#insane to think how much can change in a year. no more drinking and making out with a girl who doesnt like me woagh

[angelofviscera]

all I wanna do is drink around u you're so boring but I don't really wanna feel like shit in the morning!?!?!?!!!!!!!!

[wosohours]

commitment - leah williamson x reader

You always heard about “don’t date athletes” and “athletes are players," but of course when good advice comes your way, you ignore it.

It was a bit insane to think that you could start talking to the one girl who could not be bothered with being in a committed relationship. That gut feeling telling you “Don’t get too close”, “Don’t entertain her”, or “Don’t fall in too deep” but you once again ignored it.

Honestly, you could not help it. It was like a craving to be around Leah all the time. It almost felt like an obsession of wondering, “What is she doing?”, “Where is she?”, “Is she thinking about me?”

Constantly checking your phone to see if she messaged you. Looking at her social media every hour on the hour. You were in deep and you knew it would eventually lead to hurting yourself. Yet, being someone with the typical heart-eye delusions, the thoughts in the back of your mind kept saying, “She will change for you.”

Trying to distance yourself never worked because every time you were at a safe enough distance she kept pulling you right back in. Leah knew that she had some type of hold on you and constantly used that to her advantage.

Just last week she was barely texting and calling you back. You understood that she was not obligated to do so since you two were not officially together, but you were most definitely a little…maybe even a lot more than “just friends.” The dates, the romantic gestures, and the PDA all confirmed that but you could never understand her constant pushing and pulling.

Leah knows exactly how to make it up to you though. She texted three days ago saying how sorry she was not keeping in contact, how she misses you like crazy and how she planned a whole day for just the two of you. You were strong this time, wanting her to feel how she makes you feel by not texting back and declining her calls those three days. Yet one slip of weakness and here you are right back in her bed.

____________________

“I missed you so much you have no ideas.” Leah tells you as she feathers kisses all over your face as you both lay in bed naked.

“Oh really? I would not have guessed.” you said as you sat up from her chest and moved away from her a little. She froze looking at you with that cute frown that is usually stuck on her face and said, “Baby I told you I am truly sorry, I really mean it. I have just been a bit busier since the launch of my third book. You know this.”

Leah wraps an arm around your waist pulling you back down closer to her. “I am here now though, aren’t I?” You hesitantly relax into her and say, “I know but a simple text or any sort of reply would have been nice. I just missed you.” You can feel Leah smiling against your hairline after she lays a soft kiss there. “I missed you too babe.”

After a moment of you two just enjoying each other's company she says quietly, “How about we get up, you come shower with me, and then we can go out and get some breakfast?”

____________________

Once again the cycle repeats itself with Leah distancing herself. No longer answering calls or texts. Although it hurt, you thought it would be best to leave things the way they were to protect your peace, even pushing yourself to be petty enough to block her number. It was almost like you were putting her up to the test to see how far she would go to get your attention.

Although she did swipe up on one of your Instagram stories of you in a tight shirt with no bra saying, “I’ve seen it, now delete it,” but you ignored that as well.

____________________

Since being friends with Leah for many years you have grown closer with some of the Arsenal girls and with them loving your company, a couple of them have asked you to join them in celebrating the end of their USA tour at a local pub. People are either mingling by the bar, doing karaoke, or sitting around the reserved private table in the back.

Currently, you are at the bar getting a drink and you can feel Leah’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.

“What’s going on with you two? You have been more grumpy than usual,” Katie teases Leah as she sits in the empty seat next to her. “She's ignoring me,” Leah sighs, still looking at you.

“What have you done this time?” Alessia asks from across the table. “I’ve been kind of avoiding her again. I don’t mean to but I don’t know what I’m doing.” Leah replies.

“Have you tried talking to her about how you feel? Do you actually want to have a serious relationship with her?” Katie asks.

“No, I haven't talked to her. Every time I try to talk about us my mouth goes dry and all of a sudden I can’t think, and of course, I want something serious with her I’m just nervous,” Leah shakes her head and looks down at her fidgeting fingers.

Lia, who has been listening to the conversation from her seat next to Alessia, speaks up, “Well you might need to tell her soon because the bartender is flirting with her heavily.”

This causes Leah’s head to shoot up in your direction and sees the bartender smiling at you and reaching her hand over to rest on your forearm. “Yeah, not happening.” Leah quickly stands up from her seat and pushes past people to make her way over to you.

When she gets to you she gently wraps an arm around your waist not to startle you and pulls you back into her chest. She gives her glare that she usually saves for the pitch to the bartender, making her quickly release your arm and turn her attention to another customer waiting at the other end of the bar.

Leah smiles when you relax into her and she whispers in your ear, “You’ve been avoiding me.” You slowly turn around until you are face to face with her and say. “Hurts doesn’t it?”

“I deserve that. Why don’t we go have a chat and I will explain myself?” Leah says, moving her hand to grab yours. “Really? You want to talk now and here?” you scoff.

Leah just nods and gently pulls your hand so that you follow her out to the back patio of the pub. She sits on a bench that is a little bit away from the loud building and pulls your hand down to sit next to her.

“You know you shouldn’t just flirt with anyone, she could've just been charming you into being her next one nightstand,” she says.

“Hmm, pot meets kettle huh? You would know,” you scoff pulling your hand away from hers.

“No, I wouldn’t, because we are more than that,” she firmly replies.

“It sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“I know,” she sighs, focusing on her shoes, “but I can explain.”

You look at her and slightly nod your head giving her the indication to keep talking.

“I love everything about us. I love how we are with each other. How easy it is to be around you and the connection that we have. I’m just scared of the reality of us being together because it seems too good to be true,” she confesses. “Don’t get me wrong I do want to be with you and I am serious about you but there is this nagging feeling in my head that I am going to screw it all up.”

You grab her hands gently and say, “That’s completely understandable Leah, I wish you would have communicated with me about how you felt earlier. However, you can’t make future assumptions about something you or we haven’t even tried yet. Neither of us has any idea of what could happen but it doesn’t mean push away and hide from it.”

You continue, “You are looking too far into the future when you should be focusing on right now. That self-sabotaging brain of yours is going to stall you for great things one day.” you giggle pushing her head away making her laugh too.

After the giggles die down she says, “You are completely right. If you allow me to give this…us another try I am willing to put my all into it. I just ask that you give me that reassurance.”

“I can give you that, but you have to promise to communicate with me.” you nod raising your hand to move a piece of hair out of her face.

“I promise to communicate my feelings to you,” she replies leaning into your hand.

You smile and stand up from the bench pulling her up with you to give her a hug resting your head against hers. Leah pulls back a bit to give you a few quick pecks on the lips causing you to giggle and move away.

“My girl,” she whispers, pulling you back against her and laying one last kiss on the side of your head.

____________________

Since that day Leah has kept her promise of communicating more and you have kept yours by reassuring her when she needed it. She even asked you to officially be with her a couple weeks later and it had felt as though something shifted in the air.

She was constantly texting, calling, and wanting to be attached to your hip. When you too were with each other in person she would constantly cling to you but you were okay with it since that is what you were wanting from the beginning.

[aerchivez]

ʚɞ pretty boy: geto suguru !

synopsis: suguru never lets anyone touch his hair. he makes an exception for you though, his pretty little roommate.

note: i adore roommate fics SO much !! and i feel like suguru is such an intimate person #needthat (this is a republish !)

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

having a hot roommate is both a curse and a blessing, like what do you mean that pretty face is just sitting on a couch eating fuckass lay's from last week's party.

it was definitely trying not only your patience but actually his as well, you are completely oblivious on how gorgeous you actually are and geto makes sure you know that every single day and gets you all flustered and red.

today was movie night but you had to postpone a bit cause geto randomly wanted to shower and to make sure he smells good if you ever cuddle him. you know, like typical roommates!

geto walked towards the couch as he was drying his hair with a towel, you can't help but observe him from the kitchen. how long his pretty eyelashes are.

you catch yourself daydreaming once again and shook your head intensely to regain consciousness from whatever that was.

"you ready, sugu?" you grab the latte you made for geto as he opens his arms for you, signalling that you will cuddle him throughout the movie. "yeah, thanks for the coffee."

making yourself comfortable on the couch and under geto's arms, you noticed that he still hasn't brushed his hair from the shower.

"sugu? want me to help dry your hair?" he had an inquisitive look on his face but immediately turns into a warm smile, how could he say no?!

he turns his back at you and handed you the brush. "i could've sworn you use 5in1! how is your hair this soft?!" both of you laugh, he did use 5in1 but you raved about this shampoo a year ago and he started using it and now he cannot actually live without it.

"i'm actually appalled by your accusation! my shampoo is well over $20, you recommended it silly." he says pointing at you with a heavy hand.

"babes, i recommend you almost every single thing like toilet bowl cleaners... wait, do you buy everything i tell you to?" you forcibly face geto, not realising the proximity between the two of you.

"well... i trust you, so. yeah." your patience is actually getting challenged by this beautiful giant man in your lap, the only thing you could really do is rest your face on his shoulders and give it a bite.

that is NOT casual or roommate behaviour at all. i mean everything else is not usual roommate behaviour but you do realise that geto does smell of fucking L'occitane Almond Shower Oil cause you told him how much you loved it and he should try it too.

how he drinks less coffee and more matcha cause you don't make coffee as often so even when he buys drinks outside it's a matcha latte. how he started cooking a lot more cause you did so. things that you managed to change about him even though it's so minuscule, you'd have to really think about it.

"you're adorable." you whisper in his ear earning a small chuckle from him. "play with my hair?" he gives you a quick peck on your forehead and immediately started styling his hair like how you would a princess.

"suguru, you're so pretty it actually hurts."

"i'd like to think so yeah." you rush to the bathroom to get a handheld mirror and shove it in his face. he deserves to know how pretty he is! "wow, that's an elaborate hairstyle. you a hairstylist or what?"

"no, i'm the oldest sister of five. all girls. you can figure that all out."

"bahaha, yes. thank you baby. let me do yours, yeah?" baby. that's actually insane, you felt your brain short circuited 'cause... well, just don't make a big deal of it!

"uh, ah yeah of course." it was your turn then to turn your back on him but swiftly pulls you closer to him and wrapping his legs around your body. "you're so warm." geto had slightly cold hands so you took it to yourself to warm it up in your hands.

"much better. best. roommate. ever." he says in between giving your cheeks a peck. "you're awfully touchy today, you good?" not like you were against it but.

"i rarely see you without makeup, you're gorgeous." yeah no, that's it. you're turning insane.

[starkeysbunny]

mine [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - when reader goes to hang out with kiara and sarah, rafe gives her no choice as he tags along. he doesn’t trust kiara’s pogue friends around reader, and his protective side gets the best of him.

warnings - protective!rafe, fighting, violence, blood, cursing, talks of death, angst, hurt/comfort, lowkey unpacking rafe’s trauma 😭

﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒

Tonight was the bonfire. An annual, summer bonfire that the pogues throw every year. Normally, kooks are never invited. But, Sarah and I are the only exceptions as Kiara’s best friends. Sarah has been integrated into their group even more so, now that she’s with John B.

But as for me, they still—even after almost ten years of being Kiara’s friend—hold distain toward me. It only got worse when I started dating the kook prince, Rafe Cameron.

John B, JJ, and Pope always have something to say about me and dating Rafe only added fuel to their fire.

I don’t care though. Kiara and Sarah are my best friends and these boys that make up this stupid kooks vs. pogues rivalry aren’t getting in the way of that.

I was excited for tonight, picking out my outfit as I stepped out of the steaming bathroom in my towel. That was until my boyfriend made an utterly insane suggestion.

“What time are we leaving?” Rafe asks nonchalantly as he steps into the room, flopping down onto my bed, and staring at the ceiling.

I pause, spinning around, holding a top in my hand, “We?” He props himself up on his elbows, furrowing his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah, we. What you think I’d just be unbothered by you hanging out with those pogues? It’s not like I’m going to stop you from going, that’s your choice, and I have no problems with Kiara. I know you’re best friends. It’s her pogue friends I don’t trust. I’m not gonna sit here on my ass while you’re at the bonfire with JJ fucking you with his eyes from across the beach.” He states, like it was plainly obvious.

I sigh, sitting down next to him on the bed. “Babe, I love you, but is it really the best idea for you to go? You hate them. I don’t want to start anything.”

“Oh, I won’t,” he assures. “Trust me, I’ll keep to myself, sitting next to you, drinking a beer, minding my business. As long as JJ doesn’t try anything.” He shrugs.

“What do you mean? JJ won’t do anything what’re you—“

“Every time we’re around Kiara, he’s there. And his eyes are on you. Or he says something rude to you. I don’t like it. Only I get to look at you like that, you’re my girl. If he so much as looks in your direction, I’ll make sure he knows you’re mine, that’s all.” Rafe explains, leaning down to slip his shoes on.

“Okay fine. But please, Rafe. I’m begging, don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want this night to be ruined, I just wanna hang out with my friends.” I say, nervous about how Rafe’s behavior easily gets out of hand, especially around JJ.

Rafe sits up, putting his hand on my thigh, and looking right in my eyes. “I know—I know I can get carried away sometimes. And I’m sorry, I just—I need to protect what’s mine, okay? They already took my sister from me, there’s no shot I’d ever let them take you from me too. I don’t trust they won’t hurt you, okay? I just need to be there. Just in case, okay?”

I press my lips together, “Okay. Just promise me, don’t start anything.”

He pauses, contemplating, “Unless he does?”

I roll my eyes, “Fine unless he does.”

Rafe smiles, satisfied, “Then, yes. I promise.” He places a kiss on my cheek.

I get up and walk back to the closet, throwing a pair of denim shorts on the bed and two tops, “Which top?” I turn around and look at Rafe.

He inspects both of them. One being a white tube top with pink lily flowers on it, the other being a crochet multi-colored tube top.

“Mhmm, the flower one.”

I smile at him, grabbing the outfit and changing. I slip on my adidas sambas and grab my purse. “Ready?” I ask him. He says nothing, just staring at me.

I step closer to him, waving my hand in front of his face. “Helloooo??” He just chuckles, pushing my hand down, his hands landing on my hips, and pulling me closer.

“Do we have to go?”

I smile, brushing my hands over his buzzed hair, “Yes, Rafe. C’mon, let’s go.”

He groans, resting his head on my stomach. He places small kisses along my stomach, “But if we stay here,” his hand slides back toward my ass. “I could entertain you.”

My cheeks turn pink as I almost give in, but shake back to reality. “No, c’mon. I promised Kie.” I pat my hand on his back as I step away. “Let’s go.”

He groans, standing and coming to my side. He grabs my hand and walks out the bedroom with me, “Fine.”

I chuckle and lean up, placing a kiss on his shoulder as we walk down the stairs. He opens the front door for me and we head to my drive away. He opens the door of his truck and buckles me in before rounding to the drivers side. My music automatically connects every time we get into his car and it always makes me smile.

-

Rafe parks the car as we arrive at the beach, and I spot Kiara and all her friends by the shore, sitting around the fire while the beach is packed with everyone from the cut.

Rafe opens my door for me, grabbing my hand as I hop out of his truck. He shuts the door and rests his hands on my shoulders, looking out to the beach, and letting out a long sigh. “Oh, stop. It’ll be fine, okay, just try to have fun. For me?”

He rolls his eyes, playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with so I can have you back at Tannyhill tonight all to myself.”

I chuckle, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down toward the beach. I go to the bonfire, where Kie sits with Sarah.

“Kie!”

She turns around, grinning. She gets up and runs over to me, embracing in a hug. “Oh my god,” she gushes, grabbing onto my shoulders. “It’s been forever.”

Her gaze moves to my right where Rafe stands, rigid and unmoving like some kind of guard dog. “And Rafe,” she grumbles.

“Hello to you too Kie,” He smiles condescendingly.

To try to lessen the tension, I turn to Rafe. “Could you go get me a drink, please?” I widen my eyes at him.

He sighs, nodding before walking off.

“Why is he here?” Sarah asks as I go to sit with her and Kie.

“Trust me, I thought it was a bad idea too, but there was no stopping him.” I shrug. “He won’t start anything, trust me.”

Rafe walks back over to us, handing me my drink. He looks over at Sarah, rolling his eyes. “The pogue princess.”

Sarah scoffs, “Oh shut up.”

Rafe opens his mouth to say something again, but when I shoot him a look, he groans but keeps his words to himself.

As the night goes on, Rafe does exactly as promised. I sit with Kie and Sarah, catching up. While Rafe sits beside me, holding one of my hands in his lap as he fidgets with my rings and bracelets, just counting the seconds till he could take me home.

“Well, y’know John B and I got.. married.”

I whip my head around, “What?! Oh my god?”

She chuckles, “Yeah.. kinda of spur of the moment type thing. Not much thought into it—I’m honestly not sure it’s actually legal either but, yeah.”

“Congra—“ I begin before getting cut off by the one person I was praying would not come over here tonight.

“Y/n, what a surprise.” JJ exclaims, walking over to where we were. “And Cameron. Of course,” he says sarcastically.

I feel Rafe tense next to me, his grip on my hand getting stronger. “Can’t say I’m thrilled to see you either, Maybank.”

“You’re the one on the cut. This is a pogue bonfire. Why the fuck are you even here? And with miss kook princess, over here?” JJ looks over at me, then back at Rafe.

“Rafe,” I warn, looking at him as his jaw clenches and he lets go of my hand.

Rafe stands, facing JJ. “I was willing to leave you alone, as long as you left her alone but clearly, that’s not possible for you.” Rafe pushes at JJ’s chest.

“Stop, Rafe.” Sarah shouts, standing and trying to push JJ away. When her attempts don’t work, she waves over John B.

“Rafe, let’s just go,” I stand, tugging at his hand.

“Yeah,” JJ agrees. “Listen to your bitch and go.”

“What the hell, JJ?” Kie stands, even her agreeing her best friend is being an asshole.

Rafe chuckles, his tongue poking at his cheek as he pulls his hand from my grasp, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. “The fuck did you just say?”

“I said take your bitch and go.” JJ spits.

Rafe pushes JJ down and he falls onto the sand, Rafe straddling him as he lands punch after punch. “You always gotta start shit,” Rafe says, blood coating his shirt and knuckles.

“JJ he’s not worth it!” John B shouts, finally making his way over. John B attempts to grab Rafe’s shoulders and pull him off but Rafe pushes John B, causing him to stumble back.

“Rafe, what the hell!” Sarah shouts, going to John B’s side.

I go to grab Rafe’s arm, causing him to stop punching JJ, not wanting to accidentally hurt me. When Rafe pauses, JJ takes the chance and flips Rafe over, landing a punch square to his jaw. “Y/n needs to come around without you sometimes. She’s pretty hot for a kook,” JJ chuckles.

At this, Rafe gets his strength and punches JJ in the jaw so hard, JJ falls off of Rafe, landing on his back in the sand. Kiara goes to JJ and I grab Rafe, trying to pull him away as fast as possible. Rafe shakes from my grip one last time and goes to stand over JJ.

“Stop! Let’s just go, c’mon!” I groan, everyone on the beach now circling the bonfire watching this unfold.

“Listen to her Rafe! Get out of here before the cops get here, just leave!” Sarah shouts, her brows furrowed in anger.

“Talk about her again, Maybank. You won’t live to see the next fucking day.” Rafe spits, standing up and walking over to me. He goes to grab my hand but I refuse, walking past him to the truck.

“Y/n!” He shouts, following after me. I lean against the passenger door, waiting for him.

He walks over, slumped over, feeling defeated even though he technically won the fight, he knows he made me upset. He stands in front of me, unlocking the truck with his keys and I turn around, getting in before he could open the door for me, and shutting it without a word.

When he rounds the car and gets in on the drivers side, I turn on the overhead light and grab his jaw, inspecting his face.

His lips is busted open, a bruise already forming around his cheekbone. Blood splattered across his cheek, neck, and shirt. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “But I couldn’t stand there while he said that shit about you.”

“You could’ve let it go and we could’ve just left. I just wanted a normal night to hang out with Kie and now they just have more reason to hate you. And you’re hurt.” I sigh, my thumb gently brushing along his cheekbone.

“No, I couldn’t have. You can be mad at me forever, I don’t care—I’ll always defend you. Even if that means you hate me. I’ll always protect you.” He replies, putting his keys in the engine and starting the car.

I sigh, and lean back, looking out the window. There’s nothing more I could say. When Rafe had his mind set on something, you couldn’t change it. Especially when it came to protecting the people he loved. He’s a naturally protective and territorial person. Nothing can get through his mind when he’s in that violent state, just wanting to protect the people he loves.

After a very silent ride, we arrive back at Tannyhill. Rafe parks in the driveway, pausing before getting out. “Do you want to be here? I can take you home if you don’t want to be around me, I understand—“

“What?” I ask, turning to face him.

“You’re upset. I went too far. I figured you didn’t want to be with me right now.”

“No, Rafe, no,” I sigh, my hand coming to rest on his thigh. “I’m upset at everything that happened but, I’m not mad at you. I think there might’ve been a better way to handle it, but I’m not mad. Let’s just go inside okay? And talk?”

Rafe nods, stepping out of the car and coming to my side, opening the door. My hand finds his as he helps me out and we make our way to the front door.

Quietly, he opens the door to the very empty, quiet, home. Ever since Ward died, I stay over at Rafe’s almost every night. Rafe said he feels lonely at home. Even though Rose and Wheezie still live there, it’s not the same. And tonight, Rose was away on the mainland and Wheezie was staying over at a friend’s house.

Rafe guides me up the stairs, the stairs I’ve walked up countless times. To the familiar route of his room, but I pull him off into the bathroom next to his room.

“What’re you—“

“Shh,” I shush him, patting the counter, indicating him to sit. He sighs, but follows, sitting on the counter patiently.

I reach into the medicine cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit. I grab a wipe, taking away the excess blood so I can clearly see where he’s hurt. I treat his busted lip, Rafe flinching as I put disinfectant on his lips.

“Is it because of your mom?” I ask softly.

He stiffens, and asks, “What do you mean?”

He knows what I mean.

“The overprotectiveness. Is it because of what happened to your mom?” I question.

He sighs, shrugging. “Sort of, I guess. When I was younger I felt like her death was my fault. Ever since then I’ve always wanted to protect what’s mine, everyone close to me. But, it got so.. intensified when we got together. I never protected anyone as strongly as I do with you.”

I nod, staying silent as I inspect his hands. I didn’t speak because, I had a feeling he wasn’t done. Like he had so much more to say. He’s not very good at expressing his emotions. So when he does, I try to give him all the room to vent.

“Does it bother you? Or scare you? I don’t mean to. I just can’t help it. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you and I wasn’t there to defend you. Just like I couldn’t defend my mom, I guess.”

I press my lips together, grabbing the wrap from the kit. “It doesn’t scare me in the way you think. I just don’t want you to go too far one day and do something you’ll regret. Or hurt yourself beyond repair. That’s what scares me.”

He doesn’t say anything, watching silently as I wrap his bruises knuckles. “I just hate him. All of them. They took everything from me. I won’t let them take you. I hate the way they look at you. The way he looks at you. The things they say.” His jaw clenches just thinking about it.

“They don’t know you. They don’t understand how truly selfless and kind you are. They don’t know shit. I hate the way they talk about you. Some friend Kiara is for not fucking defending you either—“ His voice begins to raise.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” I sigh, finishing bandaging his hand. “Look let’s just go to bed, okay? It’s been a long night.” I pat his knee and move from between his legs. He slips off the counter and I gently put my hand in his.

He follows me like a lost puppy to his own bedroom.

His room is the polar opposite of mine and it always makes me smile. When he’s in my room, seeing him curled up on my fluffy pink bed, and me in his cold, plain room in my frilly pink pajamas I keep in his dresser. Rafe goes in his closet and finds some clothes to change into while I change into pajamas from my designated drawer in his room.

I sit on his bed as I wait for him, closing my eyes. I hear his footsteps and look over at him, he’s shirtless, in only some basketball shorts. He flicks off his bedside light and gets under the covers.

I scoot closer, resting my head in the crook of his neck. His hand runs gently, up and down my back, the room falling quiet with just our breathing.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better,” He confesses, causing my heart to shatter into a million pieces.

I sigh, looking up at him. I place a kiss on his jaw, smiling into his neck. “It’s okay. I understand now why you do it. You just need to talk to me, yeah? But maybe just try to not beat people up so terribly.” I chuckle, pointing at his bruises.

“Hey, you should see the other guy,” He jokes, grinning down at me.

I smile softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Goodnight.”

Rafe smiles, his fingers brushing through my hair. “Goodnight, pretty girl.”

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

After all this time… (Night Two, Part One)

A/N: Part 2 is going to be uploaded in 2 parts- here’s the first! Hope you like it, please comment anything you want to see in the future!! 😊

Synopsis: You come home with your childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy during your break at college, and instead of going to your own house, you stay at theirs with them and their mother… who you’ve had a huge crush on since before you can remember. As the visit goes on, you find it more and more torturous with your forced proximity and how she only seems to get more beautiful as the years pass. (READ PART ONE TO UNDERSTAND HOW THIS PICKS UP)

Warnings: More and more tension, seriously insane tension, pet names, milf!Wanda to the max.

Pairing: Mom!Wanda x Student!Reader (fem)

The next morning, you woke to the sound of Wanda’s voice at your door, but much different than the night before. “You awake, hon?” She called into your room. Eager to see the woman’s face and regain her approval after the way she left you last night, you sprung out of the bed and opened the door. Cold air hit you quickly, making you suddenly very aware of the skimpy pajamas you’d worn to bed, but the woman’s traveling gaze made your skin burn once again. “This is cute… must be cold though, huh?” You cross your arms over your chest at this in a mix of embarrassment and the flustered feeling her words and eyes brought to you.

“Oh, I usually don’t wear much to bed, I layer up a ton of blankets, sorry.” You trail off at the end of the sentence with a giggle and look down to your feet. A finger finds itself under your chin once again and forces you to make eye contact with Wanda, on of her eyebrows slightly lifted as she sucks her teeth with a slight tsk as she speaks to you once again. “You know I’m not upset, right?”

“For what I’m wearing? Well, I wasn’t sure, but I was hoping you wouldn’t find it inappropriate or anything- I was planning on changing before I left the room and everything!” She laughs at this, and you’re not sure whether it’s endearing or mocking. “No, honey, that’s not what I was talking about, but I’m certainly not upset about this cute little get up. But I was talking about last night. I know we split on a more��� stern note from myself, but I wanted you to know I’m not upset. Just had to put you in your place a bit. I know you’re such a smart girl, but you won’t be having a smart mouth with me, alright?”

“Yes, Ms. Maximoff, and I’m so sorry, I really wasn’t thinking at all… To be honest, I also don’t really ever drink, so I think I was just a little bit off all night. I really am sorry, and I didn’t mean to snap at all.” She smiles brightly at your response. “So eager to please, aren’t you?” You can’t help but nod. “Well then, we’ll forget all about it, ok? But call me Wanda. And don’t make me tell you again.” She points at you with those last words, but you know she’s saying it in a lighthearted manner when her serious look fades into a big smile and she pulls you into a hug. Maybe you’d be able to get through these couple of days after all!

In fact, after you had breakfast with all 3 Maximoffs, Wanda announced that she was off to a hair appointment, leaving you alone with the boys to catch up for the day. Shortly after she left, Billy and Tommy filed into their car and pulled you in after them before speeding off to an arcade on the other side of town.

After a few hours of playing various games and being sucked into the hypnosis of a claw machine built to make the player fail, dropping the plush toys in the glass case at the very last second before you could reap the prize, you headed back towards their home, hitting many thrift stores and any random places that looked fun on the way back.

After pulling back into the driveway, Wanda’s car sitting in the adjacent spot reminds you very quickly of her presence after your short period of forgetfulness. When you three walked in the front door, your senses were once again overridden with the warm, floral presence of your friends’ mother, your cheeks graced nearly immediately by a bright blush as she looks you up and down as she greets you. “Hi, guys! How was it?” She turns to you specifically, “I see someone likes to shop, huh?”

You look down at the immense number of shopping bags in your hands, not realizing before how many had accumulated over your trip until now, also noticing the way the handles were digging into your hands as you drop a few by the hallway that leads to your and Wanda’s rooms. She drops her taunting tone and reaches out for your hands to see why you’re wincing in their direction. “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, just the handles, I’m all good. I do really like to shop when I’m in town, you’re right about that much.” You laugh lightly.

“Well, if you three don’t have something planned for tomorrow, would you boys mind if I take Y/N up to the big mall in the center of town? I don’t want you two driving that far, and besides, I think your uncle wanted to take you out to lunch while you’re home.” The boys shrug and turn back to their bags of new (old) hats and comics. “Sure, whatever!”

She turns back to you with a cocked eyebrow. “You up for it?” You nod a bit too quickly. She laughs at your eagerness and nods in confirmation of the plans. “Alright, it’s a date then!” Her wording was criminally torturous and she had to know it. Desperate to change the topic, you nod to her hair, which was gathered in a towel atop her head. “I thought you were going out to get your hair done? Did they not shampoo you and all there?” She looks up and laughs as if she had forgotten her own actions. “I always rewash my hair after I get a new cut or color- It’s very stubborn and other people just don’t know how to deal with it, so I redo the styling after every appointment.” You nod in acknowledgement before noting that yours was the same way.

She hums in thought. “I never remembered your hair being too difficult, honey. Wasn’t I the one who taught you how to braid your hair?” You chew on your cheeks at the memories that were now flooding back. “Yeah, you were. I’m still not sure how you managed that, no one else has ever been able to do anything with my hair…”

She smirks at the sound of that before saying “Well, I guess I just know how to tame your stubbornness, huh? Sometimes it just takes a certain touch.” You’re not sure how you hadn’t melted into a puddle by the time she reached out to a lock of your hair and raked her fingers through it, lightly pulling when she got to the end. It was impossible to tell if this was on purpose or not, but you knew for certain that she caught the way you lightly gasped at and leaned into the tug, her eyes immediately darkening and snapping to your own before she brought her hand back to her own person. She gives you just a bit of mercy when she turns halfway to the boys.

“Hey, I think we should go out into town for dinner tonight because… I don’t feel like cooking. We’ll all leave in about an hour, so you should all start thinking about getting into some nice-ish clothes, alright?” The boys nod and head up to their room, you and Wanda going back to your own.

Sorting through your bags and not finding much to suit the occasion, you settle on your go-to jeans and a soft, form-fitting black top. You top it off with a few necklaces and replaces your bottom studs with hoop earrings, spray a nicer perfume, and throw some light makeup on. When you step out of your room at the same time as Wanda, you’re first startled by the synchronization and then left speechless by her effortless beauty.

She’s styled her new haircut, which perfectly frames her face with feathery bangs and a few shaggy layers. It’s young cut that brings out the older woman’s youthful energy and makes you want to drop to your knees in front of her.

Aside from that, she’s chosen a light and dewy style of makeup- a light brushing of mascara and peachy blush kissing her cheeks, bringing out her naturally dramatic cheekbones- and a classy outfit that affected you greatly despite its simplicity: a low-cut black tank bodysuit and straight-cut dark wash jeans. “Looks like we’re matching, sweet girl. How did that work itself out?” She taunts, and your eyes wander to the way slight crows feet announce themselves in the corners of her eyes while she flashes you a smile that makes your head spin.

“I guess great minds think alike, Mrs. Maximoff.” You say the first thing that comes to mind, the rest of your brain short-circuiting at the sight of the woman. She calmly saunters forward just a step, closing the gap between you and forcing you to tilt your head upwards as the additional height created by her black high-heeled boots. As she crosses her arms just below her chest, though, you feel your eyes falter and fall down on instinct. “No, eyes up.” She speaks in a familiarly stern tone, and you look up, biting down on your bottom lip as a flustered warmth covers your face. “And I’m not going to tell you again, little girl,” she brings her thumb up to your chin and drags your lip out of the painful reach of your teeth, “call. Me. Wanda.” Her head is now tilted a bit to the side, her eyes fixed on your bottom lip as it regains color, studying the marks your teeth left on them.

She continues speaking, though this time with a sickly sweet quality, her tone softer now. “And ‘great minds,’ really? I know I tell you you’re my smart girl, but you seem to think I’m yours. Am I right about that, honey?” Your chest rises and falls quickly as your heart rate and breaths quicken at her teasing words.

“You’re… yes, you’re incredibly intelligent, ma’am.” You wince and correct yourself. “Wanda.” She sighs and pushes her tongue into her cheek before talking again.

“No, no, I think ‘ma’am’ is okay, actually. You can have that one. But you didn’t answer my question. Do you think of me as your smart girl?” Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, but no words come out. “Well?”

Your head falls along with your gaze once again, the sight of her soft skin and exposed chest does no help to your efforts to grasp for words. Just when she takes her signature hold on your jaw and forces your eyes to lock with her own, Tommy calls out for her, followed by Billy. The boys were waiting impatiently to leave, minds driven by hunger.

Her grip softens and her eyes drop to the ground as she chuckles. Looking at you once again, she leans forward and lets her lips ghost the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Saved by the bell. Lucky girl.” She pulls back and turns on her heels, disappearing into the doorframe of her room before coming out once more, having produced an oversized denim jacket matching her jeans. “Can’t have you staring at me like that in front of the boys, now can we?” She asks as she rests one hand on your shoulder, letting it run across your chest as she walks towards the front door.

…………………………………………………………………………

Part one of night two! I hope to have the ending of this part out soon. I apologize for my slow uploading schedule, but I want to build the tension in this story the right way and put as much detail in as possible :) Let me know what you think and leave any requests as always! ❤️

Tags: @dandelions4us @bees-for-brains @scxrlett-wid0w @ahintofchaos @rosekjsses @lonliestafterparty @chlondykebar @mommywandas @w1theredroz3 @bella423 @mrsromanovaa @watashiwaglr38

[sydnikov]

Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”  Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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[lee-laurent]

All Wrong - Luke Hughes

Summary: Jack needs some help from Sadie, but Sadie finds another Hughes brother much more interesting.

content: fluff, angst, fake dating, kissing, making out, teasing, dirty jokes, underage drinking

wc: 11.6k

notes: HERE IT IS! MY LONGEST FIC EVER!!!! enjoy!!

"Sadie, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me. It's just for the summer so she leaves me alone," Jack pleaded from his spot on the girl's couch.

"Just tell her you're not interested or that you have a girlfriend. This seems overboard."

"That won't stop her. Trust me."

"Then why would me being there change that?"

"You're intimidating, Sadie. You'll look at her once and she'll run home like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs."

"Jack..."

"Sadie, please! Didn't you say your parents had been on your ass about having a boyfriend? See this could benefit both of us."

"I-"

"Sadie!" Jack's tone had shifted from being teasing to almost desperate. "You don't get it! This girl... she doesn't take 'no' for an answer. Trust me... I've tried."

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, settling further into the couch. "So your brilliant plan involves be pretending to be madly in love with you instead? Egotistical much."

"Shut up. If you're there, she'll see we're serious and she'll back off."

"And you don't think this is going to backfire? Or, I don't know, create a whole mess of awkwardness between us?" Sadie tilted her head, waiting for his response.

"It'll be fine. We're friends, right? We've kissed when we were drunk. We can handle a little fake dating for a few weeks. Plus, the thing with your parents... win-win?"

She sighed, feeling like she was fighting a battle she was gonna lose no matter what. She had mentioned it in passing--how her parents were always asking why she wasn't dating anyone. But this? Fake dating Jack? It sounded like the plot of a rom-com gone wrong.

"I don't know, Jack."

"Look, we'll just keep it simple. I won't make it weird, I promise. We'll hang at the lake house, do the whole 'couple' thing, and by the end of the summer, it's done. You're free. I'm free. And maybe we can get a few laughs out of it."

It sounded insane. Jack was her friend--her close friend--and she could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted her to say yes.

"You really think this will work?"

"Trust me. She'll be running away by the end of the first week."

With a heavy sigh, she finally nodded. "Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me."

"Deal! I owe you big time! But you won't regret this, Sades. It's going to be great!"

She wasn't so sure. It felt so much more complicated than Jack was letting on.

~~

A couple weeks later, Sadie found herself standing on the driveway of the Hughes' lake house. She was standing next to Jack, picking at the chipped nail polish on her fingers. She genuinely felt like she could puke.

"Relax, Sadie," Jack grinned, holding their suitcases. "It's gonna be great."

She narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond. His grin didn't falter, and he motioned with his head for her to walk toward the house. The second her foot hit the first step, the door flew open and Ellen came out with a smile on her face. A smile scarily similar to Jack's.

"You must be Sadie! It's so nice to meet you," she said warmly, wrapping the 21-year-old in a tight hug.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's me," Sadie stammered, trying to return the hug without looking too awkward. It was one thing to pretend around Jack and whoever this scary neighbour girl was, but in front of his family was a whole other can of worms. It felt so much more real.

"We're so excited to have you here! Jack never stops talking about you."

"Doesn't he?" Sadie smirked, turning around to glance at her 'boyfriend' who was pretending he couldn't hear the conversation.

Before she could ask anymore, Ellen was leading her into the home with a hand on her back. "Come in! I'm just finishing getting dinner ready, and the rest of the family should be here soon. Quinn and Jim were picking Luke up from school, so the three of them will be here around 9."

"Moose's coming?" Jack piped up, dropping their bags on the floor. "I thought he wasn't gonna make it this year."

"Changed his mind last minute. We'll all be together," Ellen grinned, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"I'm gonna show Sadie around upstairs, we'll be back down for dinner in like ten minutes."

"Sounds good. I left some fresh towels for you on Jack's bed."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No worries. You two go get settled."

Sadie followed Jack up the creaky wooden stairs, her mind still spinning from meeting Ellen. Everything about the situation felt real. Too real. Way, way too real.

"Your mom is... intense," she muttered, walking into the hallway as Jack pushed open the door to the room they'd be sharing for the summer.

"Yeah, well, that's Mom for you. She loves you already," Jack grinned, throwing himself onto the bed. He stretched out, folding his arms behind his head as if he was relaxed as ever. Like they weren't lying to his entire family.

Sadie sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed, scanning the room. It was cozy. A few posters on the walls, hockey-themed of course, and an old wooden dresser in the corner. The window overlooked the lake and Sadie thought she could fall in love with the idea of living here for the summer pretty quickly.

"So, we're sharing this bed, I take it?" she raised an eyebrow.

Jack chuckled, patting the matress next to him. "Come on, Sades. We're dating, remember? Gotta sell it."

She rolled her eyes, scooting up to sit next to Jack. "Just remember this is fake. No funny business, Hughes."

"I know, I know. Jeez. I already told you, I'm not gonna make it weird. Just for the summer. Then we're free."

She shook her head, already regretting everything. She had agreed to the plan, but now that she was there, standing in their home, sharing a bed--it all felt too close for comfort.

"Speaking of Luke. You didn't mention that your brothers were gonna be here."

"They're chill. Don't stress. Moose has been busy with shit at Umich and Quinn in Vancouver. They'll just be happy to relax. Plus, they don't usually care about talking girls and stuff. So they won't grill you. If anything, they'll give me shit for dating someone so out of my league."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Jack."

Jack snickered, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed she was on. He leaned down, his tone teasing. "Come on, Sades. Let's go down and eat dinner like a happy couple."

"You're so fucking annoying."

~~

Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. Ellen had a special way of making everything seem casual and lighthearted. Jack, of course, had been his usual... charming self, playing the role of the perfect doting boyfriend. He was good at it, touching her back lightly, pulling her chair out for her, and even dropping the occasional kiss on the top of her head.

It should've made her cringe, but instead she found it... comforting?

Ellen had asked the usual 'parent' questions--how they met, what Sadie was studying, if she liked hockey (which of course she had to answer yes to, knowing full well the consequences of not liking hockey in the Hughes household). Sadie played along, forcing herself to laugh at Jack's shit jokes and add details to the story they'd created on the drive up.

"Jack, why don't you take Sadie down to the dock and watch the sunset over the lake" Ellen suggested, clearing the table of plates. "It's beautiful tonight."

"Good idea, Mom," Jack agreed, standing up and taking Sadie's hand with a grin.

"Sure, sounds nice," Sadie forced a smile, trying not to feel awkward holding Jack's hand in front of his mother.

They walked out towards the dock, the cool air helping lift the weight of the day away. The lake stretched out before them, the water reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sunset. Sadie loved scenes like that. They brought her so much peace.

"You're doing great, by the way, Sadie."

She snorted, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I feel like I'm in some weird improv exercise. Just waiting for someone to figure out I don't belong here."

"They're not going to figure anything out," he whispered. "You've got this."

Lying to his family felt wrong, even if it was supposed to be for a good cause. Or at least a cause that Jack thought was good.

"This is going to be a very draining summer," she sighed.

"You wanna go to bed?"

"No, I need to stay up and meet your brothers and your dad."

"They'll still be here in the morning, Sades. If you want to go to sleep, nobody is gonna stop you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, come on. Let's get you some sleep."

~~

"Who's shoes are those?" Luke asked, closing the front door behind him.

"Jack's girlfriend's! You just missed her, she went to sleep about half an hour ago," Ellen smiled, pulling her youngest son into a hug.

"His girlfriend?"

"Yes! Sadie is her name. Such a nice girl. Very pretty too."

Luke looked back down at the shoes again, his mind still trying to catch up with what his mom was saying. Jack's girlfriend? The words felt so unfamiliar. Jack didn't talk about dating much, at least not in a serious way, so hearing about Sadie--a girl he apparently cared enough about to bring home--caught him so off guard.

"Yeah. Jack didn't mention much about her."

"He didn't? Oh, well, you'll meet her in the morning," she reached up to ruffle his hair, like he was still a little kid playing chase around the house with his brothers. "She's lovely. A little shy at first, but I'll sure she'll warm up to everyone. Probably just worried about making a good first impression."

Luke nodded, but inside his curiousity was growing. Shy? He hadn't heard Jack describe anyone as shy in, well, ever. Jack's type was the total opposite--bold, confident, the kind of girl that could hang with his rowdy ass friends without missing a beat. This Sadie girl was starting to sound a lot different than that.

"Well, let's get you boys fed before we all call it a night," Jim said, patting Luke's shoulder as he passed. "Your mom saved us some leftovers from dinner."

Luke followed his dad and Quinn into the kitchen, but his thoughts were still on the mysterious girl that had apparently stolen his brother's heart. Jack had never even mentioned a Sadie before and suddenly she was at the lake house. It all felt off.

~~

Sadie woke up feeling as sweaty as ever. The house had AC but Jack was like a personal heater and somehow they'd ended up spooning at some point in the night. There was a thin layer of sweat between her back and Jack's chest and she felt disgusting.

Groaning quietly, she pulled herself out of his grip, using her shirt to wipe her back. Jack was still fast asleep, the duvet kicked around his feet. Typical. Jack could sleep through a fucking earthquake.

She swung her legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom, hoping a splash of cold water would make her feel more like herself. She thought about what Jack had said last night--about how nobody would figure them out. But staring at herself in the mirror, she felt like it was written all over her face.

She didn't belong here.

She threw on the first clothes she could find, a pair of jean shorts and one of Jack's many Devils t-shirts. By the time she made her way downstairs, the kitchen was already bustling. Ellen was preparing breakfast while Jim sat at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Sadie! Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks," she forced a smile.

"Jack still asleep?"

"Out cold."

Ellen chuckled, shaking her head. "Sounds about right."

Sadie smiled, but before she could respond, the sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention. She turned just as Luke appeared in the doorway, fresh from a morning run, judging the sweat on his forehead and the way his grey shirt clung to his torso.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Luke's eyes landed on her, sharp and curious. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was sizing her up--not in a rude way, but in a way that made her stomach flip uncomfortably.

"You must be Sadie," he made his way further into the kitchen. "I'm Luke."

"Yeah," she extended her hand to him. "Nice to meet you."

Luke shook her head, his grip firm but brief. His blue eyes lingered on hers for a second longer than she expected before he pulled away, glancing towards the coffeemaker.

"You're the one who got Jack all domestic?" he teased, grabbing a mug. "Didn't see that coming."

She laughed softly, "I don't know about 'domestic,' but... I guess I'm the one who convinced him to bring me here."

Luke smirked, like he wasn't entirely buying it. "Yeah. I guess."

Sadie got cut off again, but this time by Quinn entering the room. "Ah, so this is the famous Sadie! Nice to finally put a face to the name."

Thank God for Quinn.

~~

Sadie sat on the dock, her feet dangling over the water, her book open on her lap. Jack and Quinn had gone to get the boat from the marina and Sadie had taken the opportunity to relax a bit.

She had laid a towel under her, Jack's t-shirt removed because she was not about to get a farmer's tan. She was basking in the sun, feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on her extremely pale skin. The world around her disappearing as she flipped through the novel. She was really enjoying it until she came to a parapgraph about suspicion. It took her right back to her interaction with Luke that morning. It was like he saw right through her, could sense all the cracks in her story. She had to be careful, maybe Luke was smarter than he seemed.

But footsteps on the dock behind her broke her train of thought. She glanced over her should, expecting to see that either Jack or Quinn had returned with the car from the marina, but it was Luke. He wasn't in the workout clothes he'd been wearing earlier, now dressed in a white t-shirt and board shorts, clearly ready for a swim.

"You mind if I join?" Luke asked, the same playful charm in his voice that Jack carried.

"Sure, it's your family's dock after all."

Luke smirked, dropping a towel beside her before sitting down, his legs also hanging over the water. He didn't say anything for awhile, just stared out over the water. Sadie went back to reading, well now she was pretending to read, her main focus being on how closely he was sitting next to her.

"So," he broke the silence. "How'd you and Jack meet?"

There it was--more lying about her and Jack. Sadie knew Luke was already suspicious of her, so she had to play her cards right. She looked up from her book, trying to keep her body language calm. "Friends. Some of his, uh, his friends go to school with me. So..."

"Friends, huh?" He was testing her, waiting for her to trip up.

"Yeah, like slow burn," she shrugged. "We hung out with a big group of friends first. You know how it goes."

Luke was silent for a moment, staring down at the waves lapping the dock. "Yeah, I guess, I do. Jack's never mentioned you before."

Sadie felt her stomach lurch, but she forced a smile. "Well, we kept things on the down-low for a while. Just us. It's still... kinda new."

"Makes sense," Luke's tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced. He shifted, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out at the lake again. "Just seems strange, I guess. Jack never brings girls here. And then... suddenly, you."

"I guess I'm just lucky," she swallowed harshly.

For a moment, she thought he might say something else--might press her further--but instead, he stood up and grabbed his towel.

"I'll leave you to it. Nice talking, Sadie," he walked off, completely disregarding the fact that he had clearly come out to swim. She just watched him retreat. It was clear he didn't trust her, hopefully Jack could fix that. She didn't need him figuring anything out before the trip was over. That was certain.

~~

The sound of the boat engine humming across the water was the perfect background noise on a sunny afternoon. Sadie sat on the edge, occasionally letting her fingers trail through the lake below. Jack was steering them out to the centre of the water, Quinn sat up front basking in the sun, and Luke leaned casually against the small railing on the side.

"You ever driven one of these?" Luke asked, nodding towards the steering wheel.

Sadie looked over to Jack, who was too busy concentrating on his driving to respond. She smirked, "Jack never lets anyone take the wheel. He likes to be in control."

Quinn laughed, "Sounds about right. Captain Jack, over here. Watch out Sadie or he might start asking you to call him that."

"Don't give him any ideas," she groaned, flicking her gaze back to Jack. She really hoped that the banter seemed real and not forced.

"You love it, Sades! You're just mad because you can't even drive a car for shit."

"Hey! You've never given me a chance on a boat," she shot back, standing up and making her way to Jack.

"I think I have a good reason."

Sadie placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in closer as she laughed. It felt so strange to have to be so physically close to Jack on purpose, but she was learning to fake it well. "Maybe I'll surprise you one day."

Quinn chuckled, "Honestly, Rowdy, give her a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She crashes into the dock?" Jack raised an eyebrow, still smirking, one of his hands casually finding it's way around Sadie's bare waist. She stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed quickly after reminding herself to play the part.

"I'm more worried about you crashing into the dock," Sadie shot back.

Luke, who had been silently observing the whole ordeal, cracked a grin. "She's probably better at steering than you think, Jack. You're just a control freak."

Sadie stole a glance, glad to see Luke was no longer sending any weird looks her way.

"Alright, fine," Jack sighed, turning the wheel just slightly to change course. "Maybe I'll let you drive next time. If you're lucky."

Quinn snorted, "If she's lucky? You mean if she gives you head?"

Sadie's jaw dropped, but all three Hughes brothers started laughing like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. God, she'd never understand men.

~~

The boat had been anchored and Sadie sat with Jack near the edge. Luke and Quinn were busy talking about who could pull off a better dive, leaving the 'couple' alone.

Sadie lowered her voice, looking around to see if the other boys were listening. "Jack, I think Luke is catching on."

"Catching on? What're you talking about?"

Sadie sighed. "Earlier today, he was asking me all these questions. It felt like he was suspicious. Like he knows this whole thing is all an act."

Jack chuckled, knocking his shoulder with hers. "Sades, he's just messing with you. Trust me, he's not suspicious of anything. That's just how he is. He's probably giving you a hard time because he knows it'll get under your skin."

She bit her lip, not fully convinced. "I don't know... I don't want him to say something to your parents or--"

"Relax," he softly grabbed her hand. "It's going fine. They all like you, and no one is doubting anything. Promise."

Sadie looked around again, but Quinn and Luke were now splashing each other in the water. "I guess you're right. I'm probably just overthinking shit."

"Exactly. Now, where's the Sadie I know? I'm not a fan of this anxious, worrywart. Where's the flirty, confident, almost scary Sadie that I became friends with?"

She just shook her head, a real smile making its way across her face. Jack leaned back, stretching his arms behind him. "Come on, Sades. Let's make the most of this. Summer is supposed to be funnnn."

"Okay," she giggled. "Let's have some fun."

She quickly stood up and cannon-balled into the lake. Luke and Quinn cheered her on, as Jack shook his head and laughed. "There's my girl!"

~~

Sadie, Jack, Luke, and Quinn sat on deck chairs around the firepit, drinks in hand. It had been a long day spent out on the water, but the fun wasn't over just yet. The laughter was now coming even easier than before with the addition of alcohol.

Sadie leaned heavily into Jack's side, his arm draped over her shoulders, her head resting on him. She finally felt like herself, carefree. Jack's closeness didn't feel awkward anymore; it felt natural, or maybe that was just the alcohol.

"Alright, Sadie," Quinn said, his speech slurred slightly. "I gotta know what it's like dating Jack? He's gotta be a pain in the ass."

"Oh, you have no idea," she teased. "He thinks he's funny. Most of the time, he's just annoying."

Jack gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his free hand. "Wow. You wound me, Sades. I'm hilarious."

"Debatable," she quipped, running her fingers along the seam of his shirt as she settled against him more comfortably.

"Okay, but for real," Luke piped up, "how'd you two even get together? I don't think Jack has ever brought a girl here."

She glanced at Jack, who winked at her before answering.

"It just happened, I guess. We were hanging out with a group of friends, like I told you guys, and then one day... I just knew she was the one for me."

"Oh, you knew, huh? That's not how I remember it," Sadie giggled.

"What's your version, Sadie?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Well... Jack was chasing after me for months, trying to get me to go out with him. I was playing hard to get."

Jack cackled, "That's not how it went."

"It's exactly how it went," she shot back, her voice full of confidence. "He practically begged me to go on a date with him."

Luke and Quinn were in stitches, the banter between her and Jack clearly entertaining them. Sadie felt so much more like herself. The earlier tension she felt from Luke's questions had melted away with the first sip of vodka.

Just as Sadie was about to make another joke at Jack's expense, the sound of footsteps cruncing against gravel caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see a figure making their toward them. Sadie tensed.

It had to be that neighbour girl that Jack had warned her about. The whole reason this shit was happening.

The girl strutted up to the firepit, her eyes locking on Jack like he was the only person there. She didn't even acknowledge Sadie's presence, instead giving Jack a flirtatious smile as she drew closer.

"Well, well," her tone was sugary sweet. "Didn't know you were back in town, Jack."

Sadie felt Jack also tense beside her, but he didn't move his arm from her shoulders. He smiled politely, but there was no mistaking the discomfort in his eyes. "Yes, Natalie, we're here every summer."

The girl, Natalie, flicked her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder. "It's been a while. You should come over sometime. We could... catch up."

Sadie could tell from the girl's body language that she wasn't taking no for an answer. Natalie's obvious attempt to flirt with Jack was so blatant, it was almost laughable. It would've been laughable if it wasn't so goddamn irritating.

Luke and Quinn exchanged amused glances.

Sadie straightened up, pushing her body closer to Jack's. "He's a little busy right now," Sadie's voice was low but firm.

"Oh, I'm sure Jack can make time. Can't you, Jacky?"

Sadie's blood boiled. Natalie wasn't getting the message. She glanced at Jack, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, then made a quick decision. Without hesitation, Sadie reached up, grabbed Jack's face in both hands, and pulled him into a kiss. Not a soft, delicate one, but a full-on, heated make out session that left no room for misinterpretation. She was making sure that everyone knew who Jack belonged to.

Jack responded immediately, his hands moving to rest on her waist as he kicked her back, clearly caught up in the moment. It was all part of the act, but Sadie could feel the passion in it, the alcohol blurring the line between fake and real.

When she pulled away, breathless and bright red, she didn't even look at Jack. She instead kept her gaze locked on Natalie, who was staring at them in stunned silence.

"Like I said," Sadie's voice was full of cool confidence, "he's busy."

Natalie's face twisted into a scowl, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She shot Jack and Sadie one last frustrated look before scoffing and turning on her heel, storming off into the night like a child throwing a tantrum.

Quinn let out a low whistle. "Damn, Sadie. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"That was brutal," Luke agreed.

She shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "She wasn't getting it. Had to make it clear."

Jack, still recovering from the intensity of the kiss, grinned down at her. "You sure did."

~~

The room spun slightly as Sadie fumbled with the zipper on her shorts, still giggling about how the night had unfolded. Jack leaned against the door, watching her with a lazy grin, the alcohol still buzzing in his system.

"That kiss though," Jack teased, his voice slurred as he kicked off his shoes. "You really sold it, Sades. I think you scared Natalie away for life."

"Good," she smirked, peeling off her shorts and tossing them aside, not bothering with modesty. She started tugging her t-shirt over her head. "She wasn't getting the hint. Had to go for the kill."

Jack's eyes flickered to her as she changed, the casualness of it all catching him off guard. He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry as he tried not to stare. Sadie, half-naked, standing there like it was nothing--it was making his head spin even more than it already was.

He blinked, knowing he shouldn't have been distracted like that, especially when they were just playing pretend. But Sadie didn't seem to notice nor care. She was sat on the bed, running her hands through her hair, her laughter replaced by a serious expression.

"Jack. I was actually really nervous... earlier. With meeting your parents, then Luke asking all those questions, and then fucking Natalie showed up."

Jack shook off his drunken haze. He sat down beside her, trying to focus on her words and the fact that her skin was glowing under the light in the room. "Nervous? You seemed to have it under control out there."

"I was faking. Well, partly. Thought maybe Luke's questions about us were to find holes or that Quinn was part of his plan."

"Sades, I'm not sure how many times I have to tell you. Nobody is suspicious."

"I just didn't want to mess this up for you. The whole fake dating thing--it's for you, and I didn't want to fuck it all up by being... weird."

"You weren't weird. You were amazing. And that kiss? I think you might have convinced me we're really dating."

"So... no one's doubting?"

Jack shook his head, his hand brushing gently against her back. "Nope. That kiss probably wiped away any doubts that Quinn or Luke might've had. You sold it. Hell, I think Luke might've been jealous."

She smirked at the thought, "Yeah? Jealous, huh?"

Jack grinned, leaning his forehead against hers. "Definitely. You've got nothing to worry about now. We've got this."

There was a quiet moment between them. The alcohol buzz still hanging in the air, but it was softer now, replaced by something warmer, more intimate. Jack's hand slid up to her shoulder, his touch gentle as he pulled her closer.

"I'm really glad you're here."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. "Me too."

They lay back on the bed, neither bothering to change further. Jack's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his side as she snuggled against him. The steady rise and fall of Jack's chest beneath her cheek, lulling her to sleep.

~~

Jack and Quinn were gone for the day, some sort of offseason training session by some bigshot NHL personal trainer. The guy hadn't invited Luke, so he was stuck at the house with Sadie and his parents.

Sadie was stretched out on a towel in the backyard, basking in the sunshine, her earbuds playing some soft country music. She was enjoying her peaceful solitude.

Or so she thought.

When she turned her head slightly to adjust her sunglasses, she caught a glimpse of Luke standing on the back porch. He was leaning against the railing, looking right at her. His eyes flickered away as soon as she spotted him, but it was too late. Sadie had seen him staring.

A mischievous grin tugged at her lips.

Caught you.

Deciding to have a little fun with it, Sadie flipped onto her front, resting her chin on her folded arms. Then, with a playful smirk, she reached behind her and undid the knot on her bikini top, letting it fall loose against the towel beneath her. Luke couldn't actually see shit, but she thought it was hilarious to tease him.

After a few beats of silence, Sadie couldn't help but sneak a peek in his direction. Luke was still on the porch, but his posture was tense, clearly flustered. His eyes darted between her and the lake, like he wasn't sure where to look.

She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Oh, this is too good.

Satisfied with the teasing, she casually rolled back onto her back and retyed her top like nothing had happened. Then she stood up, grabbing her book and towel, she sauntered back inside with a smirk tugging at her lips. She didn't need to look back to know there were still a set of blue eyes staring at her.

~~

Luke wandered into the living room, hesitating briefly at the door before walking to Sadie on the couch. His hair was still slightly damp from a dip in the lake, and he seemed almost more relaxed without Jack and Quinn there.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?"

"Go for it," she replied, looking up from her book. She shifted over to make space for him.

Luke sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back in an attempt to look casual. It didn't work and Sadie could still feel the tension in the air. She knew Luke was flustered about the whole backyard situation and she found it fucking hilarious.

"You're always reading," he remarked, nodding towards the book in her hands. "What is it this time?"

She raised an eyebrow and flipped the book around so he could see the cover. "I'm not 'always' reading. You've caught me reading twice. And it's just something to kill time. You know, since your brother is off pretending he's a celebrity."

"Yeah, Jack's like that. Always pretending he's the best," Luke chose to ignore her remark about him only seeing her reading twice.

"Must've been annoying growing up with him," Sadie teased.

"Oh, it was. But he's alright. Could've been worse."

The conversation continued easily from there, their voices filling the silent house with stories about their childhoods, embarrassing moments, and life in general. Luke found himself relaxing more and more as Sadie talked. She was sharp, funny, and this special energy that drew him in. The confident, teasing girl from the backyard was showing her soft side and he could see why Jack was head over heels in love with her,

Sadie yapped about her life in university, the friends she had back home in Jersey, and even some wild stories from a girls' trip to New York. Luke listened, hanging off of every word. She was cool, and not in a superficial way, but genuinely cool. She wasn't just Jack's girlfriend. She was Sadie. And she was amazing.

But with that realization came guilt.

He watched her laugh as she told a funny story, and Luke felt the pull growing inside him. He was really starting to like her. Maybe too much.

This was Jack's girlfriend. He shouldn't feel that way about Jack's girlfriend.

He knew it was wrong, but he made no effort to distance himself from her. Instead, he found himself drawn to her more and more, wanting to sit there with her, to hear her laugh again, to see the smirk that covered her face when she teased him.

"So, how about you?" she asked, snapping him from this thoughts. "What's it like being the baby? Bet Jack gave you hell."

"They both did. But especially Jack. He never, ever let me forget I was the youngest. Always had to one-up me."

"Sounds like Jack," she grinned, and Luke's smile faltered at the lovestruck look on her face at the meer mention of Jack. "Bet you're giving it right back now."

"I try." There was a brief lull in conversation and the silence that followed felt like it was charged with electricity.

Sadie held his gaze a beat longer than she should have before breaking the eye contact with a playful smile. "Well, if you ever need any tips on how to outsmart Jack, I've got plenty."

"I might just have to take you up on that."

~~

The sun lay low in the late afternoon sky making the lake look like it was sparkling. Sadie and Luke stood by the water's edge, still filling in the quiet hours without Jack and Quinn.

Sadie grinned, nudging Luke with her elbow. "Bet you can't beat me in a water fight."

"You're on."

Without warning, Sadie walked off into the water, her laugh echoing as she turned around to splash Luke. He barely had time to react before a wave of water was hitting his lower legs.

"Oh, it's like that?" Luke laughed, taking off after her.

It didn't take long before they were having a full-on war, splashing each other mercilessly. Sadie couldn't stop laughing as Luke chased her through the water. After on particularly good splash, she tried to swim away, but Luke caught up to her, his hands gripping her waist as he tried to dunk her. Sadie squealed in protest, kicking her legs.

"Let go, you cheater!" she giggled, twisting in his grip.

Luke grinned, he really liked how infectous her laugh was. But as they wrestled in the water, something shifted. His hands lingered on her waist longer than they should have. Her skin was riddled in goosebumps from the cold water, but still felt smooth under this touch, and suddenly the playful moment didn't seem quite as innocent.

Shit.

Sadie, still in the middle of laughing and trying to escape his hold, didn't seem to notice the change in him. She was completely carefree, seeing the moment for what it was--a game. But Luke wasn't feeling it anymore. His throat felt tight and pulse picked up.

His hands were still on her waist.

Luke's breath hitched, and before she could turn around and see the look on his face, he let go, stumbling backward in the water.

"You good? You're not giving up already, are you?"

Luke forced a chuckle, but it came out sounding way more like a cough. "Uh, yeah, I--uh, I think I've had enough."

Without waiting for her response, he quickly waded out of the water and back onto the shore. The evening breeze did nothing to cool his flustered state.

Sadie was still in the water, floating on her back with a smile on her face. "Aw, come on!"

He just mumbled something incoherent, grabbed his towel, and hurried back into the house without even looking her way.

~~

Luke rushed past his parents in the kitchen, heading straight for his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and flopped down onto the bed, shoving his face in a pillow. He wanted to scream, but even the pillow wouldn't muffle the sound enough from anyone downstairs.

I'm attracted to her.

The thought hit him like a freight train, the words echoing over and over again like a prayer. It wasn't just some innocent crush. He was undeniably, painfully attracted to Sadie--his brother's girlfriend.

How had he let it get this far? She was dating Jack. She was Jack's girlfriend. And yet, anytime she laughed or smiled at him, Luke felt like a fucking high schooler.

He couldn't stop it, couldn't ignore it anymore.

He hadn't meant to hold her like that in the water. It was meant to be just a harmless game, but he had taken it too far in his mind. Sadie, however, hadn't even seemed to notice. Maybe she did and she was just ignoring it. Surely that was it.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Luke," he cursed himself, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was how perfect she had looked in that moment.

The worst part of all? He didn't want to stop feeling that way.

Even as the guilt knawed at him, he couldn't bring himself to want to distance from her. Being around Sadie felt good. It felt natural. And that scared him even more.

Suddenly, he heard laughter from the hallway outside his door. Luke froze, listening as Jack's voice joined in, low and teasing, followed by Sadie's giggles.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the guilt. But then there was a pause in the laughter. He could picture what was happening. The way that Jack was looking at Sadie. The that Sadie was looking back up at Jack with a smile on her face, maybe teasing him.

Then... the sound of a kiss broke the silence. It was soft, but it might as well have been the loudest thing that Luke had ever heard. His stomach twisted, and he tried to shove his face further into the pillow, but it was no use the couple was back to laughing.

This is wrong. It's all wrong. But as wrong as he knew it was, he couldn't deny the truth.

He was falling for Sadie. And he was falling for Sadie... hard.

~~

The whole family and Sadie were gathered around the pool table, Jim and Ellen watching from the corner, while the "kids" took their turns at the competetive game that had started.

Sadie was standing next to Jack, leaning against the wall with a gin and tonic, that her "boyfriend" had made her, in her hand. She was watching Quinn line up his shot, her eyes crinkling as she laughed about whatever it was that Jack was whispering to her about. Jack had his arm draped over her shoulders, pulling her closer as she laughed. They looked so comfortable. So perfect.

Luke stood across from them, gripping his pool cue so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Every laugh that Jack and Sadie shared, every playful nudge, felt like a stab to his gut.

"Alright, Sades, your go," Jack kissed her cheek before handing her a cue.

She leaned over the table, lining up her shot with Jack standing behind her, offering a few "helpful" tips. His hand rested on her lower back, guiding her aim. Quinn looked over at Luke, raising his eyebrows as if to say "look how suggestive he's being."

Luke just shook his head, trying to focus on the game. But all he could think about was how close and touchy they were being. And how it made his stomach churn with something that he could only guess was jealousy.

Fuck, it was so messed up.

"Luke, it's your turn," Quinn called.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right," he blinked, shaking his head. He stepped up to the table, trying to compose himself as he lined up his shot. He missed it by a mile, the ball ricocheting off the side with a loud thunk.

"Wow, nice one, Rusty," Jack teased.

His jaw was clenched, "Guess I'm just off tonight."

Sadie didn't even notice, giggling as Jack asked for her opinion on their next move. Why were they acting like they were the only ones in the room? Was nobody else finding it annoying? Luke glanced at his mom. She was smiling at the young couple, a lovestruck look on her face. Maybe he was the only one that found it annoying.

~~

Sadie lay sprawled across Jack's bed, her phone held loosely in her hand as she scrolled through texts from her friends back home. Jack was in the shower, insisting he wash the lake water off his body. She had some time to kill and her friends, that weren't her friend group with Jack, were ready to gossip.

The Hottest Girls in Jersey Sadie, Alex, and Carly

Carly: Soooo, how's it going with Mr. NHL?? Alex: yeah, girl. spill. is he, like, actually boyfriend material or are you just having a hot ass summer fling??

Sadie rolled her eyes at their messages, biting her lip as she thought of her reply.

Sadie: it's... complicated Carly: Ugh, isn't it always lol Alex: we need details, sades. what's complicated? the sex? the family? Sadie: family's cool. his mom is like super sweet. and his brothers are... yeah Carly: Oh, brothers, huh? Now you like reallyyyyy need to spill

Sadie hesitated, glancing towards the bathroom door. She could still hear Jack humming to himself while the water ran. No way he was gonna come out and read her messages any time soon.

Sadie: okay, fine. it's not really jack. it's luke Carly: LUKE?! Alex: WAIT. WHAT. HIS BROTHER LUKE?! Sadie: yep. younger brother, but soooooo much more my type Carly: Girllllll, you're bad Alex: hold the fucking phone. is this the guy we're talking about here? what's wrong with jack, then? isn't he like the only reason you're there?

She chuckled to herself, it did kinda sound insane when she typed it all out.

Sadie: jack's great. don't get me wrong. but, luke... he's like more quiet. jack's more playful and sassy, but idk... plus i love a boy with curly hair Carly: You're catching feelings for his brother??? Holy shit, girl Alex: lmao this is legit some CW ass drama

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe it was a little ridiculous, but it was true. Luke was more her type. He was tall, not that Jack wasn't tall, but Luke was tall. He had the cutest nose and the best curls she'd ever seen. Jack was fun. Jack was easy. But Luke...

Sadie: it's not that deep. but yeah, ig i'm more into luke than jack Carly: Oooo Alex: you're fake dating jack tho, right? like what's the plan here?? Sadie: i don't fucking know!!! nothing's happened with luke, obviously. but like next time we're alone? i might see what happens ;) Carly: You are fucking INSANE, Sadie!!! Alex: if you're that desperate, you've got Jack right there...

She laughed out loud at Alex's message. She was definitely not desperate, but she still glanced to the bathroom door. The water had stopped. Jack would be out any second.

Sadie: trust me, i'm not desperate. luke's gonna be the move

Just as she hit send, Jack emerged from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips.

"Texting the girls?" he ran a hand through his wet hair.

She slipped her phone under the pillow, a playful smile on her face. "Yeah, they were asking about you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, falling down onto the bed next to her. "All good things, I hope?"

She snorted, "Guess you'll never know."

He rolled his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Whatever. You were probably telling them how much of a stud I am."

Sadie smirked, though her mind was still buzzing with the excitement of what she'd just admitted to her friends. Jack had no idea, and honestly? That just made it even more thrilling.

~~

Jack bounded into the living room, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. Sadie was sat on the couch, scrolling passively through Instagram, while Luke stood in the kitchen chugging a glass of water.

"I'm headed to the rink for a few hours," Jack announced, slapping his hand on the back of the couch, full of energy. "Got a little off-season workout with Q and some of the guys."

"A workout?" Sadie quirked an eyebrow. "You never stop, do you?

"That's what makes me so irrresistible, babe." He shot her a wink before turning to Luke. "You busy?"

Luke wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, setting down his glass. "Not really."

"Why don't you keep her company? You guys should hang out. Show her around town or something."

Luke flushed, his eyes flickering to Sadie, who was sat with an amused smile on her face. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Perfect!" Jack leaned down and kissed Sadie's cheek. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try," she giggled, leaning into his touch but keeping her eyes on Luke.

"See you later! Have fun!"

And just like that Jack was gone.

"Well, looks like it's just us again," Sadie said, stretching dramatically.

"Yeah, guess so."

Sadie stood from the couch, tapping her finger against her lips as if she was thinking. "You know what we should do?"

"What?"

"Go for a swim! It's hot out, and the lake looks amazing."

Luke hesitated. He wasn't sure he could handle that again. But before he could come up with an excuse, Sadie was heading toward the back door.

"Come on! Don't make me swim alone. I might drown."

By the time he made it down to the dock, Sadie was standing at the edge, her back to him as she looked out over the water. She had stripped down to her bikini--a simple black one that fit her like a glove.

Luke shook his head. He had no right to stare. Jack's girlfriend, not his. Get a grip.

"Took you long enough, Luke. Thought you were going to bail on me."

"Just... taking my time." He managed a weak laugh.

"Uh-huh." She dipped her toe in the lake, testing the temperature. "Water feels amazing. Bet I can beat you in."

She dove in without even waiting for an answer. She resurfced a few feet out, shaking the water from her hair and grinning at him. "What're you waiting for?"

Luke hesitated for just a second longer before diving in after her. The shock of the cool water cleared his head. That was until he surfaced and saw Sadie floating nearby, her hair splayed around her like a halo.

"See? Told you it feels amazing."

He swam a bit closer, but decided to keep his distance. "Yeah, guess you were right."

Sadie flipped onto her stomach, treading water as she swam to him. "Relax." She nudged her shoulder with his. "You look so tense."

Her tone was light, but the promixity of them felt almost dangerous. "I am relaxed."

"Bullshit. You look like the tensest motherfucker ever," she splashed him, the water hitting him square in the face. "Come on. Loosen up."

Luke sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes. "Oh, it's gonna be like that, huh?"

"Just sayin'... life's too short to be serious all the time," her hand brushed his arm as she floated by, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, casual, but it still made it so he couldn't think straight. He wanted to keep his distance, but she wasn't making it easy in the slightest.

"You and I should do this more often," she mused.

"What? Swim?"

She scoffed, "No. Hang out."

Was she messing with him? Or was she being serious? He couldn't tell with her. Her teasing had been light and innocent until now. Now every word that left her mouth felt like it had a second meaning.

"I... I don't know."

What kind of shit response was that? God, he looked like an idiot.

She swam closer to him, stopping when she was right in front of his face. "You don't know? I think you do, Luke."

He could feel her leg brushing against his and his whole body felt like it was one fire despite the cool water. He should've pulled back, but he couldn't. He was frozen.

"Ha! You're cute when you're flustered."

For a moment, he felt himself lean in, as if there was an invisible force pulling him to her. But just as quickly, Sadie pulled away, climbing back onto the dock and swaying her hips as she headed back to the house, leaving the boy completely flabbergasted.

~~

Jim and Ellen had left for a special dinner out and Jack had quickly suggested a game night, complete with alcohol and whatever games they could find in the basement. Luke had agreed, only because he knew he could drink, and that might make being in the same room as Sadie more bearable.

"Alright, team," Jack tossed a can of beer to Luke, who caught it without looking "Game night is on. Hope you're ready to lose, Qball."

"Yeah, yeah. You always say that, but I'm the one who wins."

"You guys don't stand a chance. Right, babe?" Sadie grinned up at Jack.

"You bet. Dream team right here."

Luke looked at them, all snuggled up together. He blinked a few times before chugging the rest of his beer. Jack laughed, "Alright, Lukey." He tossed him another one, getting ready to explain the rules of the game.

By the third round, Jack had pulled Sadie into his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist like a seatbelt. They were laughing, whispering inside jokes, and exchanging kisses, acting like they were the only people in the room.

Luke tried to focus on the game, but he found himself looking up to see Sadie running her fingers through Jack's hair, her other hand squeezing his thigh.

He wanted to believe that she had meant something by the little act she'd put on at the lake. But seeing her all over Jack made him feel like he'd never been so wrong. She was clearly into Jack. She didn't mean anything by it. She's just... being friendly.

So why did it feel like more?

"Can you guys like chill?" Quinn spoke up. "We're trying to play a game, not watch you two make out."

"Oh, come on, Quinn. We're just having fun," Sadie giggled.

"Yeah, don't be a buzzkill," Jack added, pressing kisses to her neck.

"There's having fun, and then there's..." Quinn paused, his voice laced with annoyance. "You're practically having sex in front of us."

"Jealous?"

"No, Luke and I just don't wanna see that."

"Whatever."

"Your turn, Luke."

"Right," he muttered, grabbing the dice and rolling it halfheartedly. The alcohol wasn't helping, dulling his senses and making everything worse. He kept glancing at Sadie, hoping for some sign that she was aware of what she was doing to him, but she didn't even look his way.

The final straw came when Jack, clearly tipsy, pulled Sadie in for a long, slow kiss right in the middle of Quinn's turn. Jack and Sadie were known by their friends for their drunk kisses, but his brothers really didn't want to see it.

"I'm done. You two aren't even playing!" Quinn threw his hands up.

"Fine, fine. We'll stop! Happy now?"

"No. I'm going to bed before I see something even worse."

"Uh, yeah, me too. Night guys," Luke nodded, following his oldest brother.

"Bedtime?" Jack laughed.

"Yeah, bedtime, I guess."

~~

Luke hadn't gone to bed. He couldn't sleep. His brain wouldn't shut up. It had been a couple hours since game night had ended and he felt more sober than he was before he started drinking. Maybe he was insane. Maybe Sadie had driven him to his breaking point. She was so goddamn confusing. And--

"Hey."

"What're you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with Jack?"

She shrugged, closing the sliding door behind her. "He's passed out. I wanted to come find you."

"Sadie, you really shouldn't--"

"I know what you're going to say. But I think you're wrong."

"Wrong?"

Sadie moved in, her hand reaching for his, her fingers tracing along his wrist. "You're overthinking things, Luke."

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her face inches from his, her lips so close he could feel her breath. He should've pulled away. He should've told her to stop.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Instead, Luke closed the gap between them, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, longing kiss.

She kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. Her touch sent sparks through his body. But those sparks made reality set in.

He pulled away, his chest heaving. "No. This is wrong."

"What?"

"You need to stop," he stood up suddenly, almost making Sadie fall over. His voice was full of anger. "This... this whole thing is fucked up, Sadie. You're Jack's girlfriend."

She stared at him for a second or two before, to Luke's surprise, she started laughing.

"What the hell is so funny?" Luke snapped. "I'm going to tell him. I'm going to tell Jack everything. He needs to know what you've been doing."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Jack and I aren't really together."

"What... what do you mean?"

Sadie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's fake. The whole thing--it's just an act."

"An act? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jack needed me to play the part of his girlfriend for the summer," Sadie explained, her tone casual as if everything she was saying was normal. "Natalie, the neighbour girl. She's obsessed with Jack. And she won't take no for answer. So he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend so she'd leave him alone."

"So... this is all fake?"

"Yep. We've just been playing the part, that's all."

"But... you guys... you were kissing. You're all over each other."

Sadie shrugged, her smile turning sheepish. "That... that's just something that happens when we drink. No big deal."

"No big deal? You guys were making out in front of us, and you're saying it doesn't mean anything?"

"Exactly. Jack and I are close friends. That's all it is. No feelings involved," her tone was so matter-of-fact it made Luke's stomach churn. "All for show. We figured the more real it looks, the less people will question it."

"So... you don't have feelings for him?"

"For Jack? No. We're friends. Nothing more. We've been friends since he joined the Devils. And yeah, we get a bit... affectionate when we drink. But it's never been serious."

"Then why... why were you flirting with me?"

"Because, Luke... you're the definition of my type." She reached out and brushed her hand against his cheek. "Didn't think it was that hard to figure out."

"But Jack..."

"Jack doesn't care," she cut him off. "He's the one that suggested I hang out with you more. He's clueless. He only cares that I keep Natalie away from him."

"So this whole time, you've been..."

"I've been flirting with you. And you've been trying soooo hard to resist. It's kinda cute."

He had been so sure that what he felt was wong--so convinced that he was betraying Jack. Now... now he didn't know what to think.

"This is... this is insane."

"Maybe. But it's also kinda fun. Don't ya think?"

Luke didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond to that. Everything he thought he understood had just been flipped upside down, and now he was standing there with Sadie--Jack's not-so-girlfriend--who had just admitted she'd been flirting with him for days. Part of him wanted to kiss her again. The other part was screaming at him to stop because even if they weren't dating, it still felt like he was lying to his brother.

"I... I don't know what to do."

"Don't have to do anything. Just think about it, I guess. I'm not going anywhere. Jack's got me stuck here for a while."

She winked, turning toward the door, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts once again.

~~

Jack was up, chatting with his parents over breakfast, Sadie sat next to him looking as carefree as ever. Luke was watching her silently from across the room, his mug of coffee in his grip.

She glanced over at him and smiled like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. And Luke knew he needed to talk to her. He hated pretending things were normal when they weren't. His mind was playing the kiss on repeat and the way she'd admitted her relationship with Jack was just for show.

It all felt like a weird dream.

When Jack got up to grab some more cereal, Luke saw his chance.

"Sadie," he whispered, "can we talk? Alone?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack who was now rummaging through the fridge for some milk. "Sure. Lead the way."

Once they were inside Luke's room, Sadie leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "What's up? I see Mr. Serious is back."

"I just... I need to understand how this is supposed to work. The whole thing with Jack. You and me. All of it."

"What's there to understand? Jack's clueless. He doesn't know anything. Not that he'd care anyway."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is," she shrugged. "You're overcomplicating it."

"I don't know if I can keep this up. It's driving me crazy."

"Is it? Because it didn't seem like you were too hard of a time last night on the porch."

"Fuck it," he muttered.

He grabbed Sadie by the waist, before he could second-guess himself, crashing his lips against hers in a kiss full of pent-up frustration and desire.

Sadie definitely didn't second-guess anything, kissing him back as her hands ran up to his hair. Any boundaries that Luke had tried to build had been torn down, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop.

They stumbled backward, his hands sliding down a bit to her hips. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated with every passing second. The rest of the world melted away, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing as they broke apart just to kiss again.

The bed hit the back of Luke's knees and they collapsed onto it, lips still locked. For one of the first times since Luke had met Sadie, he wasn't busy thinking about right or wrong. He wasn't thinking about Jack or the consequences of his actions. All that mattered was Sadie, the taste of her lips, and how tight her fingers were gripping his hair.

Just as things were about to heat up further, Jack's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.

"Sadie? You up there?"

She pulled back instantly, her lips swollen from the kiss. "Shit," she whispered. "I should... I should go."

Luke didn't say anything, his eyes half-lidded. Sadie stood up, adjusting her shirt and hair as she shot him a smile "Sorry, Luke. Duty calls."

She looked back at him one last time as she opened the door. "This isn't over."

What had he gotten himself into?

~~

It had been a couple days since Sadie and Luke had shared their first kiss, and they'd been sneaking around ever since. Little touches when no one was looking, stolen kisses behind closed doors. The more they got away with, the more daring they became.

That afternoon, Jack had been outside messing around with Quinn by the dock, while Sadie had slipped away, telling Jack she needed to grab something from inside. Luke had been alone in the house, trying to clear his head. But the second Sadie entered the living room, everything went out the window.

And suddenly, they were tangled together on the couch, lips locked. Sadie gripped the front of his t-shirt, tugging gently. It was just them in that moment, tension building higher and higher, and Luke couldn't stop himself from enjoying it.

Then the door slammed.

They pulled apart just in time to see Jack standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. The expression on his face was confused, almost dazed as he stared at them.

"Uh... what the fuck?" His tone was sharp, but not angry--more like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Luke's hands fell away from Sadie as he shot up from the couch, his face flushed. "Jack, I--"

Jack cut him off, pacing the room, his eyes shooting between them as he tried to piece everything together. "How long... how long has this been going on?"

Sadie just waited for Luke to speak.

"Luke, how long?" Jack repeated.

"A couple days. It just... happened."

"A couple days? And you just didn't think to say anything?"

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Jack's attention shifted to Sadie. "Does he know? About us?"

"Yes, Jack. I told him. He knows it's all fake."

"So... you knew? You knew it was fake, so you decided..." Jack gestured wildly between them, pacing again, his hands tugging at his hair. "I don't get it. I don't fucking get it."

"Jack, I didn't mean for any of this to happen--"

"Didn't mean for what to happen? You didn't mean to start sneaking around with my fake girlfriend? Or you didn't mean to fall for her?"

Jack wasn't yelling. He wasn't angry. He just looked... confused. Hurt, maybe? And that just made it all so much worse.

"J, listen. This whole thing--it got out of hand. Luke and I... we didn't plan this. Just happened."

"But you two... were just... you were just making out on the couch! How does that 'just happen?'"

Sadie rolled her eyes, "Just does."

"Clearly! I mean, I thought everything was fine. I thought everyone was just hanging out, and meanwhile, you two are making out on the couch?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. I..."

"I'm not mad. Just... what the hell, guys? I don't understand."

"J, it's not like that. You and I--we're just friends. You know that. This shit with Luke... it's different."

"Different how?"

"Dunno. Just is."

Finally, Jack let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face. "Okay. Okay, fine. You two... you do whatever. I just... I need a minute to process all this."

Sadie opened her mouth to respond, but Jack held up a hand, stopping her. "Seriously, just... gimme a minute. I'll be outside if you need me."

Luke collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands as Jack retreated outside. Could this get any worse?

~~

The rest of the day had been weird and silent. Sadie had spent it journaling and reading, giving both brothers the space that they needed. But as they got ready for bed, things were the most awkward they'd ever been between Jack and Sadie. Jack moved around the room, grabbing his phone charger and tossing it onto his nightstand, while Sadie stood by the dresser, pulling a t-shirt over her head. Neither of them spoke, both waiting for the other to break the silence.

"So... are we going to talk about this?" Sadie finally gave in.

"Talk about what?"

"You know what," she gave him a look. "About you walking in on me and Luke today."

"What's there to talk about? I mean... I get it. You guys--"

"Are you jealous?" she interrupted, her voice timid. "Like, even a little bit?"

Jack blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Jealous?" He furrowed his brow. "No. I don't think so."

"Not even like... deep down?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded, urging him to continue.

"No. I don't feel jealous. I mean, maybe if I did... I'd be way more upset about it all. But.. I dunno. I've only ever seen you as a friend. Same way you see me. A close one, sure, but still... just a friend. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But you were really thrown off earlier, Jack. You seemed so... I dunno.... confused?"

"Yeah. I think it was more just the shock of it, ya know? Didn't expect to walk in and see my brother making out with my fake girlfriend."

She let out a small laugh. "So it's not weird for you? At all?"

"I guess it's weird in the sense that... I knew that you and Luke would get along. I just didn't think you'd get along this well."

"Yeah, I didn't exactly see it coming either."

"But no, I'm not mad or anything. Honestly, I think you and Luke fit each other way better than you and me ever could. I'm just surprised... I guess."

"Surprised how?"

Jack sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I just never thought that... bringing you here would lead to you two... doing whatever this is."

"We haven't really figured it out," she rubbed at her arm.

Sadie climbed into bed first, pulling the covers over herself. Jack followed suit, but as they lay there side by side, for the first time since Sadie had arrived, he made no move to cuddle. No arm draped over her waist. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling.

"You don't want to cuddle tonight?"

Jack hesitated, then sighed for the millionth time that day. "It's just... it feels weird now, I guess. Knowing you've been doing... stuff with Luke. It's different."

Sadie bit her lip, and for the first time she felt that guilt that Luke had been feeling. "Jack... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to get so complicated."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's not like you did anything wrong... really. Things are just different now... that's all."

Jack rolled over, facing the other side of the bed, leaving a noticeable gap between them. Sadie stared at the back of his head for a moment, feelings like she should reach out and say something. But it was too late, Jack was already asleep.

~~

Sadie and Luke sat at the end of the dock. The whole day had been awkward and Sadie felt even more out of place than she had when she first arrived.

"I don't want to make this weird," Sadie said, her voice soft, but her eyes locked with Luke's. "I really like you, but if it's gonna screw up my friendship with Jack... we should stop. We have to."

"I like you too. More than I thought I would. But yeah, this whole thing with Jack... it's too complicated. I don't wanna hurt my brother. I'd feel so guilty."

"We have to end things. It's not fair to him. Or us."

"I don't want to end things though," Luke admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "This... it's not just about the physical stuff to me. I feel something with you, Sadie. Something real."

"I feel it too. But I can't mess up things with Jack, so maybe it's better if we end things now before they get more complicated."

Jack, who had been on his way back inside, had walked past and heard his friend and brother talking. He leaned against a tree, piecing together everything they were saying. His stomach turned. But it wasn't anger. Or jealousy. He wasn't upset. It was relief. Luke and Sadie really liked each other. It wasn't just some sneaky hookup. It wasn't fair to make them feel guilty for something that wasn't even real to begin with.

"Hey."

Sadie and Luke both jumped, practically leaping out of their skin.

"Jack, I--"

"You don't have to explain anything. I heard what you guys were saying. And look, it's fine. You don't have to end whatever this is."

Sadie blinked in surprise. "You're not upset?"

Jack shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "No. I'm not. I'm actually happy for you guys."

"Happy for who?" Ellen's voice joined the conversation.

"Jesus, is everyone listening to us?" Luke whispered to Sadie.

Jim and Quinn were close behind Ellen, also curious to what was happening on the dock.

"Luke and Sadie."

"Luke and Sadie?"

"Yeah, they're in love."

"We're not in--"

"Luke's in love with your girlfriend?" Quinn asked.

"About that..." Sadie rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"Sadie and I aren't really dating. We're friends. Close friends. She was just trying to help me get Natalie off my back. And I was helping her get her parents off her back," Jack admitted.

The family stared at him for a beat, then burst into laughter.

"Are you serious? All this was just to keep Natalie away?"

"Pretty much."

Ellen, still smiling, looked at Sadie and Luke, then back to Jack. "You know, Jack... I thought from the start that Sadie was a better fit for Luke anyway."

"Looks like you this turned out well for everyone," Quinn laughed.

Luke turned to Sadie, sliding his fingers between hers. "So... now that the truth's out... what do you think?"

"I think we've got time to figure it out," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. And finally after weeks of being there, Sadie felt like she belonged.

[yuzurins]

# i’m smitten with the thought of you

itoshi rin x gn!reader. sae and rin don’t have an estranged relationship. childhood friends to (eventual) lovers. crack don’t take this too srsly pls

“rin, say ahh!” you hold out a spoonful of cake in front of his face.

“shut the fuck up.” rin pouts, turning his head away from you.

you snicker, but your hand doesn’t falter. “come on! you know you want it~” you tease, dragging the end of the sentence as if you were talking to a small child.

he keeps his mouth shut, and you gush internally at the fact that he’s blatantly sulking. rin will never beat the allegations for being the cutest boy ever, even if he’s not the same as the sweet little boy you knew years ago.

desperately trying to hold back a laugh, you purse your lips and mimic rin’s little pout. “you used to listen to me much more obediently when you were younger.”

“you-“ you shoved the spoon into his mouth as soon as you get the chance. rin reluctantly complies but is quick to complain after. “that’s foul!”

you raise an eyebrow. “and that’s what the naughty boys get. tsk tsk.”

it’s obvious you don’t understand how wrongly your words could be interpreted by the way your expression stays unwavering. perhaps it was your dense disposition, or the fact that you’ve known rin since he was a kid in preschool.

rin thinks he’s being — and has been — painfully obvious about his feelings, yet you still fail to notice the faint blush creeping onto his face. even sae found out about it, and rin had to fight for his life to defend himself.

“rin. that’s practically incest-“

“oh my god nii-chan, you know that’s not true!”

sae can think you’re like a sibling to him, but rin doesn’t. in fact, he has never. he can’t deny that he’s had a crush on you the moment you were introduced to him as sae’s friend, and though it might seem like it was just puppy love, his current actions can prove that it isn’t.

“and you used to be so well-behaved back then.” you sigh dramatically. “did you know you would stick to me all the time, and get super jealous whenever i did anything with sae?”

the younger boy scoffs, standing up to go get a drink of water to make sure he doesn’t go insane from your ruthless teasing.

“hey! don’t run away!” you smile, eyes twinkling in amusement, as you get up to follow him. “it was really cute, i swear!”

choosing not the humour you, rin continues on with his task (that he could not care less about), humming in response.

you stand next to him and watch, occasionally feeling the need to poke him. starting from his arm, you string a line of pokes all the way up to his face, where you change your stance to pinch his cheek, a frequent action of endearment you used to do when you were younger.

needless to say, you were not expecting rin to grab your hand so promptly. and you most definitely were not expecting him to then lean towards you, not stopping until his face was merely an inch away.

“woah-“ you exhale as you stumble back slightly. he’s close enough for you to study all the details of his face, from the strands of his hair to the sharp curve of his jaw. he towers over you, his broad shoulders wide enough to engulf you completely into his presence. it’s funny, this scene is the complete opposite of what it was like as children, your roles entirely switched.

your breath hitches as his gaze locks onto yours, showing you all his pent-up feelings over the years for the first time. he’s determined, you can tell at least that much, but what surprises you the most is how dilated his pupils are; his eyes are begging to let you know his story, one of his long, endless pining for you, and you only.

it goes without saying you weren’t ignorant enough to overlook the reality that rin grew up, that he’s matured now. would it be cowardly for you to admit that you have indeed taken notice of his feelings at times, but refused to act on them in fear of losing him? what if you were wrong? what if rin didn’t like you that way? there was too much on the line, and you didn’t want to risk every memory you’ve made with him and sae for the past 12 years.

like an unspoken condition between you two, rin also knows the risks. he knows, but he’s so smitten it’s driving him insane. you’re a risk that he’s willing to take, and he’s had his mind made up since the beginning.

“yeah?” he whispers. “how about now?”

dumbstruck, you nod absentmindedly in response. almost like you were under a spell, and rin was the mastermind enchanting you.

rin smirks at the sight of your face heating up and flushing to a light red. “you still think i’m cute, y/n?”

“the cutest ever.” you’re quick to recover, flashing a small smile of your own. shameless, but you refuse to concede now. “care to prove me wrong, itoshi?”

“what the fuck are you two doing in the kitchen, oh my god.” sae deadpans. “rin, please pick and choose a better time to confess your feelings, thanks.”

you jump. rin groans.

“you need to pick and choose a better time to interrupt, THANK YOU.” rin scowls, letting go of your hand. the sudden withdrawal of his warmth disappoints you, but you smile nonetheless hearing their brotherly antics.

sae’s impassive, walking in between the two of you to refill his own water. “you two forgot all about me, i was getting worried that rin might’ve killed y/n or something.”

“as if!” rin rolls his eyes. “get out of here, at least let me finish.”

shooting him a quick side-eye, sae smirks at his little brother. “okay loverboy, just make sure to not make a mess in the kitchen.” and he swiftly makes an exit before any further retaliation.

“i hate him.”

“you know you don’t.”

rin sighs, closing his eyes for a few seconds.“i guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”

you laugh, and grab his hand to play with his fingers, a not very subtle attempt to hide your beet red face. “think it was obvious enough, rinnie.”

his heart throbs at your use of his childhood nickname. “took you long enough.”

“so, will you continue to show me how cute you are?” you ponder as you look up at rin.

“stop treating me like a child, jeez.” and that pout is back onto his face once again. “i’ll show you anything you want, but i’ll make sure you won’t see me as just a cute little boy anymore.”

a/n: this was so crack of me. not proofread btw i wrote this in one sitting. ^_^ @kouyun <3

[sweet-as-an-angel]

The Type of Yandere König Is

Warnings: 18+, Toxic Behaviour, Manipulative Behaviour, Gaslighting, Possessiveness, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Implications of Smut, Toys Mentioned, Degradation, Slut-Shaming, Submissive König, Dominant König, Aftercare, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

SFW

Insanely loyal and loving – wolfishly puppyish in his temperament.

For you, and only you, he shows his soft side; acts of domesticity and kindness are his love language.

Though, he tells you he loves you on a nigh-hourly basis.

“I just can’t seem to stop saying it – I love you !”

He knows you better than you know yourself, and he uses this knowledge to his advantage.

He’ll all but read your mind through subtle physical cues – changes in posture, a shift in the atmosphere, the dilation of your pupils – to do for you what you haven’t even thought of doing yet.

Passing you your drink, cooking you a meal, performing your chores for you – anything you can possibly think of doing or needing, König handles it before you can.

Of course this insatiable need to perform is rooted in love. But it runs much deeper than that.

König needs you – so utterly and unequivocally that it frightens him. And the thought of you leaving and taking his heart with you is infinitely more terrifying to him than having to put his life on the line and indulge in his occupation whenever he’s taken off leave.

König wants you to see that you need him as much as he does you, that you should (and will be) dependent on him not just for your happiness, but for your survival.

This desire to be all that you need becomes especially evident a good year into your relationship; when you trust König more than anyone – more than yourself – he takes that trust and runs with it.

He absolutely gaslights you into believing you’ve misplaced things, done things you haven’t done. While this is a good enough excuse to keep you in the house, he’s not above resorting to most outlandish tales to isolate you further, no matter how ludicrous his ‘reasoning’ may seem.

“You want to go out ? Now ?” he’ll say. “But–” he peeks behind the curtain, looks out the window, “Darling, it’s raining.”

“König, I can hear the sun shining, Köni; it’s not raining.”

And all to keep you dependent on him.

Whether or not you take to König’s lies is up to how much you love him, how well you believe you can live without him.

But just know that, if you ever try to leave him – when you are immune to his persuasion and elusion – König has made people disappear before. And he’ll do it again.

NSFW

This man will be anything you want him to be – it doesn’t matter how demeaning it is.

Whatever mood you’re in, he has something to cater to it.

Cat ears, maid outfit, gags, rope, nipple clamps, whips – you name it, he’s let you use it on him.

So long as you’re enjoying yourself, so is he. 

He literally can’t finish until you do. So for both love and sanity’s sake, he’s a very proficient lover.

Definitely a moaner when he’s subbing – his whines and whimpers are so pretty and breathless that you can hardly believe they come from such a behemoth of a military princess.

This paints König out as a rather submissive breed of boyfriend, which, to the untrained eye, would be a fair observation.

However, you know better. Much better.

But that doesn’t stop you from making ‘mistakes’; little slips of the tongue – or the hand – that make his blood simmer and his eyes narrow, a jagged anger building in the periphery of your day-to-day.

Building and building, a monument that could touch God with the faux patience this man grants you – “One last chance, Engel,” to hold back the monster clawing its way out of König’s body.

Making König jealous or angering him ensures you’re the target of his reprehensible rage for the stretch of night ahead.

And when König snaps, he gets dominant.

Everything you’ve used on him, he uses on you, too.

And he does so without mercy.

Every time he’s topping, he’s got you weeping, sobbing, screaming, begging for more and less at the same time – and more often than not absolutely speechless for the fact that your mind is completely empty by the time he’s halfway through with you.

Definitely degrades you. And he is not gentle with it at all.

“Stupid little whore – filthy fucking slut –” things of that nature.

Treats you as his personal cum dumpster; he just fills you and fills you until you look or sound as if you’re about to burst.

But alas, it matters little how much you tell König you “Can’t take anymore–” because he’ll always find a way to make you take more of him.

“Oh no, Sweetheart, you will take more,” he’ll tell you.

“After all, what good are you to me if you can’t handle my load ?”

The night usually ends with you being bruised and sore and swollen after your excursion with König; marks which hurt to the touch for days afterwards. A deterrent.

However, no matter how badly he roughs you up during your time together, he always makes sure to take care of you afterwards – of any needs, no matter how niche.

And as he’s tucking you into bed, your body unconscious, König hopes that nights like these remind you that you belong to him. And he to you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[mamirhodessxox]

Daddy Dearest <3

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Girl dad!Leon x Mom!Reader

Blue for Leon pink for reader & purple for D/N

Desc: Despite his career path Leon has been developing pretty well to his girl dad life & revolves entirely around world around his wife & sweet little angel babygirl

Tags: Tooth Aching fluff, Dilf Leon, No smut ‼️‼️‼️, Just dad Leon living his dream! No use of y/n, D/n stands for Daughters Name

I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated!!!

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Leon Loving his life was an understatement, He was a miserable guy not so long ago but it all changed once he met you & had his very first child! Of course after first he was worried about being a deadbeat father, but eventually he suited up and prepared for everything was to come, dropped his drinking habits, went to therapy for most of his trauma from working on the most messed up cases world wide known to mankind & even baby proofing the entire house you two shared for over 4 years.

He even went out of his way to take random target trips with you during your pregnancy to stare at nursery furniture and random trinkets and toys he found, holding up gender neutral baby clothing before knowing the gender & asking “you think this is cute sweetheart?” It was amazing how he became so obsessed with the thought of having his own little family with a white piket fence & beautiful front lawn garden (He started gardening as a coping mechanism which would soon be one of his top hobbies he brought onto his daughter.)

During the gender reveal he was nothing but pure excitement and joy to have a little baby girl that the next day he even went back to target and came home to baby-proof the entire house, testing objects to see if they would fall on a random baby doll etc, so much so that you had to go downstairs at 12 am and force him to take a break and come to bed, “You don’t think she’ll hit her head on the table one day right? I really wouldn’t want my little princess to get hurt” “I think you need to put down the baby proofing tools for the night & actually come to bed hun, it’s almost 1 o’clock”

Some days you would be in pure anguish because D/N would be doing pure gymnastics in your belly that Leon had to ‘have a talk’ but most of the time during your pregnancy he was always talking to your tummy, Asking her to relax on the jumping around in there, Sometimes waking up super early in the morning to talk to your belly & sometimes waking you up & hearing you tell him off a little bit in a muffled voice since you were buried in your body pillow. “Hi babygirl, you excited to get outta there & see your new room? Yeah? Oh I know your excited angel but you can’t keep kicking mama like this sweetheart it hurts her!”, “Can’t keep jumpin’ around in mommy’s belly sweetness your driving her insane sweetheart” “oh yeah!?You excited babydoll?” “Good morning my sweet girl, I can’t wait to see you y’know, mommy & I are so excited to meet you & hold you & love yo-“ “Leon what the hell are you doing awake at 5:30??” “Uh oh I woke up mom” “leon I swear to god if you don’t go back to sleep.”

And then came along the arrival of his awaited babygirl, he was so excited he even set up a little mini red carpet infront of her nursery & stars next to the door & even putting a little sign on your guys’ front door in bold glittery pink ‘Welcome Home Princess D/N” He even brought a little camera to make a home tape for every memory he makes with you & your daughter so when she is finally old enough she can watch, this tape includes her birthing where your shouting & screams could be heard such as “GOD FUCKING DAMNIT LEON!!” “I’M GONNA KILL YOU IN YOUR FUCKING SLEEP!”& his light crying of when she was born

After your daughter was born it was extremely difficult for you two to set a fair sleep schedule so for the first few weeks Leon would wake up at 2:30 AM whenever D/N was crying on the baby monitor and move the rocking chair placed in her room right next to the crib “What’s the matter sweetness? Can’t sleep again? I know babygirl it must be so tough trying to get your little beauty sleep huh?” He would slip his hand through the little bars of the crib and smile giddily every time she would wrap her little hand around his thumb, growing up was the most difficult for him, he cried every-time his sweet angel took her first steps, said her first word which was obviously a strained “da-da” which was to be expected since D/N was a total daddy’s girl. most of the time when he was off he would let you go to work so he could spend his days with your guys’ daughter, take her to the petting zoo, a random aquarium where she discovered her favorite animal was a sea horse, Leon’s entire existence revolved around D/N to the point where if her little fist was directed at something she wanted he bought it, she starts crying? He jumps right up to take her off your hands so you can relax, his entire world was revolving around her & you loved to see it, sometimes when you got home from work you’d see Leon on the living room floor with your daughter as she babbled playing with a random stuffed animal monkey “Hi honey, Took her to the petting zoo today, we discovered she really loves monkeys”

Some mornings when you would all sit at the table eating before the day started Leon would watch her in her high chair chew on whatever she had in-front of her causing a small mess where he would chuckle & clean up after her “Your just one messy little girl huh princess? Gonna have to teach you manners now little lady.” And then came the day where she got her very first booboo, I’m sure you can imagine what happened, Little D/N was running around the backyard chasing a butterfly while you & Leon just finished harvesting this falls apples and then randomly you heard a tiny little wail behind you causing Leon to jump up from the ground and scoop up his baby girl “Baby she has a cut on her knee we need to take her to the hospital now! Get in the car!” “Honey I think she’s alright nothing a little rubbing alcohol & a band aid can’t fix.” When the two of you went inside and into the bathroom he sat on the edge of the bath tub and sat little D/N on his knee while you rubbed some alcohol on her knee which reasonably made her wail out more than she did beforehand causing Leon to start tearing up and kissing the top of her head “I know angel I know it hurts but we can’t let your lil’ booboo get worse & nasty now can we?” Once you finished that 1 minute of anguish you two sat in the living room holding her close as you slightly teased Leon for his light crying “You love making daddy cry now don’t you honey? You know you have him tied up around your little finger huh” You joked while Leon grunted while worryingly making sure she didn’t hurt herself again

One day you caught him in her room when she was around 4 years old having a little tea party, he was sat in a chair next to her that was far to tiny for him to fit in as he wore a pink tiara around his head that was again to tiny for him & a pink fluffy tutu around his waist while fake sipping tea from the tea cup while causing her to giggle, You had just gotten home from work & leaned against the doorway smiling and holding in a laugh but Leon smiled back and stood up and had the tiny chair stuck on his ass causing you & D/N to laugh obnoxiously especially after he eventually was able to pull it off and walk over to you mumbling “shut up.” Before kissing you lightly & asking how your day went. Obviously because of his career he had to miss some important events at school for D/N and he felt AWFUL. He cried in your arms one night after returning from a 1 week trip where he missed father daughter school day where he imagined his poor babygirl sitting at her table in kindergarten watching everyone else with their dad while she had a confused expression. And every single night after that for a month straight he would have little sleepovers in her room where he read her bedtime stories, you know that one 3 little kitties book from despicable me? He obviously read that to her with the brightest smile on his face and once it was time for bed her would sleep on the floor right next to her toddler bed “Goodnight babygirl, daddy loves you so so much y’know that? You got his heart right in your little fist”

By the time she was 10 he was always helping her with school projects & homework & even going to father daughter dances with her, if

D/N wanted something all she had to do was ask and bat her little lashes, some days when he went to go pick her up from school with you in the car he would see her talking to a boy before running off to the car leaving him with a puzzled face “who the hell is that little twerp near my daughter? She does know he is not good enough for her right?” “Nuh-uh Leon, Don’t start let her have friend alright?” “Sweetheart just look at the little shit! He’s practically blushing looking at her right now!” “Oh stop it.”

Just imagine what it would be like when D/N is finally a teenager and brings a boy home for the first time..Leon makes it VERY clear nobody is good enough for his little girl & never will be, he is the entire reason why her standards will be extremely high…

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

🏷️ List: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:

The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.

There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.

After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.

It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.

There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:

Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS

People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet

Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive

Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind

CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)

Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother

Paul walking into the desert at the end

You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.

The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??

There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.

The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!

I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.

If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.

And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.

(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)

This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.

But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.

[carbonbasedmatter]

there's sadly not a lot of content of them together but troy and annie's friendship is so important to me. I feel like we don't talk about them enough outside of general trobedison. they're two people who liked the idea of each other at some point for kind of superficial reasons but grew to appreciate each other as their own people and not just this goal of someone to "pull" the more they got to know each other. honestly glad that the writers dropped the ship cus it's so much better than it would've been if it was romantic. instead we got this cool thing where they both kind of helped each other grow into themselves and cope with changes.

the talk they had at the end of mixology certification reflecting on everything that happened after annie's sudden crisis about what she wanted to do with her life was so sweet.

ANNIE: ... I did it because I didn't wanna be me. I did it because i'm not sure who I am. Admit it- we went to school together for four years, and you didn't even know me.

TROY: Yeah, but I know you now, You're Annie...You like puzzles and little monsters on your pencil and some guy named Mark Ruffalo. You're a fierce competitor and a sore loser and you expect everybody to be better than who they are and you expect yourself to be better than everyone. Which is cool.

This was the episode where Troy realized that becoming an adult isn't this big, dramatic change and the people he looked up to were just as confused and imperfect as he was. He decides on his own that the grown up thing to do is to get everyone home safely rather than drinking. Here he's the one reassuring Annie, telling her how she does still have time to explore the world on her own terms, not knowing her well back then was his own loss.

I really like that about their dynamic how Troy kind of helps Annie realize she can just...relax and be herself without being judged, seeing her high school crush that she always wanted to impress casually building pillow forts and speaking in only movie references with his best friend. We don't see any immediate drastic changes in her that it seems unnatural but she's definitely more comfortable weird in her own way after moving into 303 (For ex her making Abed film missing lover clips for her)

I love how much they both care about abed too...in different ways. troy matches his weirdness, giving him an escape from what the rest of world thinks while annie shows him he CAN leave the world of simulations and scenarios, being different from someone but still having them respect you as a friend and build a close relationship with them letting him connect with the world. But they actually care about him letting him show a vulnerable side that he doesn't with a lot of the other members of the study group.

I also think the gay himbo+ smart but insane lesbian dynamic is v funny yea

anyways here are some silly photos that'll hopefully help get my point across

[blossoms-phan]

✨philm club✨ rewatch - october 19th, 2015

liveshow - notes/thought yaps under the cut!

i love how they’re explaining how they do their individual liveshows to each other like im not saying they were just sat in the other room twice a week watching the other persons liveshow but like surely you have some idea of how it usually goes lmao

“im quite mellow today we’ve been in a car for a while” phil does seem like he has more mellow/chill energy in this one i imagine they were tired but also so go go go at this point resting for a second would only slow them down more

6 year friendiversary and dinof anniversary! It's so insane to me that it was only 6 years atp like this dnp was not too long after i became obsessed with them and i blinked and now its 15 years

dan “reassess your lives” and phil “i think you should be thanking them”- i think this is fascinating and ties into how today dan still automatically goes “im so sorry” when people say i've been watching you for x years and it makes us all want to shake him by the shoulders and say don't apologize silly man!!!!!!!!! take the compliment we mean it with love!!!!!!

dan exposing his ass to audience in leeds and years later during wad great stuff 

phil smacking his head on stage wow some things really don't change 

“calm down” in a silly voice from dan always reminds me of the cLaM dOWN airplane northern voice live clip 

i haven’t rewatched a liveshow in so long so much hair adjusting 

they sound so british sometimes 

“dan do you know what yaoi is” this is so funny to me you are asking the poster boy for yaoi day in 2024

looking at pics of p!atd on tumblr COME BACK TO ME TUMBLRINAA they r right btw i love pretty odd 

“dan choke me with your legs” why r u reading that. whore. see in 2015 knowing that a literal child probably said this its kinda cringe but also me with sister daniel and like all the Thigh in general these days so who am i to speak

“i like being remembered because that doesnt happen often with the celebrity folks”  :( this is sweet i know this time was A Lot and in general the radio stuff wasn't for them in the end and they appreciate that it was cool and fun but dan also mentioned how it was annoying to just be brushed off or being in a position where you're just forced to chase after all these big named people that dgaf about you but its just nice to see they noticed when they were remembered and the 1975 mention i could write an essay about 2018 dan and the album abiior

phil stopped the bus for fish and chips hehe i literally had fish and chips today this is cray. i hope they actually had them for dinner this day i would love to have a parasocial fish and chip night with them

you are pal creators :’) 

editing tips mention they are so unserious 

i am so emotionally attached to the london apartment but referring to it as “the house” when they have an actual House now is really getting to me 

aww talking about tabinof :’( i cant remember if i've talked about this before but there was hugee “drama” back in the day when it was first announced of people accusing them of selling out or some dumb shit when this wasn't another copycat youtuber ghostwritten book they poured their hearts into it as silly and fun as it was and the way dan talks about it really shows that i hope they were proud of it and still are

dan you don't really have the same hair but ok 

talking about the australian today show and they were just on it last month!! why does that make me so emo 

bitten right on the florida

bakeee offfff mention this is why i loved liveshows like just yapping about the shows they watch and cry over together

dan self aware get over it crashing out “so what he enjoys a themed drink” he is so silly dfjfkdfksfkj i love this part

can i live in that autumn moment?

rare what phil has been listening to! movie soundtracks ok king

dan being a little pretentious talking about their differing tv show opinions and phil just mocking his hand movements and giving a 2 word review their dynamic is so dear to me

Is this an unpopular opinion idk i can’t stand 3d movies  

black and blue as always

phil’s laugh and look and dan going “you cheeky little bugger” at him putting “phil and dan” on the chair page<3

hearing them talk about tour in the tatinof days when it was their first go and things like how its amazing hearing people sing to the preshow playlist in the context of like right now is soooooo as a longtime fan who yearned to attend tatinof while it was happening but couldn’t and finally actually experienced them and the magic of a dan and phil show and things like singing hot to go with phannies just a few months ago god im going to miss this era sm

the apocalypse/ai/technology tangent is scarily relevant right now and from nearly 10 years ago wow hashtag we’re all doomed

susan boyle after the amazingdan reaction video lmaoo

they were really doing the most during this era like omg so many promises of things coming soon among the tour and spooky week and book and they were literally just home for one day after being in a car for hours earlier that day like they seem in good spirits in this one and i know its just chill chatting for an hour but boys! take a breather! 

overall i enjoyed this one! i don't rewatch old liveshows a lot but this is a fun way for us all to commit to rewatching and discussing one a week bc there's always so many fun little forgotten details and i think it would be fun to continue even post break! i was very tired while watching this and somehow still wrote out this very long yappy list of notes which are really just a stream of consciousness which no one will read probably but i humbly present them anyways <3

[morganski-19]

The One With Lamenting

Eddie walks up to the apartment completely fine. Cause why wouldn’t he be fine. It’s not like he’s done anything to move this situation further. If there’s a situation at all. Steve isn’t required to like Eddie back just because Eddie likes him. And so what if he walked past him going on a date with a guy that has a shocking resemblance to Eddie. That was perfectly fine. Normal. Allowed.

Eddie is perfectly ok with the fact that Steve has a dating life. Totally really ok with it.

It’s not like Eddie hasn’t been seeing people casually. In dark night club bathrooms and badly light apartments. Not on dates though. He can’t bring himself to go on an actual date, even if it’s been a year since his last relationship ended. Probably more than that now. But every time he sees a guy he’s somewhat interested in, he just can’t get it to the dating part. Always ghosting the people on dating apps or suggesting a quick hookup.

He lets out a dramatic sigh when he opens up his apartment door. Hoping to find some sympathy. Even though he knows he will just be met by sarcastic remarks on how he just needs to go ask the guy out. Like it’s that easy.

But this time, his sigh is covered by the sound of a blender.

“Dude,” Argyle’s voice booms through the apartment. “You made it just in time for fajitas.”

“I could use a fajita right now,” Eddie says as he pushes himself off the door. “What’s in there?” He points to the blender.

“Margaritas,” Nancy answers as she’s pouring it into glasses.

“Give me that.” Eddie grabs the blender out of Nancy’s hand as she finishes pouring the second margarita, finding a straw and sticking it in the blender. Claiming whatever is left as his.

Nancy huffs. “Hello, that was meant for all of us.”

“I just walked past Steve meeting someone for a date.” Eddie explains, now pacing around the kitchen.

“Here we go again,” Argyle whispers to Nancy as he plates up the fajitas.

Eddie continues to pace, trying to get as much alcohol in his mouth as possible. “It’s the same guy he was talking to last week. I know because he showed me his picture. This guy is so similar to me it’s insane. I’ve been spiraling trying to figure out what it means, or to tell him about it, but now they’re on a date and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Well, you could,” Nancy interrupts his spiraling tangent. “You just have to ask him out.”

“But what if he says no? What if he never wants to see me again and then I’ve ruined our entire friendship. And then it’s weird between us, meaning it’s weird between you guys because we live together, and it’s weird between me and Robin because she lives with Steve. And it would be weird between you and Robin because of it being weird with us and now it’s weird between us because I made it weird between you and Robin. Then it’s weird between all six of us because it’s weird between the four of us and it’s all because of me. So not only have I ruined one relationship, but I’ve ruined five.”

“Don’t you mean six,” Argyle asks, trying to keep up. He and Nancy share the same confused expression, not quite sure who Eddie’s talking to or about half the time.

Eddie just brushes him off. “No, I wouldn’t ruin whatever the thing is between you and Jonathan. That can’t be touched by me directly and I have never been more thankful for that.”

Argyle shrugs. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Has something changed between you two?” Nancy asks, sipping her drink, and taking a seat at the table.

“Not really,” Argyle sighs. “It was just all of a sudden something shifted between us. He started to be more distant than he normally is, and I don’t know what to think about it.”

Argyle finally makes himself a fajita and shoves it into his mouth. Eddie sits down, a good portion of the leftover margarita in the blender now gone.

“And there was nothing to cause it?”

Eddie groans, mouthful of food. “This is so good man.”

“Thanks. The only thing I can think of is his mom called a few days ago. But she calls all the time, so I don’t know what happened. He’s just been weird ever since.”

“Is that why he’s not here?”

Argyle shrugs. “I guess. Just said he wasn’t up for it tonight, I didn’t want to push.”

“Did something happen with Will, that sometimes makes him distant?”

Eddie perks up. “Who’s Will?”

“Jon’s younger brother,” Argyle explains. “Some stuff happened back when Will was in middle school after their parents got divorced so Jon’s really protective over him. But he’s been doing fine now. I don’t think anything would have changed recently.”

The apartment door opens before Eddie can ask any further questions.

“Nancy,” Robin interrupts their conversation. “You have got to see this guy Steve is going on a date with, it looks so much like-,” she notices Eddie. “Oh, hey Eddie.”

“I already know about this guy,” Eddie mocks while shoving more food in his face.

Robin glares at him. “So you’re drowning yourself with food and alcohol. Great. Also, how dare you guys have fajita night without me.”

Nancy shrugs. “You said you were going to go out, you knew it was fajita night.”

“Yeah, that’s on me,” she pulls out a chair. “I need someone to convince me not to cancel my date.”

Eddie and Argyle share a side glance.

“Why would you cancel it?” Nancy asks.

“Cause I haven’t had a decent date in months. Every time it just doesn’t click, and we never see each other again. Which is fine, I just want something to stick for longer than a night. Is that so wrong?”

Argyle shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s wrong. You’re looking for something more serious, that’s normal.”

“I guess. I just can’t help but feel like something’s wrong with me, that’s why no one ever wants to stick around that long.”

“No,” Nancy assures. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You just haven’t met the right person yet, and that’s ok.”

Robin’s phone dings. “Oh, she’s here. I’ll see you guys later. Save me some fajitas.”

When Robin closes the door behind her, she opens up her chat with Steve.

Robin: You’re plan of making Eddie jealous is working, he’s currently drinking a blender full of margaritas and stuffing his face with Argyle’s fajitas

Steve: :0

Steve: Their having fajitas without us, how rude

Robin: That’s what I said

Steve: But also, good cause this date is not going well

Robin: You’ve been out for twenty minutes how can it have gone south that fast

Steve: He hasn’t asked me a single question about myself and keep calling me Spence

Steve: Like that’s not even close

Robin: Ew

Robin: You should leave

Steve: Can you give me a fake 911 call

Robin: I would but I’m about to go on my date

Robin: You know who you should call

Robin: Eddie

Steve: That actually might be fun

Eddie’s phone pings. “Shit, Steve needs a fake 911 call to get out of his date. What should I say?”

“That you’re drunk and desperate and he should come back so you guys can finally break the weird tension you have,” Nancy teases.

Argyle snaps his fingers. “Tell him I got so high and ate an entire fried chicken then went into a food coma so bad someone thought I was dead again.”

“Again, that’s happened before?” Eddie stares at Argyle confused.

“I get a really bad case of the munchies. Especially after I visit back home in Cali.”

Nancy winces. “Yeah, I remember that trip. You were out for over eighteen hours.”

Eddie calls Steve.

“Eddie, I’m kind of busy right now.” Steve says through the line. Eddie can hear the voice of his date continuing to talk while Steve’s on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Eddie acts. “It’s just, Argyle got this real strong strain of weed and he’s pretty high. He ate an entire fried chicken by himself and then fell asleep. I’m kind of scared, he’s breathing weird and shit, I just need someone else to come sit with me to make sure he’s ok.” 

“Oh, that’s sounds bad. I’ll come over. Be over in a bit.” Steve hangs up the phone.

The next morning, Eddie is taking out the trash as Steve is on his way to work.

“Oh Eddie, I just wanted to thank you for getting me out of that date yesterday. Really appreciate it.”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s no problem. Lord knows I’ve been on plenty of bad dates. What was it?”

Steve sighs. “Just kept talking about himself and called me by the wrong name. Like, my name isn’t even that hard. Shows that he just didn’t try.”

“Ugh,” Eddie winces. “That’s the worst. I’m sure you’ll find someone that actually gives enough of a shit to learn your name. Oh wait, hold on.” Eddie quickly drops the trash down the shoot before running back into his apartment. He comes out with a plastic container in his hands. “I sectioned off some of Argyle’s fajitas from last night. Robin wanted us to save her some, but I made sure there was enough for you too. Thought you could have it for lunch or something.”

Steve takes the container with a smile. “Thanks. I love it when Argyle cooks.”

“They were so good, can’t believe I’ve never had them before. Apparently next month are enchiladas.”

“Remind me not to make any plans for that night.”

“Will do.” They stand there in an awkward silence for a minute, just staring at each other. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. Have a good day at work.”

Steve gives him a smile again, one that makes Eddie’s breath catch in his throat. “I will. Thanks to you.” He holds up the container still in his hand. “See you later.”

Eddie nods before heading back into his apartment. Tempted to just open the door again and ask Steve on a date. Do something about this. But can’t. Not yet.

friends au tag list

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow,

@dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow,

@eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord,

@autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

[novaursa]

The Flames we Loved (to drink poison)

This is one of my darker works. If it's not your cup of tea, skip it. The story gets progressively worse with each chapter. You have been warned.

- Summary: It started with Harrenhal and the year of false spring, where you danced with a dragon trying to calm his flames.

- Pairing: daughter!reader/father!Aerys II Targaryen

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: to ignite an ember

- Next part: to burn together

- A/N: I've forgotten to mention how timeline has been shifted and plot is all over the place in this AU storyline. Robert's Rebellion will still happen, but not the same year or for the same reason it's in the canon.

The water is scalding as you lower yourself into the bath, the heat biting at your skin, turning it pink. But you don’t flinch. You welcome it, hoping the burn will strip away the weight of everything you’ve carried since Harrenhal. The steam rises around you in thick clouds, curling into the air like smoke, as though trying to obscure your thoughts.

The water immediately turns red, swirling with the blood that had clung to your skin since Aerys had collapsed into your arms. His blood. His madness. His madness that now stains not just your flesh but something deeper. It clings to you, a taint that you can’t seem to wash away, no matter how much you scrub.

You reach for the cloth, dipping it into the water before pressing it against your face, wiping away the streaks of red that have dried on your cheek, your neck, your hands. The motion is automatic, almost mindless, as your thoughts drift back to the moment in the woods—the moment everything began to shift.

There had been something in that moment, a change in the air, in the very fabric of what bound you to the world. You’d felt the fire stir inside you for the first time then. At first, you thought it was just fear, the heat of adrenaline rushing through your veins as you stood before Aerys in the clearing, but it had been more than that. It was like a dormant flame had flickered to life, an ancient fire that you didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.

You exhale slowly, the steam rising around you as you submerge the cloth in the water again, pressing it harder against your skin this time, as though you can scrub away the memory itself.

But it lingers.

The bath offers no comfort, only more time for your thoughts to fester, to grow. Every flicker of the candlelight seems to call back to that fire inside you, that unsettling warmth that hadn’t stopped burning since that moment in the woods. Since Aerys had kissed you. Since his blood had stained your skin, and his insanity had seemed to seep into you like poison.

You close your eyes, sinking deeper into the water, the heat enveloping you like a cocoon. But even with your eyes closed, the memories press in—the feeling of Aerys’s fingers on your throat, the soft brush of his lips, the way his madness seemed to cling to every touch. And then there was the fire. That strange, terrifying heat that flickered in your veins, a fire that felt so much like the blood of the dragon, yet not the kind you were born to carry.

You feel it again now, that fire stirring inside you, threatening to rise. It scares you.

Not because of what it might do—but because of how it makes you feel. Alive. Powerful. Like you could control it if you only let it grow, if you only fed it the right fuel. But what happens when a fire grows too large? What happens when it burns everything around it to ash?

You press your hand against your chest, where the warmth seems to pulse beneath your skin. It hasn’t stopped since Harrenhal, and despite your attempts to understand it, you can’t. There’s something more to it—something ancient, something deep in the blood of your family that has been waiting, lying dormant. But why now? Why you?

You think of Rhaegar, his concerned eyes following you since the journey home. He knows something is wrong, that something has changed in you, but he doesn’t know the extent of it. He couldn’t. He’d only try to protect you, to save you from a fire you aren’t sure can be extinguished.

The cloth slips from your hand, falling into the water with a quiet splash, forgotten. You stare at the ripples, watching the way they disturb the surface, the blood-tinged water swirling in delicate patterns. The heat of the bath feels different now—less like a comfort, more like a reminder of that fire inside you, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment when it will consume you whole.

For the first time, you wonder if this fire is connected to Aerys. He is consumed by madness, by an obsession with dragons and fire. He talks of visions, of flames and rebirth, of burning the world and rising from the ashes. You always thought it was just the madness—the delusions of a king who had lost control of his mind.

But what if there’s truth to it?

You shake your head, your fingers gripping the edge of the tub as if to ground yourself in the reality of the moment. No. You can’t think like that. You can’t let his madness infect you. But the fire… it’s there. You can feel it. And you don’t know how to control it, how to stop it from spreading.

You lean back against the edge of the bath, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as the water laps gently against your skin. There’s a heaviness in your chest, a weight that settles deep in your bones as you try to make sense of everything. Aerys’s touch, his madness, the fire inside you—it’s all tangled together, like threads in a web that you can’t unravel.

And now, as you sit here, trying to scrub away the blood and the memories, you realize something terrifying: you are afraid. Not just of what Aerys might do, or of the madness that consumes him, but of what’s happening inside you. Of the power that flickers to life every time you feel that fire stir.

You exhale slowly, your breath shaking as you lift your hand to your throat, to where Aerys’s fingers had lingered just hours before. The skin there is clean now, free of his blood, but you can still feel the weight of his touch, the way it had lingered just a little too long. His sickness has infected everything—his kingdom, his family, and now… maybe even you.

But you can’t let it. You won’t.

You rise from the bath, the water dripping from your skin as you step onto the cool stone floor. The servant stands nearby, waiting to tend to you, but you wave her away, your mind too full of the swirling thoughts to deal with anything else right now.

“I’ll manage,” you say quietly, and she bows, retreating from the chamber without a word.

As you dry yourself and dress, your mind remains fixed on the question that has haunted you since Harrenhal. The fire inside you is growing, and you don’t know how to control it. But you must. Because if you don’t, you fear it will burn everything in its path.

And you’re not sure you’ll survive the flames.

The scent of blooming flowers lingers in the air around the garden, but despite the beauty of the day, there’s a sense of unease hanging over everything—Aerys has yet to leave his chambers after yesterday’s violent confrontation with Rhaegar, and the court is holding its breath, waiting for the next eruption.

Your ladies chatter quietly around you, their voices soft and polite, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of the previous day’s events, of Aerys’s blood on your skin and Rhaegar’s furious departure, still clings to you like a shadow. You’ve barely slept, haunted by the fire that seems to burn hotter inside you with each passing day.

As you walk, your gaze drifts toward a familiar figure standing alone near the edge of the gardens. Rhaegar. His posture is rigid, his back to you as he stares out at the horizon, his long silver hair catching the light of the sun. Even from this distance, you can sense the storm brewing inside him, the unresolved fury that still lingers.

You hesitate for a moment, uncertain whether to approach him. The argument he had with Aerys is still fresh in your mind, and you know he’s been grappling with the aftermath. But you also know Rhaegar—he rarely lets his emotions show, and when he does, it’s only to those closest to him. You’ve always been able to read him better than anyone, and right now, you can tell he needs someone to reach out.

Making your decision, you turn to your ladies. “I’ll return shortly. Please continue your walk without me.”

They nod, bowing slightly before continuing along the path, their voices fading into the background as you make your way toward Rhaegar. The garden feels quieter as you approach, the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of birds the only sounds to accompany your steps. You stop a few paces behind him, waiting for him to acknowledge your presence.

“Rhaegar,” you say softly, your voice breaking the stillness.

He doesn’t turn immediately, but you can see the slight tension in his shoulders, as if your words have drawn him from some deep, troubled thought. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice low and controlled, though there’s an edge of weariness to it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, still not turning to face you. “Not after yesterday.”

You take a step closer, ignoring his attempt to push you away. “I’m worried about you,” you reply, your tone gentle but firm. “You’ve barely left your chambers since the argument with Father. Everyone can see something is wrong.”

He exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “And what would you have me say?” he asks quietly, his voice laced with bitterness. “That I can’t bear to look at him? That I fear what he’s become? Or worse… what he’s doing to you?”

The last words hang in the air, cutting through the quiet like a blade. Rhaegar finally turns to face you, his expression a mixture of anger and concern. His indigo eyes, so much like your own, are filled with a pain he can no longer hide.

“I saw you yesterday, after you left his chambers,” he continues, his voice tight. “You were covered in his blood. And yet you comforted him as if nothing was wrong. How long do you intend to play this part, Y/N? How long can you pretend that this… madness won’t destroy us all?”

You meet his gaze, your heart aching at the sight of the torment in his eyes. He’s right, of course. You’ve been playing a dangerous game, pretending to hold everything together while Aerys’s madness spirals further out of control. But what choice do you have? You are the only one who can calm him, the only one who can keep him from completely unraveling.

“I’m not pretending,” you say softly, taking another step closer. “I know what’s happening, Rhaegar. I see it as clearly as you do. But if I don’t try to hold him together, who will?”

Rhaegar’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “You shouldn’t have to bear this alone,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “This burden is too great, even for you.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand on his arm, offering him the only comfort you can. “I don’t bear it alone,” you say quietly. “I have you. And I know… I know you would stop him if he ever went too far.”

His expression softens, but the conflict remains in his eyes. He knows what you’re asking of him—to stay by your side, to stand against Aerys if the time ever comes. It’s a burden neither of you should have to carry, but the fire that burns in your veins, the blood of the dragon, demands it.

“I swore I would protect you,” he says after a long silence, his voice heavy with the weight of that promise. “Even from him. But, Y/N… there’s something dark stirring inside him. I don’t know if even you can hold it back anymore.”

You lower your gaze, his words cutting through you like ice. You’ve felt it too—the way Aerys’s madness has grown darker, more dangerous, since Harrenhal. There’s a sense of inevitability to it now, a feeling that no matter what you do, the fire will consume everything in its path.

But what Rhaegar doesn’t know, what you can’t bring yourself to tell him, is that the fire is inside you too.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “But I’ll try… for as long as I can.”

Rhaegar steps closer, his hand gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. “Don’t lose yourself in his madness, Y/N,” he says softly. “Promise me that.”

You nod, though the promise feels fragile, as if it could shatter at any moment. “I promise.”

The garden is quiet around you and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, the weight of the world pressing down but held at bay by the shared understanding between you.

Then, with a sigh, Rhaegar releases you, his gaze drifting back toward the horizon. “He hasn’t left his chambers since yesterday,” he says, his voice returning to its usual calm. “But it’s only a matter of time before he does. We need to be prepared.”

The great hall was alive with the usual hum of conversation, courtiers and nobles gathering in small clusters, speaking in low voices, their faces masked with polite smiles as they exchanged pleasantries and rumors. You stood by Lucerys Velaryon and Symond Staunton, listening to their idle chatter about the matters of Driftmark and the latest gossip from Storm’s End. Despite the appearance of normalcy, there was an underlying dread that no one could ignore, a weight hanging in the air ever since the events at Harrenhal. Since yesterday.

You nodded absently at something Lucerys said, but your eyes were drawn to the entrance of the throne room. The wide doors creaked open, and a hush rippled through the court like a cold wind. Heads turned, whispers falling silent as if the very stones of the Red Keep held their breath.

Aerys had emerged from his chambers.

The sight of him, once so rare, now elicited stunned silence from those who saw him. He strode forward, his silver hair hanging loose and wild around his face, his robe trailing behind him like the shadow of some long-forgotten king. His eyes, sharp and burning with an unsettling intensity, swept across the room, searching. It was as if the air itself had chilled, as if the very presence of the man caused the warmth to drain from the room.

Rhaella, standing near one of the great pillars with her attendants, seemed to shrink into herself, her pale face lowering as if she could hide from his gaze. Without a word, she retreated into the shadows, disappearing into the wings of the court where no one would see the fear in her eyes. Everyone else held their ground, though their discomfort was obvious, their backs stiffening, conversations forgotten.

On the other side of the room, Rhaegar stood with Elia Martell, their children absent from court today. His arm wrapped protectively around Elia’s waist, drawing her closer to him, though anyone who knew them could see the distance that still lingered between them, even when they appeared united before the court. Elia’s face remained composed, her eyes cast downward in a perfect picture of regal calm, but the tension in Rhaegar’s jaw was unmistakable.

Aerys’s gaze fell on them, his lips curling into a thin, twisted smile as he approached. The courtiers parted before him, making way for their king and the members of his Kingsguard, who flanked him with expressions of stoic indifference.

When Aerys reached Rhaegar and Elia, he paused, his eyes narrowing as he took them in. His smile remained, but there was nothing kind or fatherly in it. It was a sneer, a mockery of the family bond that should have existed between them.

“So,” Aerys said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence, “here we have the prince and his Dornish wife. How quaint you both look today.”

Rhaegar’s jaw tightened, though he said nothing. His arm around Elia stiffened, pulling her even closer, though she remained perfectly still, her gaze never leaving the floor.

Aerys’s eyes flicked between them, and his smile grew, a thin veneer of civility barely covering the venom beneath. “Tell me, Rhaegar,” he continued, his tone dripping with thinly veiled scorn, “how does it feel, parading around like the perfect prince with your lovely wife on your arm? Does it make you feel better about your failures? Or are you still playing at the gallant knight, rescuing your dear sister from her poor, mad father?”

The words cut like a blade, though no one dared react. The court stood in stunned silence, the tension thick enough to choke on. Rhaegar’s knuckles turned white as his fingers pressed into Elia’s side, but still, he did not respond. He couldn’t. Not here. Not with Aerys towering over them.

Aerys’s laugh was sharp, brittle, as he glanced at Elia, his smile curling into something cruel. “You must be proud, Princess Elia,” he said with mock sweetness. “Such a fine, noble husband you have. Perhaps he can sing you one of his pretty songs later, soothe away all the… inconveniences of your life.”

Rhaegar’s gaze flickered to Elia, his eyes dark with barely concealed rage, but she remained impassive, her face a mask of composure.

Aerys, satisfied with the reaction—or lack thereof—tilted his head slightly, his smile widening as if he had won some private game. He gave them one last look, as if they were beneath him, then continued forward.

You watched as Aerys approached, the court still parting before him like waves before a storm. You felt your pulse quicken, the familiar unease creeping over you as he made his way toward you, his eyes already locked on yours.

Lucerys and Symond exchanged nervous glances but quickly stepped back as Aerys reached you, leaving you standing alone under the weight of his gaze. His smile softened as he came to a stop before you, though it was no less dangerous, no less unsettling.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice lowering as if only you were meant to hear him. “My sweet daughter. How lovely you look today, mingling with your… courtiers.” His gaze flicked briefly to Lucerys and Symond, who had retreated to a respectful distance, before settling back on you. “Are they keeping you entertained?”

There was a hidden edge to his words, one that made your skin prickle. You held his gaze, forcing a smile even as your heart pounded in your chest. “They are, Father,” you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves twisting inside you. “They have been speaking of the news from the Stormlands and Driftmark.”

Aerys’s smile widened, but there was something predatory in it. He reached out, brushing a strand of your hair back from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin longer than necessary. “Ah, such trivial matters. It’s good to see that you remain… involved in the politics of the realm.”

You felt the familiar weight of his touch, the way it lingered, the way it unsettled you in ways you couldn’t explain. His blood had stained your skin just the day before, and now, here he was again, treating you as if nothing had changed, as if the violence and madness hadn’t left their marks on you both.

The courtiers watched, their eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and discomfort, but none of them would dare speak. Aerys was still their king, and you were still his daughter, the one person who could calm the storm that constantly brewed in his soul.

Aerys’s gaze flickers away from you and turns to Lucerys Velaryon and Symond Staunton, who both stand stiff and silent, their expressions wary. And you can see the nervous glance that Lucerys shoots toward Symond, both of them knowing that an encounter with Aerys rarely ends well.

"So," Aerys drawls, his voice deceptively soft, laced with a hint of mockery. "You two gentlemen seem to be discussing quite a bit. Matters of state, I assume? What pressing concerns have you brought to my court today?"

Lucerys clears his throat, his expression careful. “Your Grace, we have been discussing matters regarding Driftmark and the Stormlands,” he says evenly. “Trade routes, shipping regulations, and other such concerns.”

Aerys tilts his head, his sharp eyes boring into Lucerys as if he’s dissecting him. "Ah, yes. The tedious business of ships and tariffs. Fascinating, truly." His smile is tight, and you can feel the tension in the air shift as he continues. "But I wonder... while you’re here, what do you think of my daughter?"

The question drops like a stone into the silence, and Lucerys and Symond exchange a quick, startled glance. The court is silent, eyes flickering between Aerys, you, and the two men, as if waiting for something—anything—to break this moment. Aerys’s question is more than it seems; it feels like a trap, one of the many that Aerys often sets when he grows bored. He’s searching for something, some flicker of weakness or fear to exploit.

Lucerys shifts uncomfortably, his lips parting slightly before he answers, carefully choosing his words. “Princess Y/N is a credit to her family, Your Grace,” he says, bowing his head slightly. “She is admired by many and respected by all who meet her.”

Symond nods in agreement, his face pale. "Yes, Your Grace. A true Targaryen, through and through."

Aerys’s smile sharpens, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Admired? Respected?" he echoes, his voice carrying an edge of mockery. "That’s all you have to say about her?"

You feel your stomach twist, the trap tightening around Lucerys and Symond as they stand before your father. Aerys isn’t satisfied with their answers—he wants more. He always wants more. You know where this is leading, the dark amusement flickering in his eyes as he toys with the two men before him. He’s looking for any sign of hesitation, any slight crack he can exploit.

You step closer to him, your hand gently tugging on the sleeve of his robe, like a child seeking her father’s attention. "Father," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to divert his attention away from Lucerys and Symond. "Perhaps we should let them return to their duties. I’m sure there are many matters awaiting their attention."

Aerys’s eyes flick down to you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before the corners of his mouth lift in a thin, almost indulgent smile. But you can see the glint of something darker in his gaze. He’s not ready to let this moment go, not yet.

"Oh, my dear," he says, his tone dripping with false affection. "But I am curious. Don’t you want to hear what they truly think of you?"

You feel your pulse quicken, your fingers tightening on the sleeve of his robe. "I know what they think, Father," you reply, keeping your voice steady. "They’ve always shown me nothing but respect."

Aerys hums in mock agreement, but his gaze returns to Lucerys and Symond, who are standing as still as statues, clearly uncertain how to proceed. "Respect," Aerys repeats, almost thoughtfully. "But respect can be such a hollow thing, don’t you think?" His eyes narrow, and his smile grows more dangerous. "What I want to know is... do you find her worthy of being a Targaryen?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy and ominous. Lucerys looks as though he’s been struck, his mouth opening slightly before he snaps it shut again, clearly realizing that any answer he gives could spell disaster. Symond, on the other hand, seems to have paled even more, his eyes darting nervously between you and Aerys.

"Your Grace," Lucerys begins carefully, "Princess Y/N is a Targaryen through and through, as I said. She embodies the strength and grace of your House."

Symond quickly nods in agreement, adding, "She is the blood of the dragon, Your Grace. There is no doubt of her worth."

Aerys chuckles softly, clearly entertained by their discomfort. He turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm, almost possessive. "There, you see, daughter?" he says, his voice deceptively light. "They think very highly of you. And yet, I wonder... how much of it is fear? How much of it is respect, and how much is simply the fear of what I might do if they said otherwise?"

You hold his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, but you keep your expression calm. "Fear and respect are not so different, Father," you say quietly, choosing your words carefully. "But it is respect that endures."

Aerys’s smile fades slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve pushed too far, if your attempt to soothe him has only provoked him. But then, just as quickly, his expression shifts, amusement returning to his face as he lets out a short, sharp laugh.

"Perhaps," he says, his grip on your shoulder loosening. He turns back to Lucerys and Symond, waving a hand dismissively. "You may go. But do not forget who holds your respect."

Lucerys and Symond bow deeply, their faces tight with relief as they quickly back away, disappearing into the crowd of courtiers that has begun to stir again now that Aerys’s attention has shifted. You can feel the eyes of the court on you, their curiosity piqued by the exchange, but no one dares to speak. No one dares to intervene when it comes to the king and his daughter.

Aerys’s hand remains on your shoulder for a moment longer, his fingers lingering as if savoring the control he holds over you, over everyone. Finally, he releases you, his gaze softening in a way that is almost paternal—but you know better. The moment of amusement has passed, and for now, he seems satisfied.

"Come, daughter," he says, his voice almost gentle as he begins to walk away. "We have more important matters to attend to."

You follow him, your heart still racing, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. 

The dark, foreboding atmosphere of the Throne Room loomed ahead as Aerys strode purposefully toward the Iron Throne, his twisted smile flickering in the low light that filtered through the high, narrow windows. You followed closely behind, your footsteps echoing in the vast hall. This was the place where Aerys’s madness was most potent, where his darkest fantasies and cruelest decisions were brought to life.

The court lingered in the shadows, their faces pale, their movements stiff with barely concealed fear. None would speak out against the king; none would dare. You knew the horror that awaited, the kind of spectacle your father relished. The Iron Throne, jagged and monstrous, loomed before you, casting its sharp shadows over the cold stone floor. Aerys ascended the steps with slow, deliberate precision, his wild silver hair framing his face like a dark halo, and as he sat upon the throne, he seemed almost like a creature born of the metal itself.

Without looking back at you, Aerys gestured for you to join him. You hesitated for only a moment before following his command, climbing the steps to stand beside him. As you reached him, his hand shot out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. His touch was rough as he brought you nearer, his lips grazing your ear in a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Stay with me, my sweet,” he murmured, his voice too soft, too affectionate, a sickening contrast to the madness simmering in his eyes. “Watch with me. You’ll see just how weak men are when they face true fire.”

Before you could respond, Aerys’s attention shifted. He lifted his hand, signaling to Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who stood at the entrance to the hall. “Bring him in,” Aerys commanded, his voice carrying the weight of impending doom.

A few tense moments passed before the heavy doors opened, and Lord Ethen Brax was dragged into the Throne Room, his wrists bound, his face pale with fear. His clothes were dirtied, his steps stumbling as he was forced forward by two guards. The court watched in uneasy silence, their gazes flicking nervously between the king and the prisoner.

Aerys’s grip on your arm tightened, pulling you even closer, nearly into his lap. You could feel the sharp edges of the Iron Throne digging into your side as you tried to remain composed, despite the horror unfolding before you. The king leaned toward you again, his breath warm against your cheek. “You see, my dear? They’re all so afraid. Afraid of what I can do. Afraid of what we can do.”

Lord Ethen was brought before the Iron Throne, forced to his knees. He trembled as he looked up at Aerys, his lips moving as though trying to form words, but nothing coherent came out. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable—he knew what was coming.

Aerys leaned back, surveying the broken man before him with cold amusement. “Do you know why you’re here, Lord Brax?” he asked, his voice a mockery of curiosity.

Lord Ethen stammered, his words incoherent, his mouth moving as though trying to explain himself, but fear had stolen any sense he might have possessed.

“Speak up!” Aerys barked suddenly, his voice sharp as a blade. The entire hall flinched at the outburst, save for you, though your heart pounded in your chest.

“I—I don’t…” Lord Ethen mumbled, his eyes darting from Aerys to the ground beneath him.

Aerys’s lips twisted into a cruel grin. “Your crime, Lord Brax,” he began slowly, drawing out the moment as if savoring it, “is conspiring against your king. Plotting to poison your lord, to overthrow the Targaryen bloodline. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” His voice dripped with menace as he spoke, each word deliberate, designed to crush any semblance of hope Lord Ethen might have clung to.

Lord Ethen’s face drained of color, his mouth moving soundlessly as he shook his head. “N-no, Your Grace, I—I would never—”

“Silence!” Aerys roared, rising from the Iron Throne so quickly that his robe billowed around him like the wings of a great beast. “You know the punishment for treason, do you not?”

The hall was deathly silent, save for the sound of Lord Ethen’s ragged breathing. You closed your eyes for just a moment, knowing all too well where this was going. Aerys had indulged in many cruel spectacles, but it had been some time since he had publicly entertained his darker impulses. And now, it seemed, that hunger had returned with full force.

“Pyromancers,” Aerys called out, his voice dripping with anticipation, “bring them in.”

The doors opened again, and two men clad in the dark robes of the Guild of Pyromancers entered the Throne Room, carrying with them small vials of wildfire, their faces alight with the prospect of destruction. You could feel the atmosphere in the room shift, the air growing thick with fear. The court had seen Aerys do terrible things in the name of power, but the sight of the pyromancers always brought with it a sense of inevitable, irreversible terror.

Aerys’s grip on you tightened, pulling you intimately close, his fingers brushing the back of your neck as he leaned in to whisper again. “Watch, my sweet. Watch what true fire can do. Don’t look away, or you’ll regret it.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you knew that to show any sign of weakness now would only provoke his wrath. He would force you to endure this spectacle, and if you faltered, if you showed even a flicker of resistance, he would punish you in ways you could not bear to imagine.

Lord Ethen, now visibly shaking, tried to speak again, but his words were drowned out by Aerys’s command. “Do you know what wildfire does to a man, Lord Brax?” Aerys asked, his voice almost gleeful. “It burns hotter than any fire. It doesn’t just consume the flesh—it consumes the soul.”

You felt your throat tighten, the weight of Aerys’s words pressing down on you as the pyromancers began their preparations. The vials of wildfire were brought forward, gleaming with their sickly green hue, and Lord Ethen’s pleas turned to desperate sobs.

Aerys’s grip remained firm, his body pressed too closely against yours, his breath hot and stifling as he whispered, “Don’t look away, Y/N. Watch. Watch what we are capable of.”

You kept your eyes open, the horror unfolding before you like a nightmare you couldn’t escape, your body rigid as Aerys held you in place, forcing you to witness the destruction he so relished.

And all you could do was endure it.

Aerys’s eyes gleamed with a fevered light as he raised his hand, his long fingers curling into a gesture that held within it the weight of doom. The pyromancers stood at attention, their faces hidden in the deep shadows of their robes, but you could sense their anticipation. The entire court had grown unnaturally still, the air charged with an unspoken horror, as they awaited the king’s command.

“Light it,” Aerys said, his voice thick with exhilaration, the words dripping like venom.

The pyromancers moved quickly, uncorking the vials of wildfire and setting the volatile liquid ablaze. In an instant, green flames roared to life, their sickly glow filling the Throne Room with an unnatural brightness that seemed to warp the very air. The heat was immense, and yet Aerys’s presence beside you, pressing against you, was even more suffocating.

You felt his excitement in every tremor of his body as he leaned down, his face far too close to yours, the sharp edges of his beard scratching against your skin. His breath, hot and ragged, brushed against your cheek as he whispered, “Do you feel it, Y/N? The power? This is what we are capable of.”

The fire in front of you consumed everything, the heat rising in great, violent waves as Lord Ethen screamed—his voice swallowed by the flames. The green fire twisted and leapt toward the vaulted ceiling, and the sight of it was both mesmerizing and horrifying. But more horrifying still was the sensation of Aerys’s hands roaming over you, his fingers brushing against your waist, your hip, with a feverish intensity that made your skin crawl. His touch was possessive, intimate in a way that was meant to remind you that there was no escape—not from him, and not from this moment.

You caught the fleeting sight of Varys, his soft, padded steps retreating into the shadows of the room, as though the spectacle was too much even for him to bear. Nearby, Ser Jaime Lannister, usually so composed, had turned his head slightly, his jaw clenched tight as he refused to look at the gruesome scene. But there was no such reprieve for you. You had to watch.

Aerys’s hand slid higher, his grip tightening, pulling you closer to him as if the flames that roared before you weren’t enough to feed his lust for destruction. You did everything in your power to keep still, to remain composed, to suppress the urge to pull away or flinch under his touch. But the heat, the sight of Lord Ethen writhing in agony, and the oppressive weight of Aerys’s presence began to erode the control you had fought so hard to maintain.

The wildfire danced higher, casting grotesque shadows across the room. And then it happened—that familiar, unsettling shift inside you, the one that had begun at Harrenhal, the one that seemed to flicker to life whenever Aerys was near. A strange warmth pulsed through your veins, a fire of your own, something ancient and primal stirring beneath the surface. It frightened you, how it seemed to rise in response to his madness, how it threatened to consume you just as the wildfire consumed Lord Ethen.

A small, involuntary shudder escaped your lips, a tremor so subtle that you might have thought it went unnoticed.

But Aerys noticed.

His head turned toward you, his mouth so close to your ear that you could feel the twisted smile forming on his lips. “Ah, so you do feel it,” he whispered, his voice mocking, almost cruel. “You pretend to be so strong, so composed, but even you can’t hide it. The fire burns in you too, doesn’t it?”

His words, laced with a twisted sense of triumph, sent a cold chill through you despite the unbearable heat of the flames. He had caught the weakness in that moment, the crack in your armor, and he reveled in it. His hand slid higher, his grip possessive as his fingers dug into your side, his touch almost bruising. He didn’t need to look at you; his gaze remained locked on the flames as they danced higher, his excitement growing with each flicker of destruction.

“You try so hard to deny it,” he continued, his tone shifting from mockery to something more intimate. “But you can’t. Not anymore. The fire in you is the same as mine. You’re as much a dragon as I am, no matter how much you pretend otherwise.”

The words stung, cutting deep in a way you hadn’t expected. Because in some terrible, unspoken way, you feared he was right. The fire inside you—whatever it was—had begun to take root. It was growing, feeding off the madness around you, and no matter how hard you tried to suppress it, to bury it, you couldn’t escape its pull.

Aerys’s hand pressed harder against you, his excitement palpable. “Look at him,” he whispered, his voice thick with cruelty. “Look at what we’ve done. This is the power of fire and blood.”

You opened your eyes, forcing yourself to look at the spectacle before you, the green flames consuming what remained of Lord Ethen Brax. His body was nothing but ash now, his screams long since silenced, but the fire raged on, consuming everything in its path. And as you stared into the heart of the wildfire, you felt something inside you break further—some fragile piece of you that had held on for so long now slipping away, consumed by the flames just as Ethen had been.

Aerys’s hand moved to your throat, his grip gentle but terrifyingly intimate still, his fingers tracing the delicate line of your neck. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice both a claim and a warning. “You’ve always been mine. No matter how much you fight it.”

You felt the weight of those words pressing down on you, the knowledge that there was no escaping him. No matter what you did, no matter how much you tried to resist, he would always find a way to pull you back into his madness.

And in that moment, as the flames continued to rise, you realized that something inside you had irrevocably changed. Something had broken, something fragile and precious that could never be repaired.

And you didn’t know if you would ever feel whole again.

The sound of rushing footsteps echoed through the stone corridors of the Red Keep, the frantic energy of courtiers and small council members visible as they moved toward the Throne Room. But Rhaegar was ahead of them all, his mind filled with a growing fear, his heart hammering in his chest. He already knew what awaited him. He had heard the rumors, the whispers of wildfire and screams. Of his father indulging his madness once more.

And though the other lords—the ever-watchful Tywin Lannister, Grand Maester Pycelle , and others—hurried after him, he knew deep down that no one in that room had the power to stop Aerys. No one but his sister.

His sister. You.

As Rhaegar neared the Throne Room, the great iron doors loomed before him like the jaws of a beast ready to devour all who dared enter. He hesitated only for a second, steeling himself for what lay beyond, before pushing the doors open.

The scene inside hit him like a blow to the chest.

The last flames of wildfire flickered and died, leaving behind nothing but smoldering ash where Lord Ethen Brax had once been. The pungent, acrid smell of burned flesh hung in the air, a sickening reminder of the horrors that had just unfolded. The courtiers were silent, their faces pale and their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and revulsion. And at the center of it all, his father sat upon the Iron Throne, his wild eyes gleaming with triumph.

And you. His sister, standing so close to Aerys, held tight in his grasp as if you were an extension of his insanity. Your face, usually calm and controlled, held something else now—something Rhaegar had never seen before. Not fear, not pain. But something darker. Resignation, perhaps. Or worse, acceptance.

For a moment, Rhaegar couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you in Aerys’s grip, standing by his side as though you were part of this terrible spectacle. The look in your eyes, distant and haunted, sent a chill through him.

Tywin Lannister entered the room shortly after, followed by the other lords of the small council, their expressions tight with suppressed emotion. They were here out of duty, yes, but also to ensure that Aerys’s madness did not spread further than it already had. Yet Rhaegar knew—as did they—that none of them could stop this. They had allowed it for far too long.

No, if anyone had the power to calm the storm that raged within Aerys, it had always been you. You were the one who could reach him when no one else could. But as Rhaegar stood there, watching the way Aerys’s fingers traced your arm, the way his gaze lingered on you like a possessive shadow, he saw the truth.

You couldn’t reach him anymore.

And worse—perhaps you no longer wanted to.

Rhaegar’s heart sank as he saw the distance in your eyes, the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away as Aerys held you close. His father’s madness had infected everything, twisting what should have been a bond of love into something grotesque. Aerys hadn’t just taken hold of the throne; he had taken hold of you.

Tywin Lannister, ever careful, stepped forward, his face an impenetrable mask of composure. “Your Grace,” he said smoothly, his voice respectful but firm, “the spectacle is over. The court awaits your further instructions.”

Aerys didn’t respond at first. His eyes were still on you, as though you were the only thing that existed in the room. His fingers curled around your arm, almost reverently, and for a moment, Rhaegar thought his father might refuse to acknowledge anyone else. Aerys’s face twisted with something like affection as he pulled you even closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a kiss that felt more like a brand.

It was almost tender, almost loving—if not for the horror that burned beneath it.

Rhaegar clenched his fists, every instinct within him screaming to intervene, to pull you away from this grotesque display. But something in your eyes stopped him. You weren’t fighting. You weren’t resisting. And in that terrible moment, he understood. Something inside you had broken. Whatever hope had remained that you could save Aerys, that you could continue to pull him back from the edge, was gone.

Aerys finally shifted his gaze, his eyes flickering toward Tywin as though noticing him for the first time. The king’s lips curled into a sneer, but he didn’t let go of you. “Ah, Tywin,” Aerys drawled, his voice thick with mockery. “Always so eager to serve.”

Tywin’s expression remained unchanged, though Rhaegar could see the faint tightening of his jaw. “Your Grace,” Tywin said, bowing his head slightly, “the court awaits your judgment.”

For a moment, Aerys remained still, his grip on you unyielding. Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, he released you, though his fingers lingered as if he were unwilling to fully let go. His eyes flickered over you one last time, filled with something dark and possessive, before he turned his attention to the room at large.

But not before pressing a kiss to your temple—one more act of twisted devotion.

Only then did Aerys rise from the Iron Throne, his long robes sweeping the floor as he began to descend the steps, his focus shifting from you to the lords who waited below. His movements were deliberate, every step filled with the arrogance of a king who believed himself untouchable.

As Aerys descended, you remained frozen in place, standing at the foot of the Iron Throne as though rooted to the spot. Rhaegar took a step forward, his heart heavy as he met your gaze. And in that moment, he saw everything he had feared reflected back at him. The sister he had always known—the strong, composed woman who had fought so hard to keep their family together—was gone.

What remained was something else. Something fractured.

Tywin, ever the master of diplomacy, approached Aerys carefully, bowing his head in deference. “Your Grace,” he said quietly, “the court thanks you for your mercy in dispensing justice.”

Aerys’s lips twitched into a smile, though there was no warmth in it. “Mercy?” he repeated, his voice lilting with amusement. “I think not, Tywin. But they should be grateful. For I am the last dragon, and the fire that burns in me is what will keep them all in line.”

Rhaegar watched as Tywin nodded, his face carefully neutral. The lord had seen enough of Aerys’s madness to know how to navigate it, how to speak the words that would keep the king placated, if only for a little while longer.

But as Aerys turned, his attention now fully on the throne room’s courtiers, Rhaegar’s eyes flicked back to you. You were still standing there, still not moving. And in that moment, he knew.

His sister—the only one who had ever been able to stop Aerys—was slipping away.

And there was nothing he could do to save you.

The sound of the doors closing behind Aerys echoed faintly in your ears, though it seemed distant, muted, as though you were underwater. The world around you had taken on a strange, dreamlike quality, as if everything were moving just slightly slower than it should. You stood there, at the foot of the Iron Throne, your body rigid, your mind racing, struggling to make sense of what had just happened.

Your heart beat in your chest, a frantic rhythm you couldn’t quite calm. The air in the Throne Room felt thick, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were pressing in on you. You wanted to move, to leave, but your legs refused to obey, as though they had forgotten how to function.

For the first time, you felt truly paralyzed.

You had always been able to handle Aerys’s madness before. You had been the one to stand by his side, to soothe him when others couldn’t, to pull him back from the brink when his rage threatened to consume him. You had been strong, composed—always in control. But now, that control had slipped through your fingers like sand, and you couldn’t grasp it again, no matter how hard you tried.

Your skin still burned where his fingers had touched you, where his lips had pressed against your temple. The kiss had been so gentle, so reverent, and yet it had filled you with a sickening sense of violation. You had felt his madness in that touch, the possessiveness, the cruelty wrapped in affection. And for the first time, you hadn’t flinched.

That scared you more than anything.

You stood frozen in place, staring at the ground where the last embers of wildfire had died, where the ashes of Lord Ethen Brax still lingered in the air. The memory of the flames, of Aerys’s voice whispering in your ear, still echoed in your mind, playing over and over again. You had stood there, at his side, while he indulged in one of his darkest fantasies, and you had done nothing.

You hadn’t tried to stop him.

You hadn’t wanted to stop him.

A shiver ran through you, cold and unfamiliar, despite the warmth of the room. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the images to fade, but they refused to leave. The fire, the screams, Aerys’s hand on your arm, holding you close as if you were his anchor to reality. The weight of it pressed down on your chest, suffocating. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

For so long, you had been the one to control him, to temper his madness. You had been the one to stop him when no one else could. But now, you weren’t sure if you could even stop yourself.

The fire inside you—that fire—had been there since Harrenhal. You had felt it stir, felt it rise in response to Aerys’s madness, to the heat of the wildfire, to the sight of destruction. And today… today, it had grown stronger. It had fed off the flames, off Aerys’s touch, and for a brief, horrifying moment, you had felt a flicker of power.

You had enjoyed it.

The thought made you sick, made your stomach twist in knots, but it was the truth. You couldn’t deny it, couldn’t run from it. You had felt something shift inside you, something you had never wanted to acknowledge. Something that had always been there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to break free.

Was this what Aerys had felt all those years ago, when his madness had first taken root? Was this what it meant to be a dragon, to feel the fire burning so fiercely in your veins that you could no longer control it? Was this your fate, too?

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart, trying to ground yourself in the present. But the fear remained, gnawing at the edges of your mind, a constant reminder that something had broken inside you today. Something that might never be repaired.

You had always known there was darkness in Aerys, a madness that would one day consume him entirely. But you had never thought that it might consume you as well.

I’m not like him, you told yourself, though the words rang hollow in your mind. I’m not.

But even as you tried to reassure yourself, you felt the weight of doubt pressing down on you, suffocating you. You had felt that fire, had felt the power that came with it, and you couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t excited you, even if only for a moment.

What terrified you the most was the realization that perhaps—just perhaps—Aerys had been right. The fire in your veins was the same as his. You had always prided yourself on your ability to control it, to keep it at bay, but what if you couldn’t anymore? What if the fire consumed you, just as it had consumed him?

The door to the Throne Room creaked open behind you, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned slightly, your heart lurching in your chest, but it was only a servant, timid and quiet, waiting for you to dismiss them. You nodded faintly, signaling that you would leave soon, and the servant retreated quickly, leaving you alone once more.

Alone with your thoughts. Alone with your fears.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to move, to step away from the Iron Throne, away from the scene of destruction. But even as you walked, the weight of what had happened clung to you like a shadow, following your every step. The memory of Aerys’s hand on your arm, his voice in your ear, his lips pressing against your temple—it all lingered, refusing to fade.

You had stood there and watched as Aerys destroyed a man in the name of power. You had watched, and you had felt something stir inside you, something dark and dangerous. And now, you weren’t sure who you were anymore.

You had always been the one to save him. But now… who would save you?

The fire burned inside you, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

The candles in your chambers flickered gently, casting a soft glow as you prepared for bed. Your hands moved with automatic precision, brushing through your hair, smoothing out the fabric of your nightdress, though your mind was elsewhere. The events of the day replayed in your head, a twisted loop that refused to fade. Aerys’s wild laughter, the heat of the wildfire, the sight of Lord Brax consumed by flames—each memory clawed at your thoughts, refusing to let go.

You had hoped that retreating to your chambers would give you a moment of peace, but the weight of what had happened still pressed down on you, leaving you restless, uneasy. The fire that had stirred within you earlier still lingered, a strange warmth that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and before you could respond, a servant entered, their face pale and expression tight.

“Your Grace,” they said quietly, bowing their head. “The king has summoned you to his chambers.”

The words hit you like a cold gust of wind, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t the first time Aerys had called for you late at night—he often did, seeking you out when he felt the weight of his own madness pressing too heavily on his shoulders. You had grown accustomed to it, to sitting by his side as he spoke in circles about the burdens of kingship, the threats to House Targaryen, and the endless schemes he crafted to keep his enemies at bay. But tonight… something felt different. Off.

You swallowed the unease that rose in your throat and nodded to the servant. “Thank you. I’ll go at once.”

As the servant retreated, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. This was nothing new, you reminded yourself. You had done this countless times before. But as you made your way to Aerys’s chambers, a nagging feeling gnawed at the back of your mind. He had never called for you in the immediate aftermath of one of his wildfire burnings. There was something about tonight that felt… wrong.

When you reached the king’s chambers, Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne stood outside the door, their faces impassive as always. They had seen you come and go from the king’s chambers many times before, and they made no comment as they opened the door for you.

The heavy door closed behind you with a soft thud, and you stepped into the dimly lit room. The air was thick with the scent of wine and smoke, and the flickering light from the hearth cast long shadows across the stone walls. Aerys was seated near the fire, a goblet of wine in his hand, his silver hair falling in wild disarray around his face.

He looked up as you entered, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Ah, my daughter,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, but there was a strange edge to it tonight, a tension that set your nerves on edge. “Come. Sit with me.”

You approached him cautiously, the unease from earlier growing stronger with each step. Aerys extended a hand, gesturing to the goblet of wine beside him. “Join me for a drink,” he said, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. “We have much to discuss.”

You took the offered goblet, though your hand trembled slightly as you did. Sitting beside him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different from all the other nights he had summoned you. The air between you felt charged, as though something unspoken hung in the space between the two of you.

Aerys took a slow sip of his wine, watching you intently over the rim of his cup. His gaze lingered on you in a way that made your skin prickle, though you kept your expression carefully neutral.

“I’ve been thinking,” Aerys began, his voice soft but weighted, “about our family. About our blood. About the fire that burns within us.”

Your pulse quickened as he spoke, the memory of the wildfire from earlier that day still fresh in your mind. You remained silent, waiting for him to continue, though you could already sense where his thoughts were leading.

“We are the last dragons,” he murmured, his eyes drifting to the fire as it crackled and spat in the hearth. “You and I. The others… they do not understand. They are too weak. Too frightened. But you, my daughter… you understand. Don’t you?”

You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. You had heard these words before—Aerys had spoken them many times, weaving grand fantasies of fire and power, of a future where House Targaryen would rise again in flames. But tonight, there was something different in his tone. Something darker.

His hand, which had rested on the arm of his chair, began to move, sliding over your leg, his touch slow and deliberate. The movement sent a shiver through you, but you forced yourself to remain still, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You are my greatest weapon,” Aerys said softly, his fingers trailing higher, his gaze never leaving your face. “You have always been the one I could trust. The one who could carry the flame.”

His words, meant to be affectionate, felt like a heavy chain wrapping around you, binding you tighter to his madness. You could feel his breath on your neck, his touch growing more intimate, more invasive, as his hand slid further up your thigh. It took every ounce of control not to pull away, not to recoil from the weight of his attention.

“I have plans for us,” Aerys continued, his voice almost reverent. “Plans that will ensure our House reigns for a thousand years. And you, my sweet daughter… you will be at my side through it all.”

Your throat tightened as his hand gripped your leg, the intimacy of his touch sending a wave of revulsion through you. But you couldn’t show it. You couldn’t let him see the fear that was clawing at your chest, the horror that was slowly creeping into your veins.

Instead, you took a slow breath, keeping your voice as steady as you could. “What… what plans, Father?”

Aerys smiled, his hand moving dangerously higher, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oh, you’ll see,” he whispered, his voice low and fervent. “Together, we will burn away all the weakness in this world. We will be the fire that consumes it.”

His hand slid higher still, and a cold wave of realization washed over you. This was no longer the Aerys you had once known, no longer the man you had been able to reach. His madness had taken him beyond your grasp, beyond anyone’s. And now, there was no escape from the flames he had set alight—not for him, and not for you.

You stared into the fire, feeling its heat, feeling the weight of his touch, and for the first time, you wondered if you had already been consumed by the very flames you had spent so long trying to control.

Aerys’s voice droned on, growing softer, more intimate, with each passing second. His words were unsettling, woven with both longing and madness, and you barely registered them as his hand slid higher along your leg, more intrusively now, the weight of his touch unbearable. The firelight cast flickering shadows across the room, creating an eerie dance of light and dark that seemed to mirror the dangerous game you found yourself trapped in.

Your body tensed involuntarily, a small, instinctive flinch at the intimacy of his hand. Aerys noticed immediately, his fingers curling tighter around your thigh, and without warning, he yanked you to your feet, pulling you harshly against him. The sudden movement made you gasp softly, though you suppressed the sound as quickly as it escaped. His breath was hot against your face as he pulled you closer, so close that you could feel the erratic rhythm of his chest rising and falling.

His wild eyes burned with something feral as he leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, the scent of wine thick on his breath. The feverish intensity in his gaze was almost unbearable, and you struggled to keep your composure. But his words… his words sent shivers down your spine, each one more twisted than the last.

“You… you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Aerys whispered, his voice low and trembling with a mixture of desire and madness. “For years, I’ve imagined… so many things, my sweet daughter. All the things I would do to you if only you were mine—truly mine.”

His words felt like a knife twisting in your gut, and you closed your eyes, fighting the urge to recoil. Your mind raced, desperately searching for some way out, some way to stop what was happening, but there was nothing. You were trapped here, trapped by his madness, trapped by your duty. Trapped by the fire that now consumed you both.

Aerys’s breath brushed against your lips, his fingers tightening on your waist as he pressed you harder against him. You felt the heat of his body, the wildness of his heart, and yet something inside you refused to fight back. Perhaps it was exhaustion. Perhaps it was the weight of years spent trying to pull him back from the brink. Or perhaps it was something darker—something broken inside you, something you couldn’t name.

When you opened your eyes again, Aerys’s gaze was still fixed on you, burning with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. The madness in his eyes had not wavered, but there was something else there now, too. A flicker of vulnerability, of desperation. He had crossed a line from which there would be no return, and you could see that he knew it, even if he couldn’t admit it.

A great sadness passed through you, heavy and overwhelming, for both of you. For the father who had once been a king, now reduced to this—a creature consumed by his own demons. And for yourself, the daughter who had always tried to be strong, who had fought to hold onto the man he used to be. But in this moment, with his lips so close to yours, his madness pressing against your skin, you realized the truth.

There was no saving him. And maybe, there was no saving yourself.

Your hand lifted almost of its own accord, fingers trembling slightly as you reached up to caress his cheek. The gesture was gentle, almost tender, and outwardly it appeared like an act of reassurance, of comfort. But inside, it was something else. A final act of surrender, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable.

Aerys’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he leaned into your touch, his breath hitching slightly at the contact. And then, without warning, he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the woods, frantic and rough. This time, it was different—softer, but no less terrifying. His lips moved against yours with an unsettling reverence, as though you were something holy, something precious. You didn’t fight it this time. You didn’t push him away. You simply stood there, letting it happen, your mind numb and your heart heavy.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly behind you, the only sound in the room save for your shallow breathing and the steady thrum of Aerys’s heartbeat against your chest. His kiss deepened, and still, you did nothing. You had fought for so long, but now… now you were tired. So very tired.

When Aerys finally pulled away, his lips lingering just a moment longer than they should have, he didn’t look at you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath ragged and uneven. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, his grip tight, as though he was afraid you might slip away if he let go.

“We will burn the world together,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You and I. The last dragons.”

You closed your eyes again, unable to respond. The sadness inside you had grown too large, too consuming, and you could no longer find the words to fight against the tide. You simply stood there, letting his words wash over you like a wave, knowing that they would drown you both in the end.

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ enemies to lovers hc’s

warnings: swearing, alcohol.

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: ̗̀➛ rafe cameron, nasty little boy turned chivalrous gentlemen? she couldn’t even begin to fathom it.

: ̗̀➛ he was the boy who pulled her hair in class, and tripped her over in the hallway, leaving her to pick up loose pieces of paper and books, while he laughed from afar at her despair.

: ̗̀➛ she hated him, she hated him so much that even just his name had her blood boiling.

: ̗̀➛ to put it into words would be pointless really, cause the name rafe itself turned her into a word-vomiting mess.

: ̗̀➛ “a fucking jerk” and “a slimy, arrogant asshole” was the best her friends could make out once she started.

: ̗̀➛ oh, but he hated her too. he hated her pretty pink dresses, and the way she knew every answer in class, and how she’d never give a boy like him a second thought.

: ̗̀➛ but was it really hatred? or just longing? — longing for the girl who buried her nose in romance novels too long for him to even catch her eye.

: ̗̀➛ he’d never admit it though, of course not. y/n y/l/n? well, she was just a stuck up bitch who wore too much fuckin’ pink.

: ̗̀➛ yet, when she landed a part time gig at the island club, he couldn’t help but find himself there everyday, same place, same spot.

: ̗̀➛ “you gonna serve me sweetheart?” he’d tease, that same slimy smirk on his face— just like when they were eleven, this time he was taller, way taller, and he’d buzzed his hair.

: ̗̀➛ “you get the same thing everyday rafe, i’m not a moron” she’d bite back, rolling her eyes as his lingered on her hips, noticing the new way in which they swayed, nothing like the girl he knew years back— braces and pigtails.

: ̗̀➛ “you’re different..but i can’t put my finger on it” he hummed on a bland, tuesday afternoon once, leaning over the bar counter for a closer look. “it’s crazy how people change over the years, don’t you think?”

: ̗̀➛ “it’s a shame you’re still an asshole then..”

: ̗̀➛ “woah, you’ve definitely gained some confidence kid”

: ̗̀➛ one more roll of the eyes was given as she slid the whiskey glass across the counter, quickly turning away in search for another customer, but unfortunately for her, at four o’clock in the afternoon, he was the only one.

: ̗̀➛ “i’m not an asshole though, at least not anymore” he argued, taking a swift swig of his drink, relishing in the burn travelling down his throat. “oh yeah?” she’d scoff, leaning back against the opposite counter as she twirled a rag in her hand.

: ̗̀➛ “mhm, and i can prove it— if you let me take you out somewhere?”

: ̗̀➛ her eyes widened as she suddenly choked on her own breath, staring at him as if he was insane.

: ̗̀➛ “me? you want to take me out?” she gasped, almost scrambling to pick her jaw up from the floor.

: ̗̀➛ rafe would be utterly confused, completely baffled as to why she was so shocked. “i mean yeah? i asked you didn’t i?”

: ̗̀➛ y/n could hardly think straight, she was lucky the question didn’t knock her off her feet.

: ̗̀➛ no, no, no was on the tip of her tongue, but her mind couldn’t help but drift off to her inner eight year old, the one who stared at him across the room, longing for him to notice her.

: ̗̀➛ “is this some sort of sick joke?” her eyes narrowed, inching cautiously toward him.

: ̗̀➛ it took a good while for him to convince her he was being serious— that he wanted to take her on a date.

: ̗̀➛ “okay fine— you know where i live?”

: ̗̀➛ “of course, ‘pick you up at seven sweetheart”

: ̗̀➛ after clocking out for the day, you can bet your money she ran home, struggling to suppress the excitement while she rummaged through her closet, searching through the perfect thing.

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