn bracing his hands on the sides of Logan’s hips. They’d dip into the mesh of the lounge chair and bring Finn even closer when he kissed him.

Everything was almost perfect.

Logan put his glasses back on. “Just wait until Paris,” Logan said. “It will be more red and blue than you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to win.”

Clay surfaces were his home. What more did he need?

They flew together to Paris. Finn’s knee was healing, but Logan didn’t let him carry anything. Not his backpack, not their food for the plane.

“You’re worse than my mom was when she came to visit,” Finn said.

They were taken to a new hotel, a new grand suite. If the manager that personally showed them around gave them a particular sort of look, Logan didn’t care. Finn certainly didn’t seem to care. He spent a good part of the tour with his arm thrown around Logan’s shoulder. Forgot my crutch, he said. Need someone to take some of my weight.

Logan was still smiling about that as he made his way along the buffet station at breakfast the next morning. Finn had used the trick again. Knee’s sore, Lo, won’t you make my plate for me? Logan didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed anything more than picking out Finn’s favorites. He was so focused on finding the perfect burnt pieces of bacon that he didn’t even see the waffle flying out of tongs and towards him until it was on his plate.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry, oh my God, I didn’t…oh.”

Logan looked up and the voice—and up. Blond, was his first thought, quickly followed by blue.

It was Leo Knut. Six-foot-something, wicked serve, one-handed backhand, American. Younger than Logan. Rumored to be poised to break all the records. Logan’s, Black’s, anyone’s. And he’d be around longer to do it.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said, truly looking apologetic, and for a moment Logan thought he was talking about the records. Leo looked down at the waffle. “I don’t know if you want that, but…there you go.”

“It’s…fine,” Logan said uncertainly. “It’s fine.”

Leo smiled at him. “Okay… Hey, I don’t think we’ve officially met besides…” Me beating you, Logan thought. “I’m Leo.”

“Ouais, I know.”

Leo laughed. “Oh. Well, that’s a little dream come true for my younger self.”

Logan tilted his head. “Oh.” He was pretty used to that. And he guessed it was a compliment—even if he was technically being called old. Also, for some reason he was blushing.

“And you’re…” Leo raised his eyebrows.

“You know who I am, you just said.”

“All right…” Leo’s blue eyes looked him up and down. “Well. Enjoy the waffle. And good luck.”

“You too,” Logan said, and headed towards the orange juice.

When he got back to their table, Finn was looking at him with amused eyes.

“Quoi?” Logan asked. “Shut up, what?”

Finn laughed. “Nothing. Nothing, just…”

“Quoi?”

Finn laughed and held up his hands. “You’re a really nice person, but not many would think it upon meeting you.”

Logan blinked. He looked over at Knut, who was sitting with one of the Black brothers. “What? I was—I was nice. You don’t even know what I said, you were over here!”

“You had his statistics you were thinking about all over that pretty face of yours.”

“I…” Pretty face. “He gave you a waffle.”

“Oh-ho,” Finn picked up his fork. “Yeah, I saw what happened. Octopus limbs, that’s what that one has.” Finn cut himself some waffle. “It was kind of sweet.”

Logan stared at him. Sweet?

Blond. Blue. Sweet.

“What is his accent?”

“Louisiana,” Finn said around some bacon.

“Lou…ouais-ana.” Logan caught Finn smiling again. “What?”

“I just like the way you talk, that’s all.”

~

“Me again,” Finn said later that night, tossing down his cards with a grin.

Logan groaned. “This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Ha, why? Because you’re not winning? You gonna curse me out like you do on the court?”

Logan rolled his eyes. He offered Finn another pour of wine.

“Oo-way.”

Logan could hear the pop-pop of one of a game of table tennis from somewhere. Finn kept glancing towards the sound—even while winning.

“Do you miss it?” Logan asked quietly. He put his card down without really looking at it. He was too focused on this new, slightly unhappy set of Finn’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Finn replied. “I mean, of course. It’s my life. Was.”

Logan nodded.

“But.” He smiled slightly. “This has been…really good, Lo. Really good for me. Thanks for letting me…” Finn glanced around balcony, then over at their suite. “Be here. I’ll need to find some way to pay you back.”

“Non,” Logan said. “You don’t.”

“I do,” Finn said. “I do. I don’t mean—I mean, I pay for the stray dinner but I—”

Logan leaned forward and covered Finn’s hand with his. Their cards mingled and showed between them, but Logan didn’t care about the game.

“I don’t want your money,��� Logan said. “I want you—here.”

Finn had his eyes on their hands.

Logan tried to think of a way to tell him that he’d been right. That he had been so unbearably lonely.

And then his phone started to ring.

Logan closed his eyes when he caught sight of the number. “Stupid sponsors.”

Finn cracked a smile and let Logan’s hands go. “Who?”

“My agent. Probably about…” Logan flashed the Rolex he was wearing. “I forgot to put it on last press conference.”

Finn hummed and raised his glass of wine to his lips. “Looks good on you, though.”

Logan took the call inside and blushed the entire time.

~

The crowd was on his side. It was his home crowd. France adored him. He couldn’t walk through the city without being cheered—even sometimes from passing bicycles.

Finn was in his box. Finn, who the commentators had started referring to as Logan’s unofficial coach. Over the last months, they practiced together, Finn shouting advice and commands—bolder and bolder. He ran Logan through drills that used muscles Logan hadn’t even thought of before. Logan was in better shape than he’d ever been in his life, that annoying twinge in his ankle was gone. Not better—gone.

And he was still losing this final somehow. He’d made it this far and Black was wiping the floor with him, literally. Twice Logan had stumbled and fallen into the clay. He was covered in the stuff. His back, his butt, his face. Usually, he loved that. The grit. The taste. But he couldn’t shake this humiliation. The somewhat quiet crowd. This sense that, after such perfection he’d experienced lately, it was just a fluke. That he wasn’t enough.

At one of change-overs, he used his bathroom break. His fists were clenched, his teeth grit. He knew the cameras were just waiting for him to lose it like he always did.

But Finn was watching, right next to his sisters and his parents. He needed to get to the locker room. Then he could throw something.

No sooner had he shoved the door open and stepped inside, than Finn was there. He slipped in silently. Logan didn’t know how he’d gotten in, but there he was. Wearing his old, blue Nike hat and one of Logan’s Nike shirts. He was flushed from the sun and so infuriatingly calm. Hands in his pockets. Logan was standing in a second, throwing his own hat aside.

“I’m losing it,” Logan shouted. “Every fucking shot Black takes—”

But he didn’t get farther than that.

Finn took Logan’s face in his hands, none too gently. He got close. His brown eyes were fierce. Familiar. Logan went slack and quiet in his hold. For a moment, it was just their breathing.

“Get out,” Finn whispered and Logan could feel his breath against his cheek. “of your fucking head.”

And then Finn kissed him.

His mouth was warm. There was the bitter hint of sunscreen. The sweetness of the cinnamon gum he always chewed. Sweat. Logan felt himself stumbled, surprised. As quickly as Finn caught him around the waist, Logan was clutching at his shoulders. Yes. The word sped through and made his ears ring. Finn’s hands swiped down against his neck and then gripped his shirt, pulling back.

Logan was too surprised to chase him. Finn looked down at him, breathing just as hard.

“You are going to win,” Finn said harshly. He took his hat off and put it on Logan’s head, backwards how he liked it. And he let go. He turned and walked out.

Logan stood there. He touched his lips. Finn.

Slowly, he adjusted Finn’s hat. 

Finn.

He used the bathroom.

Finn.

He adjusted the sweatband on his wrist.

Finn.

He caught sight of himself in a locker room mirror. Where his cheek had hit the clay, Finn’s fingers had wiped streaks of red clay away. Like he was still touching Logan. Like he was all over him. People would probably expect him to wash his face while he was in here.

He didn’t.

The sun beat down on him as he walked back out onto the court. The crowd cheered, maybe for him, maybe that the game was picking up again. Logan didn’t care. All he knew was that he felt lighter. He could move easier, he could breathe. Even the sight of Black, waiting for him impatiently, didn’t phase him. Some killer, mentally crushing spell had been broken. Finn had broken him back into himself.

And when he won, Logan swore he heard Finn shout first, seconds before the stadium exploded. Like Finn had so much faith in him that he could see the perfect placement of the ball on Logan’s racket and sense its spin. He probably could. Logan fell down onto his back. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the stadium thunder for him.

Trem-blay, Trem-blay!

What a come back, what a bloody come back, the commentators were probably saying.

He shook Black’s hand. He threw his wrist bands into the crowd. He kept Finn’s hat. Finn was standing there in the players box with his arms raised, his hands fists and the widest smile on his face. His sisters beside him were jumping up and down, hugging each other.

Fucking yes! Logan saw Finn’s mouth move around the words, reading his lips. He held out one of those fists to Logan, the same one that had gripped his t-shirt not too long ago. Yes, Lo.

Without thinking, Logan started to climb towards his box. He knew they were supposed to use the stairs now, but there was no time. He had to get to Finn. He had been so tired a moment ago that his muscles shook, but he couldn’t feel that now. He needed to get to them, to reach them. His sisters. His parents. Finn, who had changed his world. His entire world. In two seconds.

He felt some of the crowd reach out and touch him, grasping his shoulders. They were still chanting his name. He swung himself over the railing, nearly stumbling once, and then he was in Finn’s arms. Finn thumped him hard on the back and then knotted his fingers into Logan’s sweaty hair.

“I knew it,” Finn whispered hoarsely against his neck. “I fucking knew it, I’m so proud of you, oh God, I’m so fucking proud of you. Lo, I can’t even breathe, you played so well. You did it, your game, oh my God, your game—”

Logan closed his eyes and let Finn wash over him.

“Thank you,” Logan whispered. “Thank you, thank you…”

Finn pulled back to look at him, palm on his cheek. He was smiling so wide Logan thought it must hurt—he also knew the same expression was on his own face. Finn, who deserved it all. This. Logan had the wild, overwhelming urge to give Finn the trophy, the prize money, all of it. It was his.

Logan was so unquestionably Finn’s.

“Lo,” Finn said. There were tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

He thought about kissing Finn right then and there.

He was enveloped by his sisters. They screamed in his ears and he laughed, loud and delirious.

Even having to give a speech couldn’t bring him down. He thanks the people he was told to thank, and then he thanked the people he wanted to thank. The crowd, he praised in French. In English, his parents. His sisters. And then—

“And—and Finn. My—” My? So many words filtered through Logan’s mind. English, French, it didn’t matter. “Who’s supported me and—” He kissed me. He kissed me. “I couldn’t have done it without any of you. Merci.”

He met Finn in the tunnel, confetti still on his shoulders, still holding his trophy. Finn laughed, let out a long whoop that brought people’s eyes and smiles towards them.

Logan held out the trophy. “Yours, too.”

“It’s not mine.”

Kiss me, Logan thought. Kiss me again. Finn looked like he might.

Instead, Finn just kissed the trophy where Logan had and then raised it above his head with another shout. A few people actually started clapping and Finn turned towards the sound with a grin.

“Okay,” Finn said, cradling the trophy against his side. “Go get on the bike.”

Logan just stared at him. He was still breathing hard. He could feel sweat trailing through the clay on his neck.

Finn pushed the trophy back into his arms and slapped him on the side of his ass. “Hello, what’s wrong with you, get on the bike before you get stiff—”

“If you think I can do anything but be alone with you right now,” Logan said in a low voice. Finn’s brown eyes widened. “You’re insane.”

Finn’s pupils were vast and black. He wet his lips. Slowly, he smiled.

“Get on the bike,” Finn whispered. “Then, we have a party to go to. And you’re the guest of honor.”