#it's been like 2 months from the last one of these

[xervn]

melatonin | 2

two-shot | enemies to fuckers sevika x reader

pt. 1

ao3 link

summary: the aftermath.

18+ MDNI | 3.5k words | tags; canon divergence, sevika is a little mean, reader is a brat, angst?, very light sub/dom, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, porn w/ plot-ish, no use of y/n

i rewrote this so many times, but here we are... mama i made it..

It’s not what you were expecting. It’s not how you saw things moving forward—not at all. 

Anyone would agree that you two shared a passionate night. Sevika fucked the insomnia out of you. 

So how’d she manage to make you hate her more?

When you woke up, Sevika was on her side of the room, adjusting her deep red poncho. She noticed you were awake and went straight to barking orders at you and proceeded with her thousandth attempt to get you to follow her schedule, which never worked.

It was as if last night didn't happen, and it was all a lucid, raunchy dream with deep moans you could still replay in your head. However, you woke up missing more clothes than you remembered taking off, so you knew that wasn't the case.

You decided to pass her crankiness off as stress, since it was a big day and all, but she only seemed crankier after the meeting. 

Don’t be fooled; you aced it. Your negotiating skills have always been top tier, and you’re incredibly personable, especially with good sleep on your side. You were so buddy-buddy with the Bilgewater traders, they invited you to their pub that night for drinks and karaoke. Exactly your style, a fun offer, but you declined. Declined because you were positive Sevika was going to give you congratulatory sex. Wrong. She gave you nothing but pure silence. 

You can hear hints of humor or sarcasm weaved into words, but you can’t hear any of that in silence. Was she mad at you? Jealous of you? Annoyed by you? 

It reminded you of when you first met Sevika, a time when you tried super hard to impress her, but everything you did ticked her off. You were so good at making friends with clients; total strangers, but not Sevika, even after months of trying. It hurt especially more since you had a massive crush—one everyone but her knew about; Ran still teases you about it from time to time. 

When you think back on it, you’re embarrassed. It shouldn’t have taken you a year to finally get on her case about it, but when you did, there was less judgmental silence and more words. Not the nicest words, but at least it created a semblance of balance—honesty that wasn’t outweighed by one-sided affection. But after that meeting, it was like it all reverted to square one. Silence and one-sided affection. 

That triggered you. 

So, what was it that you were expecting? Marriage? A gold medal? 

No, it was something much simpler. Kindness. The smallest amount of chivalry would’ve made you swoon, but she didn’t give you any. She continued to be the dickhead you were used to, and what did you do? 

You continued to be the dickhead she was used to, obviously. Amplified it even. There’s no such thing as being the bigger person in your dictionary. Not for this. If there’s anything you were bigger at, it was being a bigger cunt. If she was going low, you were going lower—and you stuck to it.

-

Days after the trip, you still haven’t talked to Sevika out of solidarity with yourself. Nothing but surface-level words have been exchanged between you two since that day. No witty remarks, no unnecessary teasing, no fruitless arguments. 

To be fair, there’s nothing you want to talk about. You’re too upset and ashamed. At the time, you couldn’t even discard the little dignity you had left to ask her to “help” you one last time because she factory reset you, and you slept like a baby all night. 

That is until now. Sevika’s magic has worn off, and you’re falling back into your regular routine of staying up late and getting wasted so you don’t have to watch the sunrise for a third time in a row. It wouldn’t be such a bother if you weren’t thinking about her every single night. 

Or during the day when someone says her name and the hairs on your arms stick up. Or when she’s a glance away and your body starts to think you're in a sauna. 

It was undeniable; you still have a crush. As obnoxious as the day it blossomed. You hate it. You should be hating her now more than ever, but your heart is fucking you over, and you’re sleep-deprived and pent up on top of it.

You’ve found yourself fantasizing about and craving a woman that has most likely moved on. It’s pathetic, and it shows you have no backbone, meaning it’s only a matter of time before you do something you will regret forever. 

You couldn’t back down, not after your dramatic promise to yourself that you weren’t going to let her play you again. 

Thankfully, fate graced you with an opportunity to redeem yourself. Silco put you on another short trip back to the port city, and he assigned Sevika to accompany you—expecting her to, since he didn’t bother to call her to his office because of how often you work together.

That meant the ball was in your court, so you did something neither you nor Sevika had ever had the guts to do.

You protested. 

Well, you lied. You told him that Sevika didn’t want to work with you anymore and that it’d be better for you to go with someone else. It’s probably not far from the truth anyway, but honestly, you thought he’d give you a speech about life or ask you to tell her to get over it. Maybe even a ‘fuck off,’ but instead he said, “Very well,” and shooed you out of his office. 

So now you’re at a loss because you didn’t think that far ahead. You didn’t really give it much thought at all and figured, realistically, both of you should be happy in the end. You knew it meant you’d see Sevika less, but you managed to convince yourself you were fine with it; that it was for the best.

“It’s probably the best decision I’ve ever made,” you tell Ran, who’s fiddling with the straw in their drink as they listen to you talk. Laughter, drinks clinking, and jukebox music makes for good background noise. “I’m just shocked, y’know? If I knew he’d accept it so quickly, I would’ve asked earlier.” You laugh half-heartedly. 

Ran twirls around the straw in their cup. “Didn’t I tell you it was that easy?”

You freeze. “Yes, but…”

“You still wanted to work with her.” They grin, going in for a sip.

“No! I genuinely thought he’d be against it.." You grumble.

“Right, right… Well, it’s good news then. You should be happy. Maybe we’ll be assigned together.”

Your eyes light up at the possibility. “That’d be great! There’s this pub I wanted to go to, but…“ You trail off when the bar goes incredibly quiet. There are a few whispers here and there, some more frantic than the others.

Loud, heavy footsteps pound against the wooden flooring, and you notice the pace picking up as the sound travels closer to you. 

You’re not allowing yourself to get ambushed at a time like this, so you turn, and, great heavens, there’s Sevika. 

Your chest, down to your stomach, twists uncomfortably. You’re surprised to see her, and she looks irritated to see you. Her face is plain, but there’s still a prominent frown on her lips.. 

“You.” 

You look around, pretending you’re not sure who she targeted that towards. By now, the bar has resumed its chatter, but Ran has moved three seats down. They give you a little finger wave before turning to the bartender. 

You slowly look up at Sevika, pointing to yourself, “Me?” You question jokingly.

“Get up; let’s go.” She gestures for you to start moving.

You laugh sarcastically, turning away from her on your stool. “Fuck off.” 

A large hand lands on your bicep and pulls. You stagger backwards and onto your feet before you fall over. “What the f—? Let go of me!” 

Sevika says nothing and makes her way to the back of the building, forcing you to walk haphazardly through chairs and tables. Your face warms and contorts in embarrassment, given you’re being dragged to who knows where like you’re a misbehaving toddler. 

You begrudgingly follow along, not that you had much of a choice, and she stops in front of a supply closet. 

“Open it.” She commands monotonously.

You don’t know why, but you do it; you open it. You don’t even question it, and you deserve it when she shoves you in there. 

Her mechanical arm whirs as you stumble in, and it makes a short appearance to slam the door behind herself. Then everything turns blurry in a flash, and your back is suddenly hitting the door. 

“What did you do?” She asks through her teeth.

You try to yank your arm free, but she doesn’t budge. “What did I do? Why are you so angry? Can you fucking let me go?!”

“What did you tell Silco?”

Your heart drops, and your expression must’ve shown it because Sevika groans. You interject, “I told him what you couldn’t.”

“And what is that?”

“You don’t want to work with me.”

Sevika looks at the ceiling for strength, shutting her eyes. She takes a deep breath in. “When did I ever say that?” 

“You don’t have to; I can read it off you.” 

Sevika’s eyes suddenly meet yours, and you flinch. “Yeah? What are you reading now?”

You frantically search, and you stutter, “You’re—you’re pissed?”

“Yes, I’m fucking pissed, Einstein. Did I ask you to make decisions for me?” 

God, you have no idea why she’s so mad about it. Your breathing is picking up, and you don’t know if it’s because of conflict or the fact she hasn’t been this close to you in what feels like ages. “No, but you can stop acting like you’ve never wanted to.” 

“Why do you care? If I wanted to, I would.” She states.

“Sure. You must’ve loved working with Jinx then, huh?”

Sevika looks away to sigh loudly. “That’s not the same thing.” 

“Isn’t it? You don’t like me either—“

“What is your problem? Why don’t you just admit that it’s you who doesn’t want to work with me? It’s you who doesn’t like me.” She spits. Her jaw clenches as she calms down. “I’m ‘difficult’ now because of you. I’d like one day—one week—without Silco complaining when I’m doing my best.” She sighs.

Your mind goes blank. “I’m—I didn’t know he’d say that… He seemed okay with it, and I didn’t know you’d be upset.” You utter, completely guilt-ridden.

“I swear—you only think about yourself. Fuck everyone else living, right?”

“What? No, I didn’t…”

“Didn’t think? Do you think?” She exasperates.

It works, and you huff. “I thought you would be jumping for joy. Why aren’t you fucking ecstatic?” You ask angrily.

“Nothing about this is good for me. Or you. Unless you think Dustin can protect you.” She scoffs.

“Dustin? Well… well…” You didn’t think about that. 

You abandon the sentence. “You can be mad, but not this mad. I should be this mad. We did things together. Things you don’t try to forget about, and that’s what you—looked like you did.” You say, correcting yourself because you’ve learned your lesson from assuming things. 

Sevika looks heavily perplexed. “You’re the one who stopped talking to me.”

“No, actually, you are. Not to mention your first words to me the morning after we fucked were, ‘You have twenty minutes.’”

“You had twenty minutes. Did you want a ‘good morning, baby’ first?” She scoffs, shaking her head.

Your stomach does a somersault. “I don’t know.” 

Sevika pauses, making what feels like judgy eye contact with you. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that you acted like nothing happened and went straight to being bossy.”

“Huh. I thought you liked that.” She replies, and there’s something in the way she said it that makes your legs falter.

“When did I ever—“ The air changed, you notice. “When did I ever like that…?” 

Sevika studies your face for a few seconds. The silence is unnerving. It’s like time slowed, because you have no idea when she’ll speak or what she’ll say. “Somewhere between you moaning my name and cumming on my fingers.” She bluntly states.

You choke on your spit, coughing. There were a million different ways that could’ve gone. Most of them sounded like that, but it still caught you off guard.

“What? You said I forgot about it. I’m trying to jog up my memory,” she teases.

You frown, but it comes off as endearing, so much so it makes Sevika awe. “Don’t you want me to remember? I’m remembering.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you acted no different from the day before, and you never, y’know, came to me again after that either.” 

Then regret starts rushing in. You used to curse your friends out when they got back with their shitty situationships. You know what it feels like now. You can’t believe you alluded to sex, let alone wanting it at a time like this, but she did it first, to be fair.

You two stare at each other for several beats. 

“Came to you?” A smile begins to form on Sevika’s lips.

You shake your head, as unconcerned as you can make it. “Shut up. Forget I said anything.“

Her head tilts slightly. She looks you up and down. “I don’t think I will.” 

You exhale loudly, "I'm so serious."

"No, really, tell me what you meant by that. "

"You know exactly what I meant."

She perks an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes in response. She huffs out a laugh.

Sevika swivels you around so you’re facing the door, so fast you have to catch yourself with both hands so you don’t face-plant into it. "What are you—!"

Her flesh hand slides across your waist, and then she suddenly jerks you towards her, making you bend over just enough for you to poke out.

In contrast to how she was manhandling you before, she slowly presses herself against your ass but makes sure to hold her place firmly, like she was planning on leaving a print there, rolling her hips into you as if she doesn’t wanna miss a spot. 

Leaning over you, she whispers, “This is what you wanted, right?” So close to your ear, you can feel her words brushing against it. Your whole body shudders, and all your sexual frustration starts to unravel.

You peer back at her with a glare that’s too clouded with lust to be intimidating. “You’re so full of yourself.” 

“You love it,” She replies, so surely, because you haven’t noticed how desperately you’ve been backing into her, chasing the sliver of friction she gave you a moment ago. She drifts her hand towards your front, and between the legs you immediately begin parting for her. "But I could stop..."

"Don't." You interrupt. You don't have to see her to know she's got on an egotistical grin.

Four fingers feel down your covered cunt, then back up, lingering at your clit with purpose. Your thighs threaten to close around Sevika’s hand, and you pathetically whine out her name. 

She hums questioningly, knowing she wasn’t getting an answer from you. She finds the waistband of your pants, shoving her hand underneath, panties and all. The warm heat and slickness of your wetness meet her palm. “You really love it.”

You inhale sharply, placing your forehead against the door. “ I hate you...”

She laughs darkly, and her fingers part meticulously over your folds, massaging your clit between her fingers. “Is that what we’re doing? I 'hate' you too,” she says, “I’ll show you.”

You moan at that, and Sevika harmonizes. You don’t feel an ounce of shame. All your self-respect left when you opened the door. “Please.” 

Sevika's finger presses against your entrance teasingly. It doesn’t take much longer before she slides two fingers in you; her middle and ring, and scissors them in you so you adjust to the size of them properly. You groan, muffling yourself into the back of your hand. The heel of her palm is so close, yet so far from your clit, and you still need it there. 

It was as if she read your mind. Sevika brings her hand closer, and her fingers curl in you as a result. They slowly straighten out, then curl again, straighten out, curl in, and now she’s restlessly fucking her fingers into you while you needily hump into the palm of her big, scarred hand. All that movement makes it messy, but messy feels so good. 

So much heavy breathing and pitchy whines. You’re trying your hardest not to make noise, but all your best attempts are strained and guttural. It drives Sevika insane. They’re better than she remembered. “Stop trying. Let them hear how much you hate me.” She murmurs against you.

You lightly shake your head, refusing to do something so mortifying yet so fucking hot—in theory. Until cold metal fingers appear under your jaw. “C’mon, baby, please?” She coos.

There’s the first crack in your metaphorical dam. Your legs start wobbling. “Fuck—I h—hate you.” You pant out, not entirely because she asked you to; you were a little upset with how well she threw that pet name in there. 

It makes her chuckle. “You said I never ’came to you,’ but I’ll tell you a little secret,” she says, breath staggering from her constant movement, “I came to the thought of your fucked-out face last night,” she confesses. You sob out her name, and she soothes it with a full kiss on your cheek; so unexpected, you can feel your heart lurch forward. “And the day before, and the day before that, and—you get it, yeah? I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”  

You’re getting closer; pussy tensing, and your heart is racing. So much to process in such little time. “… I missed you.” You breathlessly whisper. You missed her tangents, her nagging, and the dumb fucking arguments. You missed her; it was true, and you admitted it to her before you admitted it to yourself.

“Did you?” She asks softly. You can tell she’s really wondering. Her fingers still haven’t slowed down a bit, however.

“Mhmm—shit—wait.” You’re on the brink of undoing, and you don’t know if you can speak any further.

Sevika presses herself closer to you. “Tell me one more time.” She gruffly demands, like it was a need. It may as well be.

Your anticipated orgasm fills up to the brim; your eyes press shut. “I m—I missed you so,” you come; your moans are barely controllable, and your hips are stuttering against her hand, “s—ugh—much, Sev...”

Sevika’s mech hand turns your face towards her, and your heavy eyes momentarily widen when her lips meet yours in a fervent kiss. She removes her fingers from you, and when you cry at the loss, she slides her tongue across yours—that shuts you up real quick. She leaves her hand there, just so you can grind out your orgasm a little longer. 

Sevika stopped letting her brain control her; she wasn't going to let it get in the way of this. She's been dreaming about kissing you since she realized it was an option.

You didn’t know how badly you needed to kiss her. You weren’t sure you’d ever, but with how perfectly her lips feel on yours, this can’t be the last time. You really hope it’s not the last time.

But you pull away. “What is this...?” You ask shakily, trying to catch your breath.

Sevika’s eyes keep flickering to your kiss swollen lips, clearly drunk on them; she doesn’t understand what you’re saying yet. “What’s what?”

“This. What are we doing? Is it just—just sex like you said it was?”

Sevika zones back in, and there’s a lump in her throat. She can’t say she never said that, because she did. She swallows hard, retracting her hand from between your thighs, and gently turns you around so you’re facing her. 

She says your name, “It has never been ‘just sex.’ It would never be that with you.”

You try to assess the validity of that, staring at her doubtingly. “You ignored me the entire day after.” You mention.

Sevika’s face warms up, and she looks to the side. “I got jealous.”

Your brows furrow. “Of what?”

“You were so friendly with those Bilgewater folks, and it pissed me off,” she grumbles. “Then I got frustrated with myself, because I’m the reason you hate me. At the time, it made sense to go back to how it was before,” she exhales sadly, “I’m sorry.”

You awkwardly play with your hands. Sevika frowns, hoping you say something soon. “The reason why I stopped talking to you wasn’t because I hate you; I thought you did, so I... I don't know what to say other than I’m incredibly petty and childish. I’m sorry—and I shouldn’t have said anything to Silco either.” 

“I wouldn’t let you go without me anyways.” She looks so serious when she says that, but you can’t help but giggle. It’s going to take a while for you guys to get through all your apologies properly, but this is a good start.

“I do prefer you, so...” You add, smiling up at her coyly.

She has a grin—the big win kind—and you gravitate towards her for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. It’s much gentler and warmer than the first time. You’re sure there’ll be more where that came from. 

—

“Ran, hey.” You take a seat by them, wanting to wrap things up before you go. Quickly too, since Sevika is waiting.

“Hey,” they reply, eyeing you oddly, “I went to check on you earlier; make sure Sevika wasn’t dismembering you or something, but it sounded super scary in there, like you really hated her, so I ran away…” They pretend to cower in fear before sputtering out a laugh.

“Alright then. Goodnight.” You silently get up and start walking out. Ran’s laughter doubles.

[wandascosmic]

hii! could you write one with kinda emo aou wanda, with i hate everyone but you vibes, dating reader who’s more popular than wanda? just their cute little moments together

because of you (request)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: in which wanda was initially the prickly new member of the avengers, however you quickly became her greatest friend.

word count: 1416

tags: unedited, fluff, wanda's got a huge crush on you, a little bit of i hate everyone but you vibes but i've never really written it before so i hope i did you justice!! emo wanda being the little baby we all love (this is also like my sorta first time writing emo wanda too so my writing horizons expanded quite a bit with this request, she's genuinely just very cute though

“You have to be cheating,” Sam says angrily, slumping on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest, slamming his controller down beside him. 

“Nope,” you respond with a grin, pleased with yourself for beating Sam at yet another video game. “You just suck.” 

Sam narrows his eyes, before rising up once again in determination. “One more round, only this time you’re handicapped by giving me a five second head start.” 

“Sure,” you agree, already prepared to win for the 15th time in a row. 

However, before you and Sam can start your video game, a tired Sokovian witch makes her way into the living room. 

“Oh, hey, Wanda,” Sam says to your girlfriend who stands beside you, immediately wrapping her arms around your shoulder. 

Wanda ignores him, and instead asks you, “Where were you?” against your neck.

“I promised Sam I would play Mario Kart with him last night,” you explain. “I bet him 50 bucks I could win 10 rounds in a row, and guess what, I’m at 70 now!” 

“Not for long!” Sam interrupts. 

“Want to stay and watch?” you ask Wanda, who hesitates for a split second, not really wanting the company of anyone else except for you, but ends up agreeing with a small nod.

You shift over on the couch to make room for her, and she immediately sits down and rests her head on your shoulder while you begin another round against Sam. 

You end up winning about 150 bucks that day. 

***

Wanda had been part of the team for about 7 months now, and you had quickly become her closest friend in the first 2. 

Wanda, at her most vulnerable and lowest moments was still riding on a lot of the guilt from Ultron, add the fact that she had just lost her only family member and best friend, and the fact that she was already a bit prickly to begin with, it was safe to say that the majority of the team was too scared of what could happen to them if they even attempted to get close to her. 

Wanda was okay with that at the time, she wanted the freedom to grieve without the added pressure of someone counting on her.

However, you were an exception. 

You broke down the walls that had been built so far up after lost plagued Wanda’s life.

Every time she would protest, you stayed, no matter what.

She was a mess, and over time you became her safe haven.

You helped her grieve, helped her overcome her anger, her sadness, and you became her hope. 

Now, Wanda could never get enough of you.

You were her best friend, and she was yours. 

Wanda was eternally grateful for your existence.

“Y/N?” Wanda asked, one month into your friendship you laying on her shoulder watching the sitcom on the TV from her bed. 

“Hm?” you responded. 

“Thank you,” Wanda said, hoping you could understand every single hidden word she wanted to convey as best she could.

You smiled up at her, “Anytime.” 

***

“Wow, Wanda, what’s got you so grumpy?” Tony asks, noticing Wanda’s very apparent frown. 

“She hasn’t seen Y/N in two days,” Nat says with a grin. “Y/N’s mission from Monday got extended last night, so now she won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” 

Wanda glared at Natasha before going back to pouring her cereal. 

“Come on, Nat,” Steve says as he walks in. “I think it’s sweet.” 

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t,” Natasha says, holding up her hands in surrender. 

Wanda’s frown deepened, despite the truthfulness to everything they were saying. 

“Come on, Wanda,” Steve said as he came around the counter to pat the witch on her back. “Just one more day.” 

Wanda nodded quietly, making her way back to her bedroom to eat her cereal and wait for your return.

***

You came back at 6AM, and your face softened as you saw Wanda laying on top of your covers, very clearly having been waiting for your return by the sitcom still running on your TV in the background. 

Carefully you kneeled beside her on the bed, gently shaking her awake. 

Wanda stirred awake slowly, looking around disoriented before she saw your face, her eyes lighting up and immediately wrapping her arms around you. “You’re back,” she whispered. 

“I was only gone 3 days,” you reply in amusement.

“Don’t care,” Wanda says, hugging you tighter. 

You hug her back in return, letting go after a few minutes to go take a shower and change into your pajamas, and Wanda doing the same. 

Then, at 6:30AM, the two of you go to bed together, and spend the rest of the day wrapped in each other’s arms. 

***

“So, what is it you want my help with?” Natasha asks, secretly gleeful at seeing the shy side of Wanda for once behind all her sharp edges. 

“I want you to help me set up Y/N’s birthday party,” Wanda says shyly, looking down at her shoes. 

“Oh, Wanda, we’re gonna have a blast,” Natasha replies, walking over to Wanda and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leading her to go grab the supplies. 

***

Wanda would never admit it, except maybe to you, but she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for your birthday.

You had been the only one to help her when she needed it, and every time she felt like she was too sharp, too mean, too prickly, you accepted her with unwavering kindness.

You were the only thing that made Wanda feel seen after Pietro’s death. 

And so, she needed you to see how grateful she was with everything inside of her. 

“Okay, so we’re gonna get balloons, streamers, the food and drinks, cutlery, decorations, then the cake tomorrow?” Wanda asks Natasha as the two grab everything for your birthday tomorrow.

“Yep, Tony’s money is finally going towards something useful,” Natasha says, making Wanda look over towards her curiously. “Your love for your girlfriend,” she explains.

Wanda slaps Nat’s arm in return, though she does end up blushing for the next 5 minutes. 

***

“Oh, god, what if she doesn’t like it?” Wanda asks, nervous since it’s only one hour before you’re supposed to arrive back at the compound.

Natasha pats Wanda on the back reassuringly. “It’s gonna be fine, Wanda. Truthfully it came from you, and she loves anything you do for her no matter what.” 

Wanda nods, nervously playing with her rings in anticipation.

“Can she hurry back already,” Sam groans. “I wanna eat the cake already. Wanda glares angrily at him. 

“Careful, Sam,” Nat warns playfully. “If you mess that cake up a single bit Wanda might magic you into a pickled herring.” 

Sam looks over to Wanda who’s eyes glow red in a threatening manner. 

Sam holds up his arms in surrender. 

Wanda ends up switching between being nervous and stopping Sam, Bucky, and Tony from accidentally doing something that might harm your party, and suddenly an hour has gone by.

“Y/N’s on her way back right now!” Tony calls out after asking FRIDAY. “She’s gonna be up here in two minutes!” 

“Okay, everyone hide!” Natasha yells out, grabbing Wanda to hide with her behind the counter as everyone sprawls out across the upstairs floor. 

“Please say she likes it, please say she likes it,” Wanda mutters under her breath in her hiding place so no one can hear her.

Though Nat’s absurdly good hearing foils her plan. “She’ll love it, Wanda.” 

Wanda hums in response, taking a reassuring breath before waiting to surprise you. 

“Thirty seconds everyone!” Tony calls out after FRIDAY notifies him on his watch.

3…2…1…

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Everyone calls out after you finally make your way up the stairs.

You barely register the shock before you’re smiling widely. 

“This was all Wanda,” Nat tells you, causing you to look towards the witch who looks incredibly sheepish.

“Everyone helped,” Wanda mumbles.

“Really?” you shake your head before making your way over to your girlfriend and kissing her fiercely. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“I needed a way to show you how grateful I am that you saved me,” Wanda tells you.

“Well, you saved me too,” you reply. “You made everything so much better.” 

Wanda’s eyes light up at your confession, and she hugs you tightly, causing you to laugh and wrap your arms around her. 

“Now, how about we enjoy my birthday together, hm? This will be the best one yet because of you.”

[starlighttsv]

Milestones - p.b

Sum: short milestones with your daughter

Warnings: fluff

Note: I don’t know if I like this, I might delete and rewrite later 🥲 requested by @melpthatsme

Pair: stepmom!Paige x mom!Gfreader

Wc: 1.5k

You and Paige have now been dating for 4 years, you guys met when your baby girl was 4 months old and you were just a month single.

Your baby daddy isn’t in either of your lives since you left him as he…isn’t the best person to be around. Meeting Paige and getting into a relationship with her was all new to you. She treated you like a Queen, she spoiled you and your daughter, she didn’t make you get up at 3-4 in the morning to clean - actually she let you sleep in until how ever late you wanted - taking care of your daughter while you slept, she didn’t make you cook when you didn’t feel like it, she didn’t make you go out and do her errands for her. All like your ex did, instead you both took 50/50 on everything and that was new to you. You’ve only had two exs but those two exes? Most terrible things to exist.

Not only was the way of your guy’s relationship new to you but also dating a girl is new to you. You’ve only ever been with guys so everything was a learning process that Paige was happy to help with.

She’s loved your daughter like she was her own since you introduced them and she’s been the greatest figure to be in Gracie’s life since. She always wants to read books to her, take her to practice, film TikTok’s with her, she loves being a parental figure to Grace even if she’s not biologically her mom.

She’s been there for every milestone - something your baby daddy can’t say. Her first steps,

You and Paige were laying cuddled up on the couch watching Grace crawl on the floor adventuring and messing with things, “thank you for letting me be a part of her life” Paige mumbles into your ear making you look up at her face “thank you for letting us be in your life” you say holding eye contact with her

She just smiles a little bit and leans in kissing you on your lips, you guys pull away after a few seconds and turn back to watching grace - the only difference from then and now is that she’s now standing up on her feet holding the table under the tv.

You and Paige both gasp a little immediately sitting up wondering if todays the day she takes her first steps - she’s been standing up for the last 4 days but she would plop down a little bit after - something she hasn’t done yet.

“Come here baby, come to mama” you say in your overly excited baby voice clapping your hands so her attention is on you. Which does work - her eyes find you and Paige and she immediately has a cheeky smile on her face

Paige gets up from the couch walking to the kitchen and grabbing some baby snacks the grace likes and sits down on the carpet leaving a big gap in between her and grace

“C’mere princess, I have your treats” Paige starts bribing making you laugh but also get off the couch and sit next to Paige

When Grace sees you together and the treats she lets go of the table and starts taking a few steps, making you and Paige cheer

“That’s it, good job baby, c’mere” Paige says holding out both her hands one holding the snacks and one free

Grace immediately grabs her hand with snacks and starts eating them while Paige pulls her to sit on her lap so she doesn’t lose balance

Her first words,

It was gonna be a late practice for Paige and the team so you decided to make some snack bags for them and drive to gampel to give them their bags, so that’s what you’ve been doing for the last 3 1/2 hours.

Making goodies and putting them in baggies while grace happily bounces away in her bouncer while watching bluey.

After you had everything bagged and put in a container to easily carry you loaded up the car and put Grace in her car seat - driving to gampel and going to the practice gym. Geno loves you and Grace so when he sees you walk in he calls for a 5 minute break allowing everyone to see you and grace.

Paige walks over to you and kisses you before going to the front of the stroller and folding the blanket back so she can see Grace “hi Gracie baby” Paige says in her baby voice picking Grace up and holding her to her front

All of the girls huddle around you guys all just talking and laughing, Paige passed Grace off to Caroline letting her hold Grace while paige went back you and brought you into her side “how was your day?” Paige asked you while the other girls we’re talking and gushing over Gracie

“Good, I spent the last few hours baking” Paige just turned her head to look at you “oh yeah? Baking what?”

“Cookies and brownies. I made you guys all baggies.” You say holding up one of the baggies from the container in the stroller to show Paige

She grasps the bag opening it and looking inside “aww baby you didn’t have to do this” Paige says bringing you closer into her side and kissing you on the forehead “I wanted to. I knew it was going to be a late practice and Gracie wanted to see you” you say into her side looking up at her

She just leans down and kisses you but you guys get interrupted “ma…mama”

You both immediately look at Gracie seeing she’s holding her hands out for both of you while the UConn girls have gone quiet and was also just looking at Gracie

Her first day of kindergarten,

You and Paige were already up at 6 in the morning because you both were nervous for Gracie’s first day of kindergarten even though you guys didn’t have to leave until 7:30

“What if the kids don’t like her and bully her?” you say starting to chew on your nails

“Babe, baby hey” Paige says walking up to you and taking your hand from your mouth holding them in hers “the kids will like her and even if they don’t who cares what they think? If they start bullying her we’ll file a complaint ok? She’s gonna do just fine” Paige says pulling you into her arms and kissing you on the forehead

Eventually once time passed it was time for kindergarten, Paige got Gracie dressed and ready while you made breakfast, while she was eating the eggs and sausage you made her - you where packing her lunch while paige was packing her backpack

Once everything was done you and paige both grabbed all of your stuff and all of Gracie’s and headed out to the car. Paige was driving to the elementary school and then was gonna drop you off at your building and then head to the gym. You were trying not to cry the whole way to the elementary and paige noticed like she always does, and put her hand on your thigh rubbing her thumb in comforting circles.

When you guys got to the school you both got out with Paige grabbing Graces bag while you unbuckle her and set her on the ground

“Alright baby, be good and have a good day alright?” She just nods and hugs you and then hugs Paige

You and Paige both talked to her teacher that was standing outside before letting Gracie leave into the building with her.

Paige immediately pulls you into a hug once she knows Gracie can’t see you both anymore

“She’s gonna be fine”

Or when shot her first basketball

Paige has been trying to teach Gracie basketball for the last 3 days now, it’s only taken this long because Paige is letting her confidence speak rather than her soft maternal voice speak and that’s causing so much confusion for the toddler

Currently Paige has been trying to teach her defense - trying to go easy on Gracie as there is a gaint height difference…obviously

But once she realized that wasn’t working started trying to teach her to shoot, making Gracie stand on a diy free throw area

“Alright bend your knees and put your arms like this” Paige says moving Gracie’s arms in the position they should be in

“Alright now shoot” Paige says stepping away from Gracie and watching her jump up and release the ball, watching it make its way to the small plastic basketball hoop you guys have in the living room

“Yesss” Paige cheer’s running up to Gracie and picking her up and starts ticking her “you just shot your first basket”

Paige is running around with Gracie in her arms cheering and smiling and Gracie is laughing away in her arms, you just watch them lovingly from the couch.

So you couldn’t care less about your baby girl growing up without a father because she has Paige, and yes Paige isn’t her father but she is an amazing mother to Gracie. So what that she has two moms. She’s learning way more with two moms then she would’ve with just one mom and a deadbeat father.

[cupcakeslushie]

Now that 2024 is coming to a close:

1) Of everything you've made this year, which ones are you the most proud of?

2) What are a few of your favorite things (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

1. Probably these two? (I’m leaving out EW comic pages, because I’m so happy to have finished another arc! So that whole thing counts as one lol). Also a pic of my big crawfish piece that sold after six months of putting it out at every market!! I’m very proud of it and happy it went to a good home!

2. This is much harder because there’s an insane amount that had me like 🤩 this year….

This piece of my angry boy, by @kathaynesart! It’s still my iPhone wallpaper!! She nailed the pose and the atmosphere!! He looks so badass!

This piece by @matchstique has also been my laptop screen for so long! (I also loved every single submission for this dtiys! It was my first time doing one, and I’ll definitely be doing another at some point. All the submission were so sweet, and amazing!

@tizeline drew me this for our secret Santa discord exchange and I love it!!!! It’s been my iPad screen! There’s so much whimsy and silliness 😂!!

As for fanfics I’ve been screaming about @qoldenskies’s Canary Continuity so much, it’s probably no secret that it’s my top fic of the year!! It’s just amazing.

A Bird in Your Teeth by stillateenageabomination for my Feral Leo AU absolutely destroyed me. I cried for forever 🥰

Also Service Manual by @fluffydice for my Kendratello AU was great! I loved the way they wrote Donnie’s healing

Neon Void by @sugarpasteltmnt was finished this year and it had me by the throat from start to finish!

Firefight by @remedyturtles was the perfect, equal (okay maaaybe not—more like 70/30) parts angst and comfort!! Amazing disaster twins fic!

@dandylovesturtles Emotional Support Water Bottles series has been great. Dandy is one of the best Rise authors that just absolutely NAILS every single brother’s voice and personality in their writing. I’d list everything else they’ve done this year, just because the second Dandy puts something new out, I am THERE.

And I just started re-reading Lemonade Leak by @turtleinsoup literally last night and read 21 chapters in one sitting, and can’t wait to fully finish catching up.

There’s about a thousand more links I wanna think of, but my brain is like a smooth piece of sea glass, and I can’t remember much more. But this fandom is so talented, I always wanna just go on and on and on for these things!

[gigisaquarium]

captain's quarters, monkey d. luffy x reader 𐙚 likes, comments, and reposts are so appreciated !! requests are encouraged !! i’m looking for friends and regulars !! this is my first time writing in a few months, please consider this a warm up

𐙚 summary : Luffy's filter, or lack thereof, often times got him into trouble, even for simple things, like his obvious favoritism. (Spoiler alert: you're his favorite.) However, this time, it was quite beneficial.

𐙚 warnings: SMUT !! goofy first time, cutely awkward, no piv YET, masturbation, silly luffy rambles, possible bad/messy writing it’s been forever, kind of too long?? idk

def not proofread it’s like wayyy to late for that

Luffy wasn’t “sexy” by any means. He was very attractive and had a bright personality, but he was such an idiot. He was always goofing off or sneaking a snack when the crew wasn’t under attack, so you never thought you’d have any thought of having sex with your captain. You doubted he was even aware of sex. It wasn’t something that crossed your mind, at least until last week.

It was an unspoken rule of respect to not enter Luffy’s room. The captain’s quarters were typically private places to wind down and exist outside of being a pirate. However, being the thoughtful person you were, you decided to do Luffy’s laundry for him. In reality, you were hoping to catch a little glimpse into his mind. Curiosity had taken over, and you just wanted a tiny peek, just an idea of what his room looked like. Was it clean or messy? Was it decorated? Simple questions that had plagued your mind.

Luffy seemed to plague your mind quite a bit these days. A simple memory of him made you smile and you found yourself wondering how his day was going if you stayed in the girl’s dorms for a longer period of time than usual. There was no doubt that you were the captain’s favorite, and you wondered if that is what originally swayed you. After thinking on it over night, you decided it was just his big heart and his pretty smile that drew you in.

That’s how your curiosities came about. That’s why you were stood outside of Luffy’s door all those days ago, shocked to hear that he had beat you there. You were expecting the room to be temporarily abandoned, especially since Luffy never stayed in one place. He was in there, though, and it was obvious. While muffled, you could clearly hear his grunts and whines, and you nearly froze in place. You weren’t stupid; you knew what he was doing. You were simply shocked. You weren’t sure if you were more caught off guard or more surprised that Luffy even knew how to jack off. He always seemed so oblivious about everything.

Time passed, and the sounds he made creeped into your mind more and more. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. You left the laundry basket outside his door and had simply retreated. You weren’t purposefully avoiding him. You just felt so flustered every time you saw him, now. He had definitely noticed this and began to make an effort to figure out what was bothering you.

“Are you mad at me,” he would ask, following you around the Sunny as you kept yourself busy. You would simply smile and shake your head. “No, of course not.” He gave up on that after a while, instead trying to think back on every small detail from the past few days. He wasn’t much of a thinker, though. It got frustrating quickly.

He finally made the connection when he remembered finding the laundry basket outside of his room after he came all over his stomach. It was an aha moment for him, and he quickly rushed to find you, despite the clock reading 2:54 am. “Y/n,” he whispered, standing at the entrance of the girl’s dorm. He moved closer to you, gently tapping you on the shoulder in attempt to wake you.

When you finally open your eyes, eyes fluttering in confusion and eyebrows drawn together, he tugs on your arm. “I know why you’ve been avoiding me,” he whispers, pulling you out of bed. You felt your stomach churn, and, suddenly, you were very awake. You let him pull you up onto the deck, using your free hand to rub your eyes. “You do,” you question in a hushed expression of surprise. How did he figure it out?

“Yeah! You’re upset that I don’t let you in my room,” he answers, pulling you towards his room. What…? “I saw the laundry you left outside of my door, and I realized that you never go inside. So I’m taking you to my room, so you can see inside,” he goes on, looking back at you with a sleepy grin.

“Luffy, no, that’s not it. It’s okay,” you tell, but he was already pushing his door open, urging you to step inside. Taking the opportunity to look around, you purse your lips. It was very… Luffy. Clean, but not organized. There wasn’t anything on his floors, but his bed was unmade and miscellaneous trinkets were scattered across his desk. “Then what is it?” He questions, dropping down onto his bed, the springs rattling.

“I don’t think it’s something… we should talk about.” He tilts his head before flopping backwards, peeling off his socks. “You can talk to me about anything. I like to know what you’re thinking,” Luffy assured you, stretching out on the big mattress. You let out a little huff, playing with a little ceramic shrimp that was sitting on the edge of his bedside table. “It was something I wasn’t supposed to know, anyways. Hear, not know,” you explain, looking down at him.

You sensed his dusty cogs spinning, spiderwebs snapping as he analyzed your words. “It was during the day, right? You probably heard me jerking off,” he says simply, sitting up now. “Is that what’s bothering you? Are you jealous? I wasn’t thinking about other girls or anything. I was thinking about you.”

You had no idea how he could say that with such a straight face. It was difficult for you to even process his words. How did this idiot’s brain even work? “Okay, yes… that is what had been on my mind, but I really didn’t mean to avoid you over it. And, no, I wasn’t jealous, I was just… it was difficult for me to not think about you in that kind of way after hearing that,” you ramble on, nerves getting to you now.

“I thought that we liked each other, so, thought you’d be jealous,” he explains, scratching his head while slowly kicking his feet. It was too early in the morning for… whatever this was. “Do we? Do you like me?” You ask, trying to form a cohesive thought. Luffy was making it difficult. “I really like you. I thought you knew that,” he giggles, laying back again. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Did he not feel awkward at all? Maybe it was just you . You were putting too much thought into it. “Then I guess we do like each other,” you finally sigh. It felt better for it to be out in the open than kept tucked away, anyways. “Do you wanna know what I was thinking about?” Luffy asks softly, filling the silence. You lie down next to him, raising a brow. “When I was getting off,” he clarifies.

Would it be weird to say yes? “Sure,” you mumble, eyes locked on the grey-ish ceiling that was clearly worn down. “I was thinking about you doing it for me. ‘Cus I think I’d rather you do it, than me,” he tells. You got that feeling in your stomach again, a burning fire that demanded attention. “Do you want to?” He follows up, clearly not satisfied with your silence. “Right now,” you ask, completely surprised.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t wanna go so fast. Then you don’t have to,” he tells, propping his head up so he could look at you better. Your heart was way too quick and your thighs were reacting before your brain could. The subtle press of them didn’t fly over Luffy’s head. Sanji had told him way too much about women. “If you want to,” you nod, throat feeling dry. Luffy looks straight into your eyes. You never knew what he was thinking. “I want you to want to. Don’t do it just for me,” he says firmly.

“I want to,” you tell him. “I do.” He stares a little longer, finally scooting closer. Putting a hand on the side of your face, he pressed a small kiss to your nose. After a moment of hesitation, he moved on to your lips. It was clear that he was inexperienced; the kiss was all over the place, and lasted a little bit too long for what it was, but you didn’t mind. Your head was spinning, anyways. For whatever reason, Luffy begins to giggle again. “What?” You pull back, unable to keep yourself from joining in on his laughter.

“I’m just happy,” he tells you, kissing your cheek. “I like kissing you.” It isn’t long before you feel him beginning to gently rub himself against your leg. After a few more kisses, he reaches down, unbuttoning his shorts. You don’t know why you were surprised to see him drop his pants so casually. “I don’t know if I can wait any longer.” He always was impatient. It didn’t bother you, though. You were more caught up in the moment. Nervous, aroused, and caught up in anticipation.

“Look. You do it like this,” he instructs, taking your hand and rubbing it against his hardened cock. “I know. I just… I’m nervous,” you explain. You had been trying not to look. You wanted to look, you just couldn’t. “Then you don’t have to. We can stop,” he hums, pulling his hand away from yours. “I want to keep going.” You finally muster up the confidence to look down, gently moving your hand up and down his shaft, that was beginning to leak just because you were so pretty.

Luffy lets out a little breath, putting his hand back on yours. “Squeeze it.” He looks up, remembering his manners. “Please.” A word as simple as please fed the flames in your stomach, and you were quick to really go for it this time. You gently rub a small circle around his tip with your index finger, spreading the precum that was dripping down his balls now. Luffy grabs your wrist, letting out a breathy moan. You continue on, lightly running your fingers over the spot right under the head, his cock immediately twitching. “Feels good,” Luffy mumbles, putting a hand on your knee.

“You like this,” you ask, rubbing the tip again, and he nods, but moves your hand to his shaft. “Like it, but ‘s too much. Right here, rub here.” His face had grown pink, and he couldn’t seem to hold back a smile. “You’re doing really good. So good,” Luffy assures, pulling the sleeves to your sweater up to your elbows. He thought of the little things like that, even if he wasn’t one for thinking.

Dragging your hand up and down his throbbing dick, you realized how intimate the moment felt. There was no longer this odd pressure in your chest or a dark fog surround your brain. Your nerves subsided and you felt heat rising in your own body. You were snapped back into reality when you found the perfect amount of pressure and the right speed. Luffy began to grunt with each agonizing pump. “I’m ‘bout to cum. I can do it if you want. It’s messy,” he tells, looking up at the ceiling.

“‘S okay. I don’t mind a mess,” you mumble, twisting your hand at the tip and using your free hand to carefully squeeze his balls, seeing what worked and what didn’t. Finally, you could see his stomach tense, Luffy letting out a heavy groan as the built up tension finally released in an explosion. “Thank you, pretty, shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles. “Keep going a little,” he requests, putting his hand over yours so you could help him ride out his high.

After it’s all over, he cleans up, meeting you back at his door. He wraps you up in his arms, swaying side to side. “It feels better when it’s you. Tomorrow I’ll do something for you, ‘kay?” He whispers, stepping outside with you. “‘Kay,” you grin, pulling away from his hug.

What the fuck just happened?

.

this was lowkey butt

ITS OKAY THOUGH ILL DO WAYYYY BETTER WHEN IM NOT SO TIRED AND HAVE A GOOD IDEA

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 NOBODY KNOWS kim minji x reader

👛★ ͘ ⴰ ever since summer 2022 new jeans has been at the top of the world surpassing and creating records and getting biggger and better every month but then SM Entertainment drops a new girl group stardom out of knowhere on everyone’s heads “surpassing and creating records” just like a certain group, causing a rivalry in the media and between the groups behind closed doors.

in which behind the secret of rivalry between stardom and new jeans, there’s an even bigger secret between their leaders.

PARING — kim minji x idol!reader

last. masterlist. next

★ ͘ PAGE#2 attention — ❝drop the question, drop the drop the question want attention ❞

“tell me tell me, t-t-t-t-t-tell me,”

before the rivalry between new jeans and stardom was established by the media, there was a small moment that lasted about a week or two where the two groups really admired each other.

minji raised a brow, her gaze flickering to hyein, who was singing her heart out to the song blasting from the radio.

seemed like every station, every playlist, and every corner of the industry was saturated with something from the new sm group. they were everywhere, their voices unavoidable, their presence undeniable.

yet, despite the growing buzz and competition that was bound to follow, minji couldn’t deny the tiny flicker of admiration that sparked every time their music played, especially towards a certain member that caught her eye.

she nodded her head to the beat, her phone tucked discreetly in her hand as she scrolled through articles about the leader of the new hit girl group.

yn, huh? the name was everywhere lately. from what she’d read, yn was the third oldest in the group, just a year younger than minji herself. oh, and she was jang wonyoung’s cousin?

minji huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. guess charm really does run in the family.

to be honest, minji couldn’t quite pinpoint why this girl had captivated her so completely. maybe it was because they had something in common, they were both the anchors of their groups, the ones everyone leaned on.

or maybe it was something else entirely, something she didn’t want to name. was this... some sort of celebrity crush? the thought made her groan softly, burying her face in her hands.

she’d even gone on a deep dive last night, scouring the internet to see if yn had some kind of private instagram account.

and now, knowing there was a very real chance of bumping into stardom today, minji felt her stomach twist. the thought alone made her knees weak, her heart racing in a way that was entirely out of her control.

minji wiped the sweat from her forehead as she stepped off the festival stage, still caught in the adrenaline of their performance. so distracted, she didn’t even notice hyein coming to an abrupt stop in front of her until she stumbled into the younger girl.

“oh my, watch it—” she started to complain, but the words caught in her throat as her attention shifted. her group members stood ahead of her, bowing politely to five girls making their way onto the stage.

minji’s breath hitched when her gaze locked onto the one person she’d been simultaneously dreading and hoping to see.

yn.

her eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly bowed, a nervous laugh slipping out before she could stop herself. her heart raced as yn’s smile was as sweet as the photos no, sweeter and somehow even more captivating in person. her heart pounded harder as yn returned the bow, maintaining eye contact for just a moment longer before she turned and walked toward the stage, her members following close behind.

the roar of the crowd as stardom stepped into the spotlight jolted minji back to reality. she blinked, still feeling the lingering effect of yn’s smile, when hanni’s confused voice cut through her haze.

“what’s up with you?”

“nothing,” minji mumbled, though her flushed cheeks and the way she quickly looked away said otherwise.

hanni wasn’t buying it, glancing between her and the stage with suspicion, “okay…”

meanwhile, minji’s gaze drifted back to the stage despite herself. yn was front and center now, her presence magnetic, her smile dazzling under the spotlight. minji’s pulse quickened again, her thoughts a jumble of admiration and frustration.

how was it possible for someone to look that good after just walking onto a stage?

“it’s nothing,” minji repeated more to herself, finally managing to tear her eyes away. she turned to her group, her face flushed as she tried to act normal.

danielle appeared, gently placing a hand on minji’s shoulder. “we should head back to the green room,” she said, her tone calm “we should relax before it’s time to leave.”

relieved for the distraction, minji nodded quickly. “right, let’s go.”

as the festival wound down and the final performances wrapped up, the girls gathered their things and prepared to leave. minji, however, felt a sudden urgency tugging at her.

“i’ll be right back,” she mumbled, slipping away from her members. hanni called after her, but minji didn’t stop. her mind was elsewhere, her nerves still buzzing from the day’s events. she told herself it was just the adrenaline, but deep down, she knew better.

wandering the maze like halls backstage, she searched for the washroom, her thoughts a jumble. she turned a corner too quickly and collided with someone, nearly losing her balance.

“oh!” she exclaimed, stepping back in surprise, and then froze.

standing in front of her was the very person who’d been living rent free in her mind all day. yn.

yn smiled at her, the kind of smile that could light up an entire room or in this case, make minji’s heart skip about five beats. “sorry about that,” yn said softly, her voice even more melodic in person. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

“n-no, it’s fine,” minji stammered, her cheeks heating up instantly. she was suddenly hyper-aware of everything, her messy hair, her slightly sweaty face, her awkward posture. she felt like a complete mess in front of someone who looked effortlessly perfect.

yn tilted her head, her smile widening just a little. “by the way, your group’s performance earlier was amazing. you really know how to command the stage.”

“oh, uh, t-thank you!” minji said, her voice a pitch higher than usual. she cleared her throat, trying to act composed, but her awkwardness only made her feel more flustered. “y-you guys were great too. I mean, obviously. the crowd loved you.”

“thank you,” yn replied, her voice warm and genuine. there was a moment of silence, and minji felt like she might spontaneously combust under yn’s gaze. but then yn continued, her tone a bit more hesitant. “actually, I been wanting to talk to you.”

minji blinked, her heart racing. “me?”

yn nodded, looking almost shy for a moment. “yeah. stardom just debuted, so everything’s been kind of overwhelming. i’ve been trying to make some friends in the industry, and... well, I was wondering if it’d be okay to exchange numbers?”

minji’s brain short circuited. yn wanted her number? she opened her mouth to respond but no sound came out. she was like a fish out of water, gaping awkwardly.

yn let out a soft laugh, her smile turning playful. “is that a yes? or...?”

“y-yes!” minji blurted, nearly dropping her phone as she fumbled to unlock it. “yes, of course. let me just—uh—here.” she finally managed to hand her phone over, her fingers brushing against yn’s. the touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through her, and she quickly pulled her hand back, feeling like her entire face was on fire.

yn took the phone with a small, amused smile, typing in her number with ease. “there you go,” she said, handing it back. “now I have yours too.”

“great,” minji said, her voice cracking slightly. she cringed inwardly, clearing her throat again. “I mean, that’s great. really great.”

yn chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “you’re cute, minji,” she said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

minji froze, her eyes widening. “c-cute?”

“mm-hmm,” yn said with a wink before taking a step back. “i’ll text you later. don’t ignore me, okay?”

minji could only nod, her brain too scrambled to form an actual response. yn gave her one last dazzling smile before turning and walking away, leaving minji standing in the hallway, clutching her phone like it was some kind of lifeline.

as yn disappeared around the corner, minji exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. her heart was still pounding, and she felt like she might melt into a puddle on the floor.

“what just happened?” she whispered to herself, her lips curling into a small, involuntary smile.

and that was the beginning of yn and minji’s relationship, a quiet spark that turned into something neither of them could ignore.

it started with innocent texts that turned into late-night calls, which led to moments where they’d sneak away during events just to talk without prying eyes. before they knew it, they weren’t just friends they were something more.

minji sat on a park bench, bundled up in a hoodie and a cap pulled low, her heart racing as she spotted yn walking toward her. yn had insisted on meeting somewhere lowkey, and the park was perfect. as yn approached, she held up a bag of snacks with a grin.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a bit of everything,” yn said, sitting down beside her.

minji laughed softly, her shoulder brushing against yn’s. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“of course I did,” yn said, handing her a packet of gummies. “i’m trying to impress you, remember?”

minji’s cheeks flushed, and she tried to hide her smile by looking down at the snacks. but yn noticed, leaning closer with a teasing glint in her eyes. “is it working?”

minji’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “maybe.”

they were backstage another festival , tucked away in a quiet corner where no one could see them. yn had stolen minji away during a break, her excuse being “to show her something.”

“you’re going to love this,” yn said, pulling out her phone and showing minji a goofy video she’d saved.

minji laughed, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. “why is this so bad, but so funny?”

yn grinned, leaning in closer. “because you secretly have terrible taste.”

“excuse me?” minji gasped, playfully shoving yn’s shoulder. yn just laughed, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

it was pouring rain, and minji had just finished practice when yn showed up outside the building, holding an umbrella that barely shielded her from the downpour.

“what are you doing here?” minji asked, rushing to her.

“I missed you,” yn said simply, her hair damp from the rain. “I figured you’d need some company.”

minji stared at her, speechless, before breaking into a soft smile. “you’re crazy, you know that?”

“crazy… I was crazy once,” yn joked, earning an eye roll and a laugh from minji.

they were just about ready to be open about their relationship, to tell their members the truth when it happened.

the article dropped like a bombshell: “stardom and new jeans: the battle of the biggest girl groups.” it praised stardom’s rapid rise, noting their dominance in brand deals, chart success, and social media presence despite debuting only a few months prior. the piece compared the two groups relentlessly, fueling a brewing rivalry that neither group had asked for.

what started as subtle shifts turned into something more. hanni and yuri exchanged sharp glares whenever they passed each other, and side comments became a common occurrence during events.

the media picked up on the tension, and headlines screamed about a feud between the groups. only hyein seemed immune, much to minji’s amusement though she suspected hyein might secretly be stardom’s biggest fan.

now, minji found herself in the stardom dorm, the quiet hum of the heater filling the room. yn was curled up on her lap, her arms wrapped loosely around minji’s shoulders. the dorm was empty, giving them a rare moment of peace.

“we definitely need to keep this a secret,” yn said softly, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of minji’s hoodie.

minji sighed, resting her chin on yn’s shoulder. “I know. your members don’t like me—or any of us, really. and my members, except for hyein, definitely don’t like you or your other members.”

yn chuckled lightly, though there was a hint of sadness in her voice. “yeah. yuri would probably lose her mind if she knew you were here right now.”

“and hanni…” minji trailed off, shaking her head. “let’s just say it wouldn’t go over well.”

they sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. but then yn leaned back, her eyes meeting minji’s. “we’ll figure it out,” she said with a small smile.

minji nodded, her heart swelling at yn’s optimism. “yeah, we will.”

for now, their relationship would remain their little secret, tucked away from the world, and from the people closest to them.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 48

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,770ish

Summary: You and Laura rebuild your lives. Spans from 2029 to 2035.

Warning(s):  nightmares, injuries

Notes: I hope this chapter is okay! I know that it's not terribly long and skips a lot. Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You woke up with a jolt. The image of Logan laying there bloody against the tree still fresh in your mind all these months later.

You made it across the border with Laura. You found Eden, the official safe haven, and you hated every moment of it. The leaders there were happy to have an X-Men on their side, but you no longer felt like an X-Men. When you expressed your desire to leave, they weren’t too happy but agreed to help. They gave you enough money for a cheap car and first and lasts months rent for a small one bedroom apartment. They urged you not to take Laura, but there was no way the two of you were going to be separated.

You sighed, turning your head to find Laura staring back at you. You moved onto your side to face her.

“You had another nightmare,” she whispered.

“Did I burn you?” You asked. You had woken up a few times to Laura spraying you down with a fire extinguisher, making you thankful for keeping extras on hand.

“No. No flames this time.”

“But I woke you?”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not, sweetie. You need to be getting rest too.”

“Can’t… nightmares.”

You reached over and began to run your hand up and down her arm. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

~~~

You were able to get a teaching job after taking a few classes to renew your license, with help from the people at Eden. Laura was able to go to school with you. Laura was a good and smart kid, but she had her father’s temper and patience. That meant you spent a lot of time in the principal’s office with Laura the first few months of school. You were just grateful that Laura had yet to show her claws off to anyone yet.

You sighed as you drove home. Laura was in the seat beside you, staring out the window with her purple sunglasses covering her eyes.

“Laura, you know that I completely stand by you when it comes to standing up for others,” you began, “but you cannot beat each bully up because of it.”

“They deserved it,” she muttered, keeping her gaze out the window.

“That doesn’t matter, Laura. We need to be better than the bullies.”

“Dad would have been proud.”

You slammed on your breaks as your breath caught. “What?”

“I said that Dad would have been proud.”

You swallowed, mind reeling at the mention of Logan. The car behind you honked, pulling your from your thoughts and causing you to continue to drive forward.

“Your father…” you breathed out. “Your father might have been proud of you, that’s true, but he also would tell you never to do it again. That it’s not actually a victory to lower yourself to the bullies standards. He would not want that for you.”

Laura looked over at you and reached over, touching your arm. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m not mad.”

“No,” she shook her head, “sorry for making you sad.”

It was like a punch to the gut. This little girl was way too observant for her own good.

“I’m fine, Laura,” you told her, pressing out a smile. “I’m not sad.”

Laura looked at you for a moment before going back to staring out the window. You knew she didn’t believe you one bit.

~~~

Nights were the hardest. Though you shared a bed with Laura, you missed the way Logan would hold you close at night. You always felt safe and wanted. You would try to cry it all out in the shower, hoping that Laura couldn’t hear you, but she could. Silent tears would still slip down your cheeks as you tried to sleep. 

Laura would often notice, her senses like her father’s. She would reach over and take your hand, hoping that would be enough to calm you. Sometimes it was, sometimes it made it worse. You were the much older adult. You needed to be the strong one for this little girl who was still struggling with her own trauma. Yet, many days you couldn’t put your own problems aside. Laura didn’t push or press though. 

Both of you were the only constants in each other’s lives now. You didn’t know it, but through your own tears, you were helping Laura. She grew up in a place where emotion was not okay. By you showing your ranges of emotions, you were showing her that it was okay to show emotion.

One night, you woke up to a sharp pain in your arm. You looked over to see Lauras claws in your arm. She was crying out and thrashing around, all of her claws out for show. Careful not to move too much with her claws in you, turned over to face her and reached your other arm over.

“Laura, sweetie,” you called calmly. “Wake up. It’s just a nightmare. Wake up.”

Laura gasped as she shot up. Her eyes scanned the bedroom for any short of danger. She froze when she saw her claws in her arm.

“No,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no!”

“It’s okay, Laura! I’m fine. I’ll heal.”

“No!” She continued to shake her head.

You winced as she wanked her claws out and scurried away until she fell off the bed and hid herself in the corner. You didn’t even bother to look at your wound as you crawled over the bed and sat yourself down on the floor next to it. 

“It’s okay, Laura,” you repeated. “We’re okay.”

The two of you sat in silence, the only notable sound being her heaving breathing. Suddenly, you got an idea. You reached out your good arm and turned your hand so that your palm was up. A flame formed in your palm, lighting up the area a little and catching Laura’s eyes. 

“See? I’m okay,” you whispered, ignoring the fact that your palm was actually aching as you formed the palm. 

Laura’s eyes darted down to your injured, bloody arm, feeling little relief though it was healing. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, still staring at it.

“No, need,” you shook your head. “It was a nightmare… You know, Logan got nightmares often.”

“I know.”

“Do you know that be stabbed me a few times as well?”

“He did?”

“Yes. He hated himself for every injury he ever caused me, but I rarely ever let him run away from me. I knew that it would only make it worse. So I helped him.”

“How?”

“I would hold him. Let me know I was there still. Sometimes I would use my heat to relax him. His muscles were always so tense after a nightmare.” You watched as Laura rolled her shoulders, like she was testing if it was the same for her. “I can help you, too.” 

You extinguished the flame and held out both of your arms. Laura was hesitant at first but then slowly moved over. As soon as you could, you pulled her into your lap and held her against you. You kept your body heat at a comforting temperature as kept her close.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered. “I’ve got you.”

It didn’t take long for Laura to fall back asleep in the safety of your hold.

~~~

You stood next to the car as you waited for Laura to finish chatting with her friend. You listened in as a small smile formed on your lips. It had been over a year since the two of you basically reset your lives and this was the first time Laura seemed interested in having a friend.

“Can you come over to my house to hang out?” Her friend asked. “My mom can take us and then bring you home.”

“Uh, let me ask my mom,” Laura said. 

Laura turned around and hurried over to you. You were staring at her in shock. You had never heard her call you that before, not that you were mad.

“Hey, um, mom,” she said once she was in front of you. Her voice was nervous. “Can I go over to Alex’s house? Alex’s mom can bring me home.”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, still processing your new name. “Of course. Just keep your phone on you and let me know if you need me to come get you.”

“Okay! Thanks! Love you!” Then she rushed back to her friend.

“Love you, too.”

~~~.

As the years past, Laura and you grew closer. You were not just a mother-daughter duo, you were best friends. Both of you had opened up about your lives over the years, making each other the only ones who knew intimate details about the other. She was now starting her senior year of high school, trying to figure out her life, and, for some reason, yours.

“Just one date.”

“I told you, Laura, I’m not interested.”

“Come on. He’s cute.”

“I’m not going out on a date with my boss.” You shook your head as you continued to make dinner. “That’s just weird any so many ways. Besides, he definitely doesn’t see me like that.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “He literally looks at you like he could take you right then and there.”

“Laura! He does not!”

“Oh, he does, and everyone knows it but you. Come on, mom, it’s been six years, it’s time—“

“I’ve told you this before, Laura, I’m not going to date anyone and that’s okay. Your father was it for me.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I just don’t like the idea of me going to college and you being here all alone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know about that. You haven’t been alone like this before.” You finally turned to face her. “Laura, thank you so much for taking care of me all these years. But it’s okay that you could live your own life. I’ll be okay… We’ll be okay.”

~~~

The two of you were out shopping for new clothes for the school year when it happened. You and Laura were walking down the street. Laura’s backpack was thrown over her shoulder as she was always prepared for anything and kept one of her father’s comics on her at all times. Neither of you saw it coming. Before you knew it, someone tased you from behind and then Laura. 

The world around you disappeared and you suddenly were thrown into an unfamiliar place. You and Laura tumbled to the ground. You groaned as a pair of boots stepped into your vision. You looked up to see a bald woman standing over you.

“Welcome to the Void.”

next chapter >

[jennaflare]

So You Finished Disco Elysium and Don't Know What to Play Next

You may have seen my other games rec post (if not, there are a lot of recs there). But I have since played many more games that, if you love Disco as much as I do, you might also really enjoy! (Many of these are on sale for the Steam Winter Sale until 1/2/24, go check them out! Some are even as little as like 2 USD!)

A House of Many Doors

This one was mentioned very briefly in my last rec post, but I think A House of Many Doors deserves more words dedicated to it. This game is set in The House, a strange dimension of huge rooms that pulls things and people from other worlds into it, trapping them forever. You play as one of the house's denizens, and you are on a mission to escape.

If you enjoyed the concept of The Pale in Disco, I think a lot of aspects of The House will appeal to you as well.

Norco

Norco has been on my wishlist since I made the last post, but I finally got around to buying and playing it a few months ago. Norco is an RPG set in the oil town of Norco, Louisiana, and paints a beautiful and strange picture of the rural-industrial south. It contains heavy Christian themes and absolutely stunning pixel art. One of my favorite games I played this year.

Clickolding

Cickolding is a very short horror game in which you play as a person getting paid to click a clicker while the man above watching. It's weird and highly sexually charged, though no actual sexual content occurs. I can't say too much about this but it is an experience, for sure.

The Pale Beyond

In The Pale Beyond, you play as the first mate aboard The Temperance, which is bound for the Antarctic in search of a missing scientific vessel. Things, as you might expect, do not go according to plan. You must keep your crew alive, relatively healthy, and in good spirits.

This one's also a strong recommendation for fans of The Terror, for obvious reasons. (Side note: if animal death is a trigger for you, I'd recommend playing this with caution, or not at all.)

Inscryption

Inscryption is the game that changed my mind about deckbuilders (I used to really not like them), which opened the door to my current addiction (Balatro. If you haven't bought it, don't. Your friends may never see you again).

Inscryption is a horror deckbuilder roguelike that is by the same creator as The Hex and Pony Island, both of which I also recommend. It's an incredibly fun game, and I recommend not looking into the plot too much because it's way more fun going into it as blind as possible.

Slay the Princess

In Slay the Princess, you are the Hero. You must slay the princess. If you don't the world will end. That's all there is to it. Why would you do anything other than slay her, after all? You don't want the world to end, do you?

Slay the Princess is a time loop game where your choices affect the next loop -- I don't want to say too much on that because it's a fun thing to experience yourself.

80 Days

Inspired by the Jules Verne novel, you play as Passepartout, valet to Phileas Fogg. Your employer has entered a bet to race around the world in 80 days. In this text-based adventure, it is your job to balance his budget and health, and to plan your route.

There are so many ways to make this journey, and enough different events that I'm far from having seen it all despite how many times over I've played it. Highlights for me include: falling in love with a man while we nearly died in the arctic, getting jailed in Russia for nearly a week because I made some poor choices, and abandoning our mission to become a jewel thief.

Other Games You Might Wanna Check Out

Jalopy, Overboard!, Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines, Yes Your Grace, Buckshot Roulette, A Date With Death, Fields of Mistria, Obscura, Tavern Talk, Killer Frequency, Not For Broadcast, The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante, Bastion

[ambrosiagoldfish]

i’m going a teensy bit feral reading your adam x third spouse story so i guess im just asking for part five and for it to hopefully have focus on dad beat dad and how lucifer would react to seeing the reader again after so long and like what would happen n stuff 🤭🤭 ofc if this is dumb ignore it i like what you’re doing with the story already !! the part im most excited for is the finale tbh but there’s a lot of time in between what you have rn and then so i’m just yapping abt stuff that could be cool in between. thsi is so jumbled omg sorry i just wanna see more of your writing it’s so good

idk how to end this uhh i love you bye 🫡

Benefit of the doubt PT.5

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: GN! Reader, confronting the past, next to no Adam (I know, sad, but it’s for the plot), Reader focused chapter, this is set during ‘Dad Beat Dad’, swearing, the next 2 chapters will have a LOT more Adam DW ❤️❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Request Box: OPEN

Word count: 4322

A/n: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support on all the other chapters. It’s been 8-ish months since the last update and for that I want to apologize. I’ll save it for its own dedicated post to not full int his page too much. But if you’ve saw one of my post from the other day, I have posted this on A03 and I’m giving myself 8 total parts. 7 will be the finale and 8 will be an epilogue styled thing (not even sure if I’m wanting to do it so when we get there, you guys can tell me if you want it!! ) so yeah, enough rambling, you’ve all been waiting so long for the next part so here you go!! <3

Reblogs are VERY appreciated!

(My posts have been flopping so much, I would love you forever if you did 😭)

Old memories have a habit of slithering their way back into a person's mind, and even sometimes, people

The first few months at fhe hotel were a lot more enjoyable than you originally expected. Most days went relatively the same, Charlie would choose an activity to do and you would observe the progress they made.

At first, progress hadn't shown much promise but as everyone grew closer, things began to look up. Angel had gone clean with his drug abuse and was distancing himself from his line of work. Sir Pentious started to actually trust the people around him and has done no major constructional damage to any buildings as of late.

Everything was going so smoothly that, when you had woken up one morning to the sounds of screaming, running, and just general chaos. You thought everything was finaly going into the ground.

You quickly run down to the lobby, thoughts of what could be happening run through you. Did one of Pentious experiments fail and explode? Were we being attacked by one of the many gangs in town? Did Alastor decide the hotel was actually boring and started destroying it, starting with the occupants? Whatever it was, you hurry faster to the lobby.

But what was meeting you there was… unexpected to say the least. Party streamers, banners, cookies. It looked like some kind of welcome party heaven would do, albeit with less flare and taste in decor. A banner that read ‘Wellcum Daddy’ was being hung up by Razzle and Dazzle, everyone was either cleaning or baking something, and Vaggie seemed to be ordering them around.

You look at the clock, huh, it’s way too early for any kind of Charlie’s trust exercises. Not to mention, she would have told you about the curriculum and there was absolutely not a 10 AM home-EC class listed on your schedule.

You quickly run up to Charlie who seemed to be preoccupied with helping Vaggie put something up “Charlie, what’s going on?” You tap on her shoulder, She jumps a bit before just realizing it’s you,

”Oh- Y/N, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to get you!” She apologizes when Vaggie pops in,

“Don’t be, I told Nifty to go wake you up, but looks like she had better things to do” she points over at Niffty swifty stabbing bugs and removing cobwebs out of habit

“It’s fine, just… what’s everyone doing, what’s with all the party supplies and sweets?” You say, arms to the festive lobby around you.

“Oh well…” she took a deep breath “you know that The deadline is fast approaching and while we’ve made progress it’s not much” she paused, trying to even brace herself for what’s coming out of her mouth, “I have asked… my dad to come over and hopefully get us a meeting with heaven” she stops, completely caved in on herself.

“Wait, so… your dad is coming here?” you thought about the times she had asked you to get them a meeting with heaven but you had already explained to her that it would be next to impossible for someone like you. You had to practically beg just to monitor the hotel

Charlie Picked herself back up and looked at you with a shakey demeanor, “Yeah In about… 55 minutes”

You blink a few times before giving a small chuckle “Well, would you look at the date! I think it’s time I used my 1-per-month trip back home! If you’ll excuse me-“

“Wait! No-“ she trips over herself “We need you here, if dad can see, not only the progress we’ve made, but also that we already have an angel supporter, there’s no way he could say no!”

“Charlie, I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“PleasePleasePlease! I will pay you back, promise! But I- we could really use you there!” Her eyes looked at you, similar to a puppy. She hands clasped together In plea.

You looked away in thought. Seeing him again was the last thing you wanted to do at this moment, any moment for that matter. The last time…well to be honest, the whole exchange hadn’t meant anything to you in quite a while. He could say whatever he wanted about you… it was the words he had to say about Adam that kept your heart ablaze in anger at the Morningstar.

Trash? He should really look in the mirror before saying that about your Adam. But… this could be a good opportunity for the hotel -as much as it pained you to admit- You can only sigh, “fine.. for the hotel…” You let out a small chuckle raising your arm in defeat.

Charlie jumped up and down with glee, repeating a matra of ‘Thank You’s’ before continuing “I get it might be difficult since you’re an Angel.” She tries to give some comfort. But that caught your attention.

“Because I’m an Angel?” You honestly didn’t mean to say it out loud but it came out as a question.

She looks at you confused “yeah, you know, considering I don’t think angels have too kind of thoughts to my dad for being… the devil” she laughs nervously

Oh. Oh. So that’s what she means. So she doesn’t know about your past with him? Not too much a surprise, I doubt Lucifer would bring up any of his failures. But that also made you realize one other thing. Charlie doesn’t know about your marriage with Adam.

Look, you didn’t mean to keep it a secret. In fact you had already assumed they knew. I mean you were sitting literally right next to him and Vaggie already knew who you were. You just thought she would have told Charlie, but knowing this now… it may be best to keep it a secret.

You let out a quick “I understand.” and with that, you all went your separate ways, you did contribute to the decor the best you could, as well as helping Sir Pentious and Nifty with the baking until finally, it was time for Charlie’s dad to arrive.

You walked over to a more remote place in the hotel lobby, look… you may have to interact with him today but you will not be doing it that soon. Instead, you decided your best choice of action was to sit and watch quietly until Charlie decided it was time for you two to meet. And in the meantime, you can mentally brace yourself.

Charlie sighs deeply “Okay everybody, it’s showtime!”

With that she swings the door open revealing the one, the only (thank Father) king of hell himself, Lucifer. Immediately Lucifer pulls his, obviously nervous daughter into his arms. He greets her with excitement before moving on to Keekee, and eventually Razzle and Dazzle.

He eyes the room, clearly covering up any distain for the hotels “character” to protect Charlie’s feelings. At least until he got to the bar which even he couldn’t lie his way through.

Even from the distant view you were from, you could see Alastor and Lucifer weren't going to be the best of buds anytime soon. As soon as they were introduced to one another they immediately got into it. Huh, at least now you have something in common with Alastor at least! If that’s even a good thing.

Their quarrel lasted a few minutes, everyone either waiting for it to be over, completely ignoring it, or enjoying it as entertainment. It lasted what felt like an eternity and was only interrupted when a short and plump woman by the name of ‘Mimzy’ came into the scene.

The old time-y dressed woman was one of Alastor’s friends, you honestly didn’t think he had those but you digress. Eventually once the commotion dies down, you see Charlie give you a nervous smile and wave for you, ‘that’s my cue’ you thought. Anxiety still felt taught in your heart but still you pushed through.

You walk out of your hiding spot, walking up to be next to Charlie. Still trying to keep your presence hidden for as long as you could, savoring those last few moments of peace before a wave of interactions.

Charlie clears her throat and puts on a more professional demeanor despite her nervousness, getting the attention from her dad, “And last but certainly not least, i’d like you to meet our Angelic sponsor-“

“Y/N!?-“ the fallen Angel suddenly started coughing, clearly having choked on his own words. He clears his throat “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting… you to be here” he lets out a chuckle.

“You guys know each other!?” Charlie looked shocked, her voice pitching up in bewilderment.

“We’ve… met before,.” Your voice was low, But still you pushed through “Though, it’s hardly relevant to anything of importance now. Isn’t that right, Morningstar?”

Lucifer's face contorted into an uncomfortable shaky smile, fingertips digging into his Apple-shaped cane. Perhaps he felt some type of remorse for the way things happened back all those years ago, but even if that’s true, you had no plans to forgive him.

He clears his throat “Yes it’s- unimportant Sweetie.. “

You 3 stand in awkward silence for a moment, all you can do is glare daggers at the short ex-Angel in front of you. Eventually though, you couldn’t stand the scilence any longer, “Well Charlie, I have to get something done in my room and I’ll be back to help with the tour in a few minutes, if that’s ok?”

Charlie looked like she wanted to protest, for you to stay with her through the tour, but she knew you wouldn’t just leave and not come back. “Um, yeah that’s fine! Me and Alastor can get the tour started and you can meet us around the 4th floor?”

You gave a quick nod as agreement and make your way to your room. Sighing, you flop down on your bed, feeling the soft warmth as you sink into comfort. Pulling out your phone, you quickly typing a text to Adam but your thumb simply hovered over the send button, anxiety washing over you. Your message was simple,

‘I promise that everything’s ok, but he’s here’’

You were hesitating, should you even tell him that he's here? You didn’t want to worry him over something so insignificant. He has a show tonight, he wouldn’t be at his best if he was constantly thinking you would be in the same room as the devil.

Or even worse, he could just cancel the show completely and march down here and a cause a ruckus which at best would completely destroy the Hotel’s plans and at worse… No, you can’t think of that.

You look at the message again before just setting your phone on your nightstand. 10 minutes… that’s all you need before you go back out there…

…Lucifer was having… let’s just say a tinsy bit of a bad day. Not only has he been forced to interact with that insufferable yellow-toothed sinner but also, he has been reunited with someone he hadn’t seen in a millenia, you.

The anxiety of the day was only topped off with the added stress of being with his daughter. Don’t get him wrong, he LOVES his daughter and is always happy to see her, but the way she talks and acts with these sinners… Ugh, it reminds him too much of himself back in the day.

Her hotel too… He may have given her the place but he never gave it much thought beyond it being a pipe dream for her. He was just trying to do something for his daughter, especially with… Lilith being out of the picture. He just wanted to cheer her up, and unfortunately it seems ‘grandiose plans’ run in the family.

Even now as Charlie and that Red haired Buck show him around, Charlie explains excitedly about different things they have at the hotel. It reminds Lucifer about how she was when she was little, that glow of joy never seemed to fade away from her despite the conditions she lives in.

But even still, as much as he’s trying not to zone out and actually listen to his daughters rambles, his mind keeps trailing back to one, singular thought. You.

What were you doing here? He knows you were there to ‘support the hotel’ as Charlie puts it. But this is the absolute first he’s hearing about it. Why wouldn’t heaven tell him that another Angel was down here, let alone, you most of all. The last time he saw you was… not the best first meeting

Were you here in secret? You clearly weren't fallen, considering you still had your halo and you didn’t look like you’ve been damaged anywhere close to what you’d be if you had fallen. Not to mention… Adam, the exterminations were his idea so why would you even consider an alternative when you are his-

“Uh, Dad?” Charlie interrupted Lucifer’s thoughts, a look of worry on her face. ”You’ve got a little bit of… horn? Sticking out”

Lucifer looks up and sees that he’s subconsciously beginning to phase into his full demon form. He quickly takes his hand and pats the horns as if he was just dusting off his coat, causing the horns to seem to fade away like dust. Wow, today really seems to be getting to him.

“Ah sorry Sweetie, it’s nothing just… uh..” He thinks for a moment, he has to talk to you alone, just for a second. “*Ahem* I was just realizing I had to… use the bathroom, I seem to have had one too many drinks on the way here. Can you tell me where the… bathroom is?” He lets out a chuckle to hopefully cover his lie.

“Oh, it’s just down the hall and to the right, I can take you there-“

Lucifer quickly lets out a loud ”No!“ Before clearing his through again “I can get there on my own, just wait here and I’ll be back!”

Before Charlie can even answer, Lucifer rushes through the halls of the hotel, yelling a ‘I’ll be back soon’ to his Daughter before turning the corner. He lets out a deep breath as he lays out the plan in his head. Figure out why you’re here, and get back to Charlie as fast as inhumanly possible.

Picking his feet up again, he makes his way to the lobby of the hotel, he looks around for a moment before spotting the check in desk. ‘They usually keep visitor information there, right?’

He quickly scours the desk, looking for any forms or documents that have your room number, before finally setting his eyes on your room number. It didn’t take long to find you seeing as there were such few occupants in the hotel.

He memorized your room and repeated it to himself while walking to your door. Past the first, 2nd, then finally, halfway through the hallway on the 3rd floor he finds it. Before he can knock, a sudden wave of worry floods his senses. Seriously, Why would he hesitate now?!

He shuffled around nervously, starting to doubt this little mission of his. Should he really be doing this? Is he really worried about you being here or is the real reason he came here because he wanted to… apologize to you? It’s true that the guilt of what happened all those years ago was still there. But… Digging up old memories just because he’s selfish and wants to apologize to you? He takes a deep breath.

He had to make things better or… at least get some things off his chest. So, with a heavy fist and an even heavier heart, he gently knocks on the hard wooden door…

This had been the longest 10 minutes of your life, trying to decide wether to send Adam the message, or to even return to tour with Charlie at all. As much as it pains you to say, you still become anxiety ridden when he’s in the room or even the mere mention of him. That spark of defiance you had in the lobby earlier being nothing but a small bit of courage. But you remembered that you had promised Charlie you’d be there for her, and you certainly weren’t one to take back a promise.

Before you could decide what to do, you hear an ever so faint knock on your door. Curiosity peaked, You thought Charlie was supposed to be waiting for you on the 4th floor? Had you taken too long and the tour went south? You quickly made your way to the door and hoped you wouldn’t see a very angry Charlie on the other side.

As the wooden-door creaked open, your face slowly turned bitter at The short, impish man who stood on the other side. Lucifer Morningstar. To be honest, you much would have preferred the angry Charlie, TWO very angry Charlies over this.

The man shuffled awkwardly in place, gripping his cane. Neither of you could break the silence . He avoided any eye-contact with you and even you couldn’t hide The disgusted expression on your face when looking at him. Finally after what feels like 3x the eternity you’ve lived thus far, you spoke In shaky words, ”What do you want?”

Lucifer pushed out his words as well as he could, meek they were, but you understood what he said “Can we please…talk?”

Your fingers gripped at the door, nails embedding into the wood, leaving scratches. It took all you had not to slam the door right in his face, but even if you had, it wouldn’t have solved any pressing issues. If anything, it might make him against Charlie’s idea with the hotel, which you couldn’t afford. You take a deep breath before letting out a quick but unsavory,

“5 minutes”

The short demon shuffles his way into the room as you follow in behind him, locking the door to prevent someone like Nifty or Charlie from walking in. Lucifer stands timidly by your nightstand as you stand on the complete opposite side of the room, facing him. Lucifer runs his neck as he lets out a shaky sigh “I just want to know what you’re doing here…” he pauses, he looks like he has more to say but decided not to.

You can only laugh to yourself “I’m here because I believe I think Charlie’s idea has potential to be great. The exterminations, they have to end… that’s why I’m here”

Lucifer seem a bit… surprised? Surprised with your stance on the exterminations. you figured he needed more than that so you continue “I… I’ve never been one for the exterminations. I've been against them from the start. I just didn't know what else to do. Nothing else seemed…right.“

He stayed silent, processing what you told him. He really didn’t understand you, he had a completely warped view of you. “If that’s all you wanted to know I’d rather you take your leave-“

“No!” You step back at the sudden raise in voice but he quickly clears his throat “No, there’s another thing. I would… I’d like to apologize to you about how things went… when we first met.”

You stared at him, the silence once again feeling the air. You didn’t dare break it, you watched as the impish man looked around with anxiety, trying to find the right words. “It’s always been there, in the back of my mind. How we- I, treated you. It was unacceptable… Lilith kept telling me to let it go, that she was done thinking about it, but I just couldn’t.” He takes a deep breath “so, I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/n…”

Lucifer Morningstar. The man in front of you looked more akin to a puddle than a person at this point. Sweat dripped from his face, a scrunched mouth filled with a sour taste. He wasn’t looking at you, focusing his attention to the ground. Finally, after many long seconds later. You step forward, grabbing his attention.

“As much as I appreciate the apology, I don’t forgive you.” Lucifer began to speak or at least say he understood but no matter what his reaction was going to be, you interrupted him ‘“-I don’t forgive you, because I’m not the one who deserves it”

To that, Lucifer's head was struck with confusion, “what do you mean?” He tried to make sense of your words, shifting eyes looking around in unease before landing on a framed photo of a candlelit man, an old and forgotten, yet familiar smile on his face… ”You mean… Adam?” Despite his best efforts around you, saying the first man’s name still dripped his words with venom. That same sour taste filling his mouth at the mere mention of him. ”What does-” he stops himself, he knows why.

You breathe in slowly, “What you said to me, all of those years ago, hasn’t meant anything to me in a long time. I’ve gotten through it 10x over and finally understand that I am more than those words” you take another step towards him, closing the gap, “so… there's no use for your apology to me. But Adam… you’ve hurt him more than you couldn’t possibly imagine“

The room was filled with dense air, like any sudden move could kill the king of hell or even you at any second but still you continue. “Adam deserved so much better than what he was forced to have from you, so if anyone deserves your apology, it’s him.” He goes to speak but you shut him down again “but we all know that you are too prideful to do so, and Adam… he’s too stubborn to hear it”

You don’t yell, scream, all of your words coming soft from your lips “So… what you’re going to do, if you truly mean what you say. You will go back to your daughter, forget this conversation ever happened, then you can march back to your big castle with your Loving wife, and leave us be, for the rest of eternity.”

With that, you step away from him, words that have been bubbling inside you for centuries finally having been let out. It felt like several hundred pounds had been lifted off of you. You begin to walk to the door to let him out, wanting the conversation to be over, When you hear him speak a faint ”Ex-Wife actually”

You pause, your teeth already biting your tongue. Honestly, if you really thought about it, it was poetic. The Angel who ruined two marriages, leaving Adam nothing but a broken heart and baggage, ended up with a failed marriage himself.

But even still, you still felt a slight pain of pity for him. Through clenched teeth you let out ”I'm… sorry to hear that. It must be hard.”

This kind of thing, no matter the person, is always tough. You knew the aftermath of it through Adam, even now he struggles with so many issues from it. In that regard, you felt pity for the ruler of hell, but the rest of you felt… glad? Glad that he finally understands just a thorn of the pain he inflicted on Adam.

“The 5 minutes are up so… go now… please.” Your voice shakes near the end, your will power for everything you’ve done starting to break. Lucifer looked equally as defeated, you could tell he wanted to say more but he just nodded his head before walking out the door. slowly, silently, you close the door back before sliding down it as your legs give out.

You wanted to cry, scream, do anything but sit there, but you couldn’t. Your voice hurts from talking, your feet hurt from standing, everything just… hurts.

DING DING DING

A luminous yellow light follows the sound, you lifted your head and saw your phone on your nightstand. Adam… You used all of your strength to make it to your bed, practically having to crawl to avoid any more tiredness in your aching body. You finally land on the soft mattress to pick up your phone, seeing the plethora of messages from Adam.

DIXKMASTER69

Yo Bitch, everything good??

You’ve been typing for like 10 minutes

Answer me

Hellllloooooo??????

Oh, that’s why he was texting. You had completely forgotten your half written message you were debating on sending earlier. You start to delete it and rewrite it when suddenly,

INCOMING CALL FROM DIXKMASTER69

You sigh at the screen, your phone vibration sends chills through your aching arms, it acts as a lifeline for you not to fall asleep on the soft plush beneath you. You press the answer button.

‘Fuck Babe, finally! Are you ok?!” Adam’s voice sounded angry but you know he was just worried “you’ve been texting for like 15 minutes”

“Yeah, don’t worry Adam, I... must have fallen asleep while trying to message you”

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, you dont normally fall asleep in the middle of the day” Adam questions, his voice having obvious worry for you.

“Today’s just been very tiring. But I promise I’m fine, it’s just happened a lot today.” You hated lying to him, your other half, but you know this is something that he shouldn’t have to worry about.

You hear him groan, “how many times do I have to fuckin’ tell you not to overwork yourself for those sinners”

“I know, I’m sorry” you pause “I… I have to go now but I promise I’ll call you later, yeah?“

He was quiet on the other side before he lets out “Yeah, just don’t overdo yourself ok?” His voice was soft, no hint of sarcasm or anger, just him.

You let out a small breathy laugh “I promise. Have fun at your show tonight. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too”

CLICK

You sigh to yourself, you still have the tour to do. It’s fine, everything is fine.

Tomorrow will be a better day. it has to be.

-

TAGLIST: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn

@ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che

@edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee @pandaquick @white-00-7 @call-me-nyx @adamstruelove @jennieyeager @sillyycatt @solatiium @my-name-is-heartache @parisiterileymoon @titan-senpai @lovely-night-owl-86 @innergardentoadpony @animefan106sposts @starlightstarbrightmyfirststar @lovkayy @ilikedrinkingsoda @barrythestrawberry041 @deadpoolssweetchimi @asegirllovesreadingporn @ripashy @deleted-1-800 @sirenetheblogger @ur1nonlygabi @aweleyirene @n0tmentallystable

(I really hope I didn’t forget anyone if I did, just asked to be added in the comments!!)

Shoutout to these specific asked as well, love you all <3

[nayedoll]

Hold me down

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, don’t read if you’re uncomfortable

description: following a christmas party at his house, joost and reader meet again after months of no contact, despite their failed attempts to overcome a complicated relationship.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, angst/smut, rpf

a/n: sort of based on the song ‘hold me down’ by daniel caesar, i #love this song so much ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

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Your trembling hands rush to light the cigarette between your glossed lips, eager to feel the rush of the nicotine fill your lungs, to try and ease the gnawing anxiety in you. You inhale slowly, watching as the smoke drifts upward, becoming one with the snow that blankets the empty Amsterdam streets.

You hear laughter from inside the apartment, unmistakably your friends’ voices breaking the silence of the night; it’s a cheerful sound, but right now it only makes you feel like you want to leave, if you didn’t already.

You scold yourself for coming here, for thinking things would be different. Joost hadn’t reached out since your last argument, and you had moved on, or at least you thought you had. Realizing all these months of self-love, of pretending to heal, were nothing but a waste of time, a distraction before you once again found your way back to him; it makes you angry with yourself. Why is it so hard to get over someone you didn’t even date?

Things with Joost had been complicated since the beginning; neither of you ever quite knew what you wanted —or maybe you did and refused to see it— but you just couldn’t seem to let go, somehow always ending up in each other’s arms. Even after all the harsh words you’d exchanged, all the fights, all the jealous outbursts, all the blaming— it was hard to leave, for the both of you, because underneath everything, there was love; it had never been acknowledged, never been voiced, but you knew it was there, at least on your side.

But even with all the highs, you couldn’t ignore the lows. Sometime early in the year, after your last fight, you’d decided that you wouldn’t go back, that you needed time to yourself, seeing how toxic you were for each other. So you cut him off, avoiding him as much as possible, afraid that sooner or later, he’d pull you back to him, back to your old destructive ways.

And in the beginning, you were hopeful, that finally you’d manage to erase Joost from your life, forget about him and move on. But, of course, such strong feelings don’t go away that easily. And so, when your friends had told you about this gathering Joost was hosting, insisting that you should come along for once, you really couldn’t say no.

So here you were, having drunk too much for your own comfort, hiding away in the balcony, feeling a mixture of emotions.

You take another long drag of your cigarette, focusing your drunken gaze to the snowflakes falling down the sky. Your fingers, numb from the cold, press on your phone screen that lights up immediately. The time reads 2:03 A.M, and you almost gasp, realizing how badly you’ve lost track of time.

You throw your cigarette to the floor, pressing your shoe on it, before rushing inside.

Just as you’re at the door, someone else opens it first— Joost, of course. You slightly take a step back, half-lidded eyes shifting to look up at him.

“Oh,” Joost says, obviously not expecting to see you here, “Hey,”

“Hi,” You say back, your voice small.

“I thought you’d already left,”

“No- no, I was just smoking,” You explain as Joost takes a step closer, shutting the door behind him.

“Since when do you smoke so often?” He smiles, crossing his arms.

You let out a dry chuckle, “Since today, I guess,” Thinking about how many smoke breaks you’d taken, just to avoid being in the same room with Joost.

You stare at him wordlessly, not really knowing what to say. The way he eyes you, makes you become increasingly aware of yourself and the amount of alcohol in your system, your head spinning uncontrollably.

“Uh- Anyways, I should probably go.” You try to walk past him, but he stops you, getting in the way of the door.

“Wait,” He says softly, “How are you getting home?”

You glance up at him, confused. “I have a car,”

“You’re kidding right? Y/n, you reek of vodka,” Joost says firmly, taking a stern expression.

“I’ll be fine,” You sigh, hardly convincing yourself.

“No you won’t,”

“Yes, I will,” Once again, you attempt to leave but Joost puts his hand on your shoulder, making you look back at him.

“Y/n c’mon, don’t be like that,” He sounds more concerned than angry, like he truly cares for you and it catches you off guard. “I’m not letting you drive in the snow, while you’re drunk,”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” You ask in frustration.

He stays quiet for a moment, and it looks like he’s thinking about something. “Stay the night,”

You shake your head, hearing exactly what you feared he’d say. “Joost, I don’t think that’s a good id-,

“Please,” Joost cuts you off, his brows softening, “It just wouldn’t be right for me to leave you like this,”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, seeing him be so caring, for what feels like the first time in forever. You look behind you, towards the snow-covered streets, realizing that driving in this state is a no-go.

“Fine,” You reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

You follow him inside to the living room; your friends are long gone by this hour, only having left behind a pile of empty beer cans.

“I can just sleep here,” You tell Joost, not wanting to burden him any further.

“No, it’s fine. You can sleep in my room,” Joost says, already making his way inside.

You stay still thinking about it for a second; not like you haven’t been in there before, you tell yourself.

The floor creaks as you walk inside the room, and you immediately get hit with all the memories in here— all the late nights, the kissing, the laughing, as well as the fighting, the yelling, the crying. It’s bittersweet, looking back on it now.

You sit down on the bed, lazily made as always, as Joost hands you a blanket.

“Thanks,” You smile at him, “And sorry for burdening you,”

Joost’s brows knit together, as if he can’t understand what you’re saying. “Don’t say that. You’re never a burden,” He sits down on the bed beside you, lightly placing his hand on your thigh; it’s more of a reassuring gesture than it is sexual, but you still feel something jolt in you.

You purse your lips, a weird feeling coming through you; you wish he’d said that more during your relationship—if you can even call it that— when you needed to hear it, when you felt insecure, unable to fully trust him.

You look away, suddenly not sure what to do with the space between you. “I didn’t ask you earlier,” You start speaking, not really sure if you should, just longing for him to stay a little longer. “How have you been?”

“Good, I guess,” His voice is charged with uncertainty, like there’s more he wishes he could say— because really, Joost loves you, maybe even more than you love him. And yet, he’s never told you, he’s never dared to acknowledge it.

And maybe that was the problem. He didn’t mean to hurt you; he just didn’t know how to be better. He wishes he could be the kind of guy to offer you the things you deserve—stability, trust, a healthy fucking relationship—but then doubts creep in; his past, his fears, the pieces of himself he’s never quite put together, always seem to get in the way.

“And you?” He asks.

“Good,” You look away, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt. “Just… different,”

Joost’s lips form into a tight line, as he nods understandingly. “Yeah,”

“By the way,” He adds, causing you to glance at him again. “I’m sorry for how we ended things and all… I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,”

You almost wince at the remembrance of that night, your last fight. “It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve said worse,”

You both laugh, trying to make light of the situation; it helps to soothe the tension, as you stare him, his smile with the dimples you love so much. The silence lingers, heavy with unspoken feelings.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, you’re leaning in. Your lips meet his in a soft touch, kissing him slowly at first, as if to test the waters.

You pull away briefly, looking at him wordlessly, searching for a reaction.

Instead of speaking, Joost pulls you in again, this time kissing you harder, as his hand gently holds your cheek. It’s desperate and tender all at once, a mixture of regret, longing, and something deeper, something that never quite left, even in the worst moments.

Your body moves forward, overtaken by desire, as Joost’s hands on your waist guide you to sit on him. Right as you do that, you feel the rough denim of his jeans brush against your clit, the small wave of pleasure enough for you to moan into his mouth.

“Do that again,” Joost says softly in your ear, his kisses spreading to your jaw and neck; you do as you’re told, your body grinding against his thigh in small circles as Joost attempts to undo your bra, his big hands reaching over to your back, under your top.

“Let me do it,” You laugh, noticing the way he struggles, “So I guess you haven’t seen anyone else if you’re struggling this much,” You tease him, as you take off your bra and shirt altogether.

Joost grins, his eyes momentarily sweeping across your half-naked body. He firmly holds your waist, “No one’s as good as you,”

You smile at the praise, before Joost pulls you closer, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. You start to move against his leg again, this time only more upwards, until you’re full on sitting on top of him. You breathe sharply, trying to get whatever bit of pleasure you can from his clothed cock.

“Want me to take my pants off?” He asks, and you nod, desperate to feel more of him.

He gets up— visibly stimulated, considering how deep his breaths are— hands rushing to his belt. You bite your lip, impatient eyes shifting between his face and the metal clasp of his belt.

Finally, Joost unclasps the belt, his pants falling to the floor with a metal sound. He looks back at you, his gaze soft as he steps forward.

Again, he lowers his head, his lips catching yours in a hungry kiss; with his knee on the bed, stabilizing himself, he slowly pushes you backwards onto the cold covers, one of his hands wrapping itself around your tits in the meantime. You sigh in pleasure, allowing Joost to lean more forward as you instinctively open your legs. His lips move to your jaw, before he sparsely places open-mouthed kisses across your upper body.

You catch a glimpse of him as he presses a soft kiss on your stomach, his hands sliding down to your hips, over the satin fabric of your skirt.

“Please,” Is pretty much the only word you can muster, your voice laced with need.

Joost briefly looks up at you, pouting playfully— “Aw my baby’s desperate,”

“Shut up,” You lightly push your leg to hit him, quietly giggling to yourself.

Joost feigns pain, smiling widely “It’s okay. How can I ever say no to you anyways?” Reaching up to kiss you sloppily in the cheek.

As his lips once again wander off to your neck, you allow yourself to relax, stretching your neck to give him the access he needs.

You feel his hand go lower, his fingers toying with the waistband of your lace panties, before he lowers them down to your calves; if you weren’t so out of it, you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’d grown wet, given all Joost has managed to do so far is just kiss you— But as his fingers start to rub your sensitive clit, that’s the last thing on your mind; you moan softly at each gentle use of his fingers, small waves of pleasure washing over you.

His teeth bite gently at your pulse point, as he picks up the pace of his fingers on your clit. Your breaths become shallow, pure bliss spreading throughout your body, signaling that your climax is near.

But Joost abruptly stops, now rubbing your clit in excruciatingly slow circles— once again, he’s playing with you, teasing you like he always fucking does in bed. He smirks against your neck, hearing you sigh in frustration.

“All good?” He asks, still maintaining the same slow speed.

“Are you serious?” You breathe out, attempting to, at the very least, sound a bit mad but you can’t take him seriously with the stupid grin he’s got on his face.

“What?” He knits his brows, feigning confusion.

You scoff, “Seriously Joost, you’re so mea-” Your words are cut off by a sharp moan as Joost picks up speed again, even going as far as to slide one finger in. “Mean.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about lief,” Again, he slows down.

“Joost!” You say in frustration, though you still giggle at his unserious tactics.

Joost’s free hand cups your face, caressing it with his thumb. “Alright, alright— het spijt me,”

This time he doesn’t tease you, instead now fully focusing on making you feel good; he pops two digits inside of you, the wet sound of your pussy and small moans being the only sounds in the quiet room. Your climax is unmistakably close, having you full-on whimpering now. As your legs start to tremble, you’re overcome with pleasure, Joost’s fingers insisting until the very last second before he stops.

“That’s it,” Joost affirms, getting your hair out of the way for you as you try to catch your breath.

He sits beside you, looking down at your face before he squishes it.

You chuckle, “What was that for,”

“You look pretty like that. Did you change your hair?” He asks softly, and you find his genuine curiosity cute.

“No, I don’t think so,”

He nods, “You good to keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” You’re quick to reply, eager to give back to him, make him feel as good as he did you.

You reach out your hand to touch his face, as Joost leans down to kiss you. You hand slides down his chest, until you palm his cock him over his boxers, getting an idea of just how hard he is.

“Can you-” You say, cutting the kiss, “Can you sit on the bed,”

Joost nods, leaning backwards, against the headboard; you crawl over to his side before positioning yourself on top of him, his hands immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“There we go,” He smiles up at you as you trace your fingers along his face, just admiring how pretty he looks from this angle. “You drive me fucking crazy,”

“Do you say this to every girl?” You joke, narrowing your eyes— or at least, you think you’re joking, using humor as a shield to hide your buried insecurities. Constantly doubting the possibility that he could have actual feelings towards you, that you’re not just another girl to him,

“What?” He looks at you in genuine confusion, not following the joke. He’s always hinted the insecurity in your words, and really, it frustrates him. Countless times has Joost tried to convince you otherwise, to make you trust him but in the end, it always ends in a fight. “Y/n, there’s not another girl,”

Yeah right. “Yeah I know. Anyways”

You raise yourself up slightly, moving forward until you’re directly over his cock; you take the base in your hands, aligning it with your entrance— and just like that, Joost drops the topic, like he’s done a million times before, not wanting to kill the mood.

You glance at him, making sure he’s ready, before sliding onto his cock; you gasp, the pads of Joost’s fingers pressing harder into your skin, the feeling of shared pleasure overtaking the hurt and guilt in both of you.

You move slowly at first, trying to feel every inch of him, get used to his size after so long. Joost pulls you closer by your waist, placing pecks all over your collarbones, where the necklace he once got you, jingles the more you pick up the pace.

“Fu-ck,” You whisper, “It feels sso good,”

His hand glides over your hair, comforting you. “I know,” He says quietly, breathing hot against your neck.

You let soft moans fall from your lips, grabbing his shoulder for support, your nails biting into his skin. He sucks in a breath, groping your tits as you feel his wet kisses litter your neck. You try to bounce faster on him, desperate to relieve the pressure between your hips, while still holding onto him, not wanting the moment to end. You gently pull him away from where he is, buried in your neck, just craving to see his face. His blue eyes gaze back at you, soft and brimming with vulnerability, something you’ve never seen before in him, not at a moment like this, at least.

You don’t speak, overwhelmed by all the emotions you’re experiencing. You wish you could scream at him for how he treated you, blaming him for the situation you’re in, even though you’re just as bad; but then again, looking at him now, staring into his eyes, you can’t shake the inescapable feeling that you’ll always love him, that one way or another, he’ll always hold a special place in your heart.

Instead, you lean forward, wrapping him in some sort of a hug, maybe because you’re growing tired, maybe because hugging him is all you need right now, hot tears brimming in the corners of your eyes.

Joost holds you tight, taking it upon himself to continue as he senses how increasingly tired you’re getting. His first thrust into you, coaxes you to outright gasp, placing both hands on the headboard now. You can hear Joost mutter a few incoherent words under his breath, pushing his cock into you at a speed that makes your brain go numb.

Your whimpers are like music to his ears, urging him to keep going as he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. It’s moments like this when he feels like you’re meant to be with each other, like this could really work, like he can finally tell you he loves you. But later in the night, the guilt always settles back in, reminding him of who he is, of who he can never be for you.

Joost groans, holding you so firmly that his hands are sure to leave marks on your skin.

“Are you close, baby,” He says through gritted teeth, briefly glancing at you, nestled into his neck.

“Yeah,” You say sharply, at the edge of crying with the amount of pleasure you’re feeling.

Joost nods, thrusting into you sloppily yet relentlessly. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the pleasure consume you as you feel his cock repeatedly on your sweet spot, the sensation mixed with everything else you’ve been feeling, causing tears to flow down your cheeks.

Almost simultaneously, Joost comes undone inside of you, his muttered curses and loud grunts sounding muffled against your ears.

He gives you one last kiss, just under your ear, as his movements come to a halt, his grasp on you loosening.

Exhausted, you barely even move with him still inside of you, as Joost fixes the hair that sticks to your skin. You close your eyes, breathing heavily, trying to cherish as little time as you have left before another argument begins—because the truth is, you both know what’s coming; the unresolved anger, the denial, the hurt, the disappointment; it won’t stay buried for long.

“Can I ask you something,” You ask, head rested on his chest, facing away from him.

You hear him hum, taking it as an answer to keep going,

“Did you… did you miss me at all?” Is all you can ask him, in need of some closure, to at least try and see if he feels any other emotion towards you except for lust.

Joost feels his chest hurt, hearing the pure vulnerability and doubt in your voice; “Of course I did,”

I love you, that’s what he wants to say; but he just can’t get the words out.

Your lips curve into a faint smile. You allow yourself to trust him for just a moment, believe that his words are true for once and feel the comfort that comes with that thought. His fingers gently run through your hair, and you let the silence between you linger.

For now, you can almost convince yourself that nothing is wrong, that everything is as it should be.

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a/n: if this ain’t me 😂😂😂

anyways THANK YOU if you read this far!!!!!! this is honestly one of my fav things i’ve written and i hope u enjoyed it as much as i did <3 happy new years xx

[bratbarzal]

Let It Happen (LH43) 2/3

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

>PART ONE<

Turn me into something tragic, just for you I let it happen.

General Warnings: after the first part you're probably thinking how could there possibly be more snark? you're about to find out. same with idiotic shenanigans, they're not quite finished with those!! fluff, cursing, sexual references, and fade to black type smut!!

A/N: DON'T HATE ME FOR MAKING IT 3 PARTS I'M JUST AN ADHD GIRLY WHO CAN'T READ 30K IN ONE GO BUT APPARENTLY CAN WRITE IT??? part three will be tomorrow I pinky promise!! I was nervous about splitting this whole thing up bc I really did write a whole romcom lmao!! I know long fics aren't to everyone's taste but I know no way of life other than the art of yapping!! Sorry that this took a little longer than expected there were a couple of scenes I couldn't get right but I hope you guys like this half as much as you did the first part!! and again I'd love to hear any thoughts!! reading your messages and your reblogs and your tags made my month and ily a lot!! like I said, I promise part 3 will be tomorrow, I didn't want to force so much at you in comparison to the first part!!

“I’m bored.”

Luke hadn’t thought he would regret staying at home when he had told Jack he wasn’t feeling well enough to drive out to Detroit for the Zach Bryan concert - if anything, it was an effort to push him and Ellie a little closer. She took Luke’s place, roomed with Jack in their hotel and everything, and they seemed to be having the time of their lives in all the videos dispersed into the group chat. But that was all before he came downstairs, eyes on the pictures of the all-you-can-eat breakfast the group were partaking in before coming back, and opening the kitchen cupboards to see them bare, with a few protein bars and boxes of granola tossed in like they’d been ransacked for the apocalypse. 

He’d had fun last night, though.

Even after the movie had ended, when the two of you had stayed up on the couch, talking about life - about hockey, about school, about his brothers, about your mom - if he’s honest, it had been the closest he had felt to another person that wasn’t one of his brothers in a really long time.

He really felt like you were connecting.

So much so that he’d retired to his bed for the first time all summer with a big, dopey grin on his face. Had laid awake scrolling through astrological compatibility after the two of you had drifted onto that topic after the movie finished, talking for maybe two hours before you had yawned so big he thought you might swallow him whole.

He had thought he knew you, before.

Had thought that those brief observations made from back in college, about your coffee preferences, your perfume collection, your taste in music, had painted a somewhat blurry picture of who you were - of all the things that blended together to formulate you - but he had been so wrong. 

And he had laid in bed last night thinking much deeper about the girl who was laying only a couple rooms down the hall - a few walls away. 

The girl who had come downstairs, bare feet padding softly into the kitchen, and had poured out two glasses of juice and handed one over to him without even asking. 

“Hi Bored, I’m Luke,” he smiles as he accepts the drink from your hand, the expression deepening as you roll your eyes back at him, this time with a glimmer of fondness slipping through the surface of your facade. 

You reach past him into the cupboard for the box of granola, and he grabs one of the protein bars before closing it, your bodies moving around each other in tandem like a well choreographed routine - easy and effortless in a way that calms whatever nerves he might have had around this new development in your relationship being one-sided.

You had never seemed uncomfortable in the house, or around the rest of the guys, but you had never been like this. 

“I was thinking,” you drag out, voice sweet and alluring, like you even have to put it on to convince Luke of anything, “we could go out on the boat,” you glance back at him as you pour out your cereal, lashes fluttering to complete the act, “You have your license right?”

“Yeah,” he replies, settling himself down to lean at the kitchen island as you cross to the other side, taking one of the stools, “But I’m not really supposed to take it out on my own.”

You hum as if you’re thinking, crunching your food before asking, “Is that brotherly advice or is that the law?”

“Advice, I guess,” he shrugs, pushing forward ever so slightly onto his forearms, where he can feel the tense of his muscles, and can see the diversion of your attention. 

“And you always do what your brothers tell you?”

When you tilt your head, the sun shining through the kitchen window reflects on your irises, making them sparkle, and he can see all the different hues in there, as if you’re using the elements to try hypnotise him into compliance.

You’re so pretty, you don’t even need the special effects.

“I’m a good boy,” he smiles teasingly, with a tilt of his own head, driven by infatuation and admiration, keeping your gaze and trying not to shudder visibly when your eyes drop to his lips. 

“You wouldn’t be on your own, though,” you pout, “I’d be there. I was a lifeguard for the past three summers, you know.” Of course he knows. “I promise I’ll save you if you get thrown overboard.”

You don’t have to say the following sentiment that the two of you share - that if he were to be thrown overboard, it would undoubtedly be by your own hand. 

“Yeah, you’d give me mouth to mouth?”

You scoff, leaning down onto your forearms and mirroring his position, careful not to knock your bowl. “Unfortunately for you, Hughes, they don’t advise the use of that method, anymore.”

“And you always do what people tell you?”

It’s one of his favourite things to do with you, he’s noticed - turn the tables, use your own wit against you. It gets him a reaction, every time. A rush of something real that washes over you, has you fixing your shoulders and biting back a smile. 

Although you don’t bite this one back. Luke doesn’t think that you could, even if you tried. Your eyes even crinkle a little in the corners, and Luke doesn’t see the danger in it - too lost in the way they reflect the glorious sunshine back at him in dazzling sparkles - until one drops in a wink as you retort, “I’m a good girl.”

Touché.

He thinks his heart might have skipped a beat. He can all of a sudden feel every last crumb of the previous bite he took from his protein bar lodged in his throat, and he needs a drink, so he pushes himself up from the counter to try at least gain a height advantage over you, and forces down some gulps of his juice.

The look you’re giving him isn’t doing him any favours - the height difference working against him as your eyes look up to meet his, round and pleading despite the cunning genius he knows is buried within them. 

“Fine,” he huffs, rolling his eyes as your smile grows wider, “But we need to be back before my brothers so I don’t get a lecture.”

“Yes!” You squeal, pushing up from the stool, “I knew you weren’t as boring as you seem!”

He frowns, despite knowing you’re just teasing him for this exact reaction, and watches as you clean up your bowl, discarding of the mushy granola and rinsing it out. 

“I just need ten minutes to get ready and then we can go!”

“You have five.” He grumbles, watching as you rush out the room and listening for the stomp of your feet up the stairs. 

He’s probably going to regret this. 

—

The bikini had been your first strike - baby blue, the type that ties with strings around your neck and back - when you had come down the stairs, the slap of your slides echoing against the wood and diverting his attention from his phone to your emerging figure. Your t-shirt was clutched in your hand, your tote bag in the other, and he had just stood there, mouth agape, until you rolled your eyes and stormed straight past him, calling, “Thought we were on a time crunch, come on,” behind you.

Your second strike had been the way you had waited until you were on the boat to apply your sunscreen, sat next to Luke, who was trying to keep a steady hand on the wheel as he drove his way down to a clear spot further out on the lake. Luke who was biting his tongue from offering to help you, and could smell the sweet melon scent of the lotion as it sank into your skin. 

And the third had been the way you had been smiling down at your phone, distracting him with the pretty curve of your lips as he steered over the water. 

Three such minor infractions already had him regretting the decision to bring you out here alone.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” He asks, trying not to sound as jealous as he feels at the thought of it being another guy.

“It’s Cole,” you tell him, eyes still on your phone.

“You and Cole text?” The boat jolts slightly as his hands tremble, and he diverts his attention to you.

“No, he’s got Ellie’s phone.” You type something back before turning the device to show him a selfie Cole had taken in the hotel lobby, Jack asleep on one of the benches in the background and Ellie posing in front of his sleeping figure.

“Why’s Cole texting from Ellie’s phone?” Luke asks, eyes back on the water as he steers the boat, long fingers curled around the wheel and muscles flexing. 

“They’ve been hanging out,” you tell him, “They were together when we got back from the club the other night, he was in our room.”

“And you’re only just telling me this now, because?”

“Oh, my bad, control freak, didn’t realise you needed the whereabouts of everybody in the house,”

“Jack’s been off all week,” Luke mutters, remembering his brother’s reaction when he had told him he was staying at home instead of going to the concert. He had called him out on staying home just to be around you, saying he’d regret missing out on such a huge experience, like there won’t be a hundred other concerts in his lifetime, and that you wouldn’t even appreciate him doing it. “Making all these passive aggressive comments,”

“No way! Jack Hughes? Passive aggressive?” You gasp, shuffling in your seat to give him more of your attention, “What next, is he gonna start acting like the world revolves around him too?”

“Don’t get cute,” Luke rolls his eyes. It’s starting to make sense, him chewing his ear off like that - even though the two of you had literally caught him out on a date, if he feels like Ellie is moving on with his best friend, he’s bound to feel some sort of way about it. “If they were together when he came home from that date, maybe he saw them,”

“They were hardly getting it on with the door wide open, Luke, they were playing cards.” You scoff, “Plus, he has no right to be upset, he was literally on a date he told nobody about.”

“He gets in his head about stuff like this,” Luke reasons as he slows the boat, bringing it to a stop in the middle of the water so he can focus, “Talks himself in circles until it makes him so dizzy he does something stupid.”

“You think that’s what he’s doing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t like assuming the worst of my brother, though.”

“Alright, let’s say Jack is only being a dick because he thinks Ellie and Cole are hitting it off,” you stand up now that the boat is steady, kicking your slides off and ambling over to the benches at the back, out from under the cover of the roof. “What are we supposed to do about it, we can hardly keep them apart, keeping track of Jack and Ellie is hard enough without throwing Caufield into the mix. He's sneaky.”

“We’d only technically have to follow Ellie, still,” Luke says as he follows you to the back of the boat, thankful your back is to him when you start to push your skirt down your legs, and you can’t see the way his eyes go three times their usual size, he’s almost anticipating a swat to his chest for when you turn and notice. “They can still hang out, just not one-on-one, one of us could keep an eye on them, take it in turns.”

“That sounds an awful lot like hard work, Hughes,” you huff, taking a seat on the leather bench and stretching your legs out before lounging back, “Can’t your brother just grow a backbone and ask her out? It would save us both a lot of hassle.”

“I’m working on it,” he throws himself onto the bench opposite yours, thinking of all the times he’s tried to cut the conversation with his brother short by just telling him to grow a pair. “I guess you’re right, we can’t stop them being friends, it would be hypocritical.”

“Hypocritical?”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re friends.”

“You think we’re friends?”

“You don’t?”

“We watch one movie together and now all of a sudden you think we’re besties?”

“I think we’re friends ‘cause you like my company, you wouldn’t have asked me to bring you out here if you didn’t like being around me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re deluded.” You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from the top of your head to the bridge of your nose and relaxing back. “I like tanning and being on the water. You’re a glorified chauffeur at this point. Not a good one, either.”

“I got us out here no problems, didn’t I?”

“I had to hold on the whole way, you were throwing me around like a loose can in the trunk of your car.”

“Yeah, well the water was choppy,”

“A good workman never blames his tools, Hughes.” You smile over at him, and the innuendo makes his cheeks go hot. Definitely regretting bringing you out on the water with no escape about now.

“Did you really ask me to bring you out here just to lay out in the sun?” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, watching as you angle your neck to face him. 

“Is that a problem?”

“It is if you’re gonna be a grouch about me being here.”

“I thought you’d be all quiet and brooding like you usually are.”

“Me?” He laughs, “Quiet and brooding?” He doesn’t think anyone has ever used the word quiet to describe him in his life. He knows you can’t be serious - all you’ve done for weeks is blast him for getting on your nerves.

“I’ve literally seen you talk once before this summer.”

What the hell do you mean by that? You barely knew who he was that day he approached you in the club. 

“That’s ‘cause you’d have to notice me to see me talk.”

“You’ve never talked to me.”

He did talk to you. Several times, in fact. That day outside your dorm with Ellie’s gift basket, a couple times in class - but they’re all insignificant, minor exchanges of words he would quite like to forget, if he’s honest. Mumbling and stuttering and, quite frankly, embarrassing, to say the least. A far cry from the confident man he’d like to think he has become. “Why would I talk to you?”

“That’s rude,” you pout, and he straightens up immediately.

“No, I just mean, like,” he waves his arms out in between the two of you, gesturing over and shaking his head. “You’re you. We were never really on the same level for me to be talking to you.”

You bring your glasses back onto the top of your head, pushing your hair out of your face and squinting against the sun to level him with a glare. “Aren’t you a big time athlete?”

“I am now. You wouldn’t have given me the time of day back then.”

“You never gave me a chance to.”

“You could have approached me.” He thinks you’re just biting back for argument’s sake, if he’s honest - there isn’t a chance in hell you ever spared a thought for talking to him or giving him the time of day. You barely even looked his way - and he definitely would have noticed. 

“So could you.” You frown. 

“I tried once.” He distinctly remembers the one time he did approach you, away from class and apart from the first time he met you, dialled up with liquid courage and driven by the way you were dressed as a sexy Patrick Bateman, and he finally felt like having the right conversation starter around his love for American Psycho might have helped him kick something off with you, or at least got you to acknowledge his existence. He would have even taken you calling him Lu again. “At a Halloween party in Freshman year. You blew me off. I barely got a word out before you were storming off.”

“When you were dressed as Scooby Doo?”

His lips part and close repeatedly like a fish bobbing it’s mouth, blinking slowly at you as he realised just what you even having that memory meant. “That’s a weird thing to remember for someone not interested.”

“A giant dork in a dog costume is a pretty hard thing to forget.” You grin satirically, “I never said I wasn’t interested, you just caught me at a bad time and never tried again,”

“You wanted me to try again?”

“I want you to be quiet. Aren’t you due a nap or something?”

“You can’t seriously tell me you asked me to bring you all the way out here just to lie out in the sun and do nothing,” he groans, watching you return back to your previous position, body bathing in the sunlight and sunglasses pushed back down onto your nose. 

“What, did you think we were gonna play mermaids?” He can’t see the roll of your eyes anymore, but he knows when it happens by now, just from your tone of voice. 

“You can do that back at the house, we have loungers out by the pool,”

“It’s not as peaceful as this.” You sigh, “Plus, the trees around the back block the sun this time of day. I’m getting pale cooped up in the club all week, I have catching up to do.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Lay back and relax,” you advise, nodding toward the bench he’s perched on the edge of, reaching your hand down into your tote and blindly tossing the bottle of sunscreen in his general direction, “You could use some sun, too. And if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you do my back later.”

Luke, surprisingly, folds - doing as he’s told and lounging back into the leather, and he begrudgingly thinks a little too much about how right you are. This is peaceful. The soft whoosh of water against the boat, clear blue skies, no yelling or arguing or people competing around him. Just you, and the sunshine, and the smell of melon-scented sun lotion seeping into his skin.

It isn’t long before he drifts off, his head resting on his folded arm, the heat of the sun warming him like a blanket, and the last thing he sees before his eyes close is your head turned his way, lips parted slightly as you sleep, yourself, skin glistening and your chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. 

When his eyes open again, you’re sat up, holding your hair up with one hand and fanning yourself with the other.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, voice thick with sleep as he sits up, his skin peeling uncomfortably off the leather. 

“I’m hot.” You whine, turning to him with a pout.

He scoffs, resisting the urge to say something corny like, I know you are, before he points out over the side of the boat. “If you look to your right, there’s a large body of water you can cool down in.”

“I’m not getting in there!”

“Why not?”

“Lake monsters, for one,” you scoff, releasing your hair and he watches it fan out over your shoulders in soft waves.

“They’re only native to Scotland, I heard.” Luke stands, looking over the side and into the steady waters to gauge how safe it would be to go in without a vest. The water is still, he’s never had any problems in this part of the lake, and he’s confident the two of you could at least take a dip without there being any concerns - you were a lifeguard, after all, and he’s always been a strong swimmer. 

“Aren’t there fish in here?” You ask, beside him now as you peer over the edge yourself. 

“There’s actually a cool hack to check, do you want me to show you?”

You eye him sceptically but nod, anyway, and he holds his hand out to help you walk to the back of the boat, stepping down onto the stern where it’s easier to reach into the water. 

You’re careful not to let him fall behind you, clearly cautious of the fact that he could push you in. Instead, he stands beside you, squats to reach down over the edge and run his fingers through the ripples that form. He stands back to full height and you squint to look up at him, the sun blaring from over his shoulder and reflecting off his sweat-slicked skin. 

It makes your eyes sparkle again, and it’s almost enough to make him change his mind from what he’s about to do - only, before your powers of hypnosis can work on him for the second time in a matter of hours, he quickly grasps onto your hips and launches the two of you into the water. 

He has the same misguided confidence he had when he squirted you with that hose - a burst of energy that he immediately succumbed to before he could think rationally about it, and it’s the same energy that forces deep and hearty laughter to rumble from his chest as you squeal on your way into the lake. 

The two of you land with a big splash, and emerge simultaneously, you running your hands through your wet hair to push it back out of your face.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“You said you were hot, I was trying to help!”

“You are so dead!” You exclaim, splashing him with a swat of your hand against the water.

“Oh, look, a fish!”

“Ew, no!” You yell, squirming forward to try and dodge it, unintentionally leaping right into Luke, the heat of his firm chest under your flattened palm, an arm curling over his shoulder to steady yourself. 

His arms curl around your body by instinct, wrapping around your waist and holding you against him until you realise his trick, and your hands press on the top of his head until you’re pushing him under the surface with a yell of, “So dead!”

Laughter ripples out of him, from the pits of his stomach to the parting of his lips, and comes out in bubbles against your skin as you hold him down, your body thrashing to get away from his until you break free from his hold, and he rises back from under the water.

“Get back here, you’re not getting away with that!” He calls after you, launching himself forward to catch you.

“No,” you squeal, trying to gain momentum as you leap away, only for his arm to curl around your waist, pulling your squirming body back against him with a splash. “Let me go, you brute!”

“Tell me you’re having fun or you’re getting dunked,” he commands, lips beside your ear as your back is held flush to his chest, your skin still warm from the sun and smooth against his. 

“You dunk me and I’ll leave your ass to the lake monsters,” you warn him, still squirming in his hold.

“Like you could drive the boat, you need me,” your body seems to still the lower his tone gets, succumbing to his hypnotising powers, and he can feel you square your shoulders against him. 

“Yeah right,” even Luke can tell how much your denial is forced from the shiver down your spine, “Jack can do it, how hard could it be?”

“You’d really hijack the boat just to avoid admitting you like my company?” He asks as he lets you go, and you turn immediately in the water to face him. He tilts his head when your gazes meet across the water, and your eyes flicker between his as if trying to read him like a book.

“Today’s been nice,” you admit, with a dramatic roll of your eyes, “Last night, too. Not specific to your company. Just being away from everybody else."

“So that’s the key?” He dares to swim a little closer, just enough that you won’t notice him reducing the proximity between the two of you. “You wanna get me on my own?”

“You-,”

“Wish,” he finishes, your eyes meeting in a steady gaze despite the bobbing of your heads to stay afloat. He’d like to think it’s more than the water that has brought you back this close to him, legs kicking beneath the surface, his hands itching to hold back on your waist to help, “Yeah, I do.”

If he has managed to stay more or less in place while treading water, then it can’t be the current drifting you toward him, and you’re so close now that he could hold you, if his brain could just link to his hands to give them the courage to do so. 

You like being alone with him - you’ve pretty much just admitted so - feel comfortable enough that you change your plans to fit him into them - just like you had last night - you wanted him to talk to you in college, you noticed him, even, enough to remember the fact that he never did. 

There has to be some base level of interest there for you to be this close, in the first place. To move into his house, to agree to spend your summer in his company, to spending more time with him than he’s noticed you spending with your supposed best friend. 

And just as he convinces himself of it, and his thoughts link to the movement of his hands underwater, inching closer to grip at your hips and pull you all the way toward him, a shrill ringing carries all the way from the boat to Luke’s ears, turning both of your attention back to the vehicle.

“Shit, that’s Jack’s ringtone.” He groans, “They’re probably back by now.”

The two of you swim back toward the boat, and he pulls himself up onto the stern before lending you a hand to get up, yourself. 

There are a bunch of texts from his brother.

Where are you at?

Did the demon get you in your sleep?

Where’s the boat?

Please tell me you’re dumping her body and she’s not dumping yours.

You’re dead either way when you get back!

“Shit, we better get back,” he grumbles, rushing to the front of the boat to get it started again. Before you sit beside him, he feels the draping of a towel across his shoulders, and his heart thuds at the small smile you give him when his eyes meet yours.

“Sorry if I got you in trouble.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, nonchalant despite the rampant beating in his chest, and the thought of his brother chewing his ear off when the two of you get back. “You’re worth the headache.”

He winks, teasingly, and his eyes go back to the water before he gets the chance to see your cheeks flush. You’d probably just blame it on sunburn, anyway.

You don’t speak much on the drive back, but Luke can feel your eyes on him, can practically hear your mind whirring with a million thoughts - only because his is doing the same. 

Why does he has to have a brother with the world’s worst timing?

He would have kissed you.

At least, he thinks he would have.

His hands were reaching out. He would have pulled you in by the hips, held you against him, raised so that your faces were finally level, and he would have made a move. He can feel it in his bones, still thrumming with almost-arrogance. A knowing, sure feeling that he can’t shake - one that tells him you would have kissed him back.

But he’ll never know, now.

When the two of you get back, Jack is waiting on the dock, and you gather your things before Luke helps you off the boat. He ushers you past his brother, knowing you’d be down to argue all afternoon, if necessary, but he can take this one on his own. He doesn’t want you hearing the sort of venom he knows his brother can spew out when he’s mad like this.

You brush past Jack on the edge of the dock, who thankfully waits until you’re back at the gate and out of earshot to start on Luke.

“What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

“What, I’m not allowed to have fun when you’re not here?” Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes at his brother’s theatrics.

So he took the boat out, it’s really not that deep, he thinks. He’s an adult, he has his license, there really shouldn’t be a problem.

“I know you’ve seen Jennifer’s Body, you shouldn’t be out on the lake on your own with her,”

“Implying she’s a demonic serial killer might be a little over-dramatic, even for you,” Luke huffs as he starts to make his own way back.

 “Trust me, it’s not.” Jack stops him with a hand gripping at his elbow. “Whatever trick she’s pulling on you, Luke, you need to wise up,”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“She isn’t interested,” Jack tells him, “She’s using you to pass the time until someone better falls into her lap, and you’re falling straight for it. Letting her convince you to stay behind and miss hanging with the rest of us, taking the boat out on your own, don’t you think it’s weird how she never had any interest in talking to you before it started benefitting her? Before you made it to the big leagues?”

Luke narrows his eyes at his brother, shoulders slumping as the words seem to weigh on them, like a heavy towel draped across to dry him and rub away all the affections you had blessed him with over the past 24 hours.

But it isn’t Jack’s words that are ringing around his head, this time. It’s yours. 

You never talked to me.

You never gave me a chance.

You never tried again.

Maybe you did have some level of interest before. Maybe his intuitions earlier had been right. Maybe it’s still there. 

“It’s none of your business, Jack,” he grumbles, not allowing him a second to rain on this parade. “You don’t even know her.”

“Don’t come crying to me when she breaks your heart, then.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

If you’re thankful for any rule at the house, it’s the rule for knocking before you come into any bedroom. Quinn knocks most mornings to let you know breakfast is being prepared, or before he goes on a store run to ask if there’s anything you or Ellie need. Jack knocks for Ellie, and now Cole does too.

You can always tell when it’s Luke though.

Repeated and incessant, a constant rapping of knuckles against the wood until you answer, instead of any sort of pattern or rhythm.

“Can I come in?” He asks as soon as you open.

“No.” You tell him every time, but to no avail. 

“Thanks,” He swerves into the space beside you, careful not to shove past as he makes his way into the bedroom. “We have a problem.”

“Yeah, they’re called boundaries, Hughes.” You scoff, slamming the door and following him. “You can’t just waltz in here like you own the place.”

“I do.” He frowns, “Own the place. This is my house."

“Your brothers own it, actually.”

“What are you, Michigan Census Bureau?” You mimic the words back to him, your face scrunched tight and your voice as whiney and annoying as it can go, and he pushes his hand in your face, just light enough to cover it and not actually smack you because he doesn’t have a death wish. “The problem. You have to focus,” he clicks his fingers in front of you, and you swat his hand away with a frown.

“Click at me like a dog again and I’ll bite your fingers off.” The look on your face is one he should probably fear, but there’s a nagging instinct he can’t fight to keep pushing your buttons. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but it feels wrong to ignore.

“Is that supposed to turn me on?”

“The problem, Luke, get on with it.”

“Right.” He sighs, throwing himself down on the bed, “I can’t find Cole and Ellie anywhere. I think he took her out.”

“What?” You reach forward and push at his shoulder, “You had one job, Hughes!”

It had been his turn to take watch, as the two of you had agreed the other day out on the water, but it was really starting to get tiring, having to play third wheel to a situation he really didn’t understand, and he needed a recess. Five minutes just to recuperate, he didn’t expect them to make a break for it so quick. 

“I left to make a sandwich! I’m allowed to eat, you can’t expect me to starve it goes against my rights!”

“You’re such an idiot,” You scoff as you rush toward the closet to find something to wear, your plans of a self-care day now flushed down the toilet thanks to Luke’s insatiable appetite. “You couldn’t watch them for an hour without succumbing to malnutrition?”

“Why can’t you be on watch for once?”

“I was doing my nails,” You retort, wiggling your freshly painted fingernails in his face, crimson red to match your toes, and the colour Luke feels his cheeks turning at the sight of them. “Because thanks to someone the gel started lifting after spending my entire afternoon the other day with my hands in a soapy bucket.”

“You’re the one who took the detour to beat Jack home and got my car all dirty.”

“Whatever, turn around.” You’re already lifting your tank over your head before Luke gets the chance to comply, his mouth falling agape before he can control it at the sight of you stood in just your bra and pyjama shorts in front of him. The instruction only registers when your tank top hits him in the face, dropping into his lap so he can look up at your scowl and swivel in his place on the bed. “They’re probably at the mall, she was saying she wanted to go to the art supply store there.”

“So what, we’re gonna just bump into them? Won’t they think it’s weird we’re showing up there after we both said we were staying in today?” He tries not to look into the corner of the room, where he knows the mirror placed there will show him the reflection of you changing - although what’s the use in hiding anything, now? He’s already seen it.

He’s also seen you in your many different bikinis over the past few of weeks. Has been up close and personal, even, holding your body against his out in the lake. 

But your bathing suits aren’t slightly sheer and frilly around the edges, and don’t push up on anything - not that they really need to.

But thinking about that isn’t gonna do him any favours. 

Old men playing chess, animals in the shelter, getting slammed into the boards at high speeds - thinking of those should get his mind back on track.

“Nope, we’re gonna follow them.”

“I thought you said that spying on people is childish.”

“It is when you’re talking about lurking in bushes and hiding behind menus, Luke.”

When he sees you come around the front of the bed to grab your sneakers, he decides on his own terms he can turn back around, careful not to let his eyes linger too long on the expanse of your legs beneath the skirt you’ve now changed into. 

If it wasn’t for the other afternoon spent working together to wash his car, or the evening spent watching movies, sharing a bottle of wine and indulging in those sticky face masks or the way you had quite literally drifted into his arms in the lake the other day, he would probably feel like a creeper for the way his one track mind has persisted. But, despite your efforts to convince him otherwise, he isn’t deluded. 

There’s something brewing between the two of you. 

It’s in the twitch of your lips that now follows every time you roll your eyes, and the magnetised force in which your eyes track him whenever he enters the room, where you had been entirely indifferent before - you’re warming up to him, he can sense it.

“So what’s the plan?”

“I wanna see what it is they keep running off together for,” you shrug as you braid your hair into pigtails in the mirror, your gaze flickering back to him, “Every time we interrupt them, they just keep sneaking back off again. Maybe if we find out what it is they’re doing, we’ll be better at keeping them away from doing it.”

“And how are we supposed to stay hidden?”

“Easy, we have to wear something we usually wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

“I’ve seen you in that exact outfit like twelve times.” He gestures with a lazy hand to the outfit you have on - white t-shirt, navy skirt, socks that go just above your ankles and the same pair of sneakers he must have seen you in every day the last year you were both in college together. 

Not that he was paying that close attention.

“I know. Can I borrow that quarter zip you wore the other day? You know, the one that’s the colour of baby poop? Super hideous, really gross-,”

“Har har, real funny,” he whips the tank top he’s still, for whatever reason, clutching in his hands at you before throwing it onto the bed, and storming toward the door, calling out a, “Let’s go,” over his shoulder and not bothering to check if you’re coming when he starts to make his way downstairs - the echo of your giggling laughter following him down the hallway tells him as much.

—

“Are you sure she said the art supply store?”

Luke’s neck is starting to hurt from craning it above the shelves in search of Ellie’s curls, this being the second art store the two of you have checked. Somehow he’s the one looking out while you peruse the shop, now cooing at a section of crotchet animal kits and pointing them out until he mutters out some half-hearted cute, or nice.

“There aren’t many things I could have confused it for, Luke, unless you know of anything that rhymes with art supplies?” You pick up one of the kits, turning it to assess the difficulty by the pictures on the back before putting it back on the shelf.

“Maybe she said she had parts to buy?”

“Alright, smartass,” You scoff, shouldering past him to make your way toward the exit, clearly having no luck in finding them here. She definitely wouldn’t have parts to buy for anything, she’s hardly Fix-It Felix. “You can buy me lunch and we’ll see if she’s put anything on her story yet.”

“I’m starting to think they’re not even at the mall and you’ve lured me out of the house under false pretences for free food.” The diffidence he’s giving is entirely forced as he drags his feet behind you, following you out of the store. “If you wanted me to take you on a date, you could have just asked. It was probably the stop for a smoothie that had us missing them in the first place.”

You gasp, and before he has the opportunity to retort with something just as annoying, you grab his hand and tug him with you behind one of the giant plants that are beside the coffee stand, keeping a hold of him as you poke your head around the corner.

“There they are,” you whisper back, your fingers still clutching at his as he crowds into the same space to make sure he too is hidden behind the sprawling leaves.

“Oh so hiding behind bushes is alright if it’s your idea?”

“Shh,” you frown, your hand releasing his and pressing over his mouth, “They’ll hear you, Loud Mouth,” and his eyes follow the pointed finger on your other hand to where Ellie and Cole are walking together toward the store you and Luke just left - side by side, sodas in hand, smiling and laughing and nudging at each other. 

In better circumstances, he’d be thinking about how he’s pressed to your back, bending to accommodate for the height difference, your head tilted to make room for his to lean in for a better look, and your hand still resting on his face, not really covering his mouth but more caressing his jaw in an absentminded fashion as you watch the two of them. 

But all he can think about, disturbingly enough, is his brother - and how hurt he’d be to see what’s happening between his supposed best friends. 

“We’re following them, right?” He asks lowly, his face not too far from yours, and when you turn your head to the side to look at him, he feels like your gaze is softer than usual when it takes in how hardened and dark his is.

“Definitely,” you agree, stepping away from him and turning to face him properly. “If you saw me out of the corner of your eye, you wouldn’t know it was me, right?”

Wrong, Luke thinks, but that’s only because he’d be able to pick you out of a line up in a pitch black room by now - blind folded, spun around a few times for good measure and facing the wrong way.

When he had found a Mets jersey on the rack in the Goodwill you had dragged him to in search of a disguise, and your words from earlier about not being caught dead in something had rang in his head, he had thought it was perfect. And then you had waltzed over with the same jersey, and your eyes had lit up.

“We can’t wear the same thing,” he frowned, unable to hold the weight of the expression for too long when he saw just how excited you were getting. “That’s hardly blending in."

“No, it’s perfect!” You exclaimed, “Ellie would never expect me to match anyone!”

He had thought the shirts were too much before you threw in the identical orange baseball caps you had found, and at that point he was cursing whatever scorned woman it was that dumped all her ex’s shit into the thrift store.

The two of you look cute in your matching gear, he can’t deny that, he just wishes you could have found something that made him feel a little less dirty, maybe Wolverine blue and yellow, if you were gonna dress up as a couple.

Luke doesn’t like how you still make his throat dry in Mets gear.

He reaches out to adjust the cap on your head, pulling the bill down to cast more of a shadow over your face, and combining that with the way your braids, the ones you said you’d never usually wear but seem to suit you anyway, come out the bottom of either side of the cap, he figures anyone else would have a hard time immediately placing you. “Probably not,” he shrugs, making sure to keep an eye on the apparent lovebirds still hovering in the entrance of the art store. 

“Great.” You smile victoriously, “Put your arm around me.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” You scoff, “I’m hardly asking you to ravage me outside the Pretzel Peddler, Hughes, make haste,” you shoo him forward, taking control of the situation and forcing yourself under his arm as the two of you stumble back toward the art store. 

Remaining incognito isn’t entirely hard when the two of you are moving as one, you stuffed under his arm and him able to hide his face in the top of your head if he thinks either Cole or Ellie are likely to see you.

Following them is easy, able to maintain a short enough distance that you can both eavesdrop on their minimal conversation, and there isn’t really a problem until they break apart. 

Ellie goes toward the back of the store, Cole towards the front, and you whisper to Luke that it might be best for you to break apart, too - if you both follow one of them, the other is more likely to catch you - and so you drift after Cole, and he drifts after Ellie, and while the two of you can still see each other, there are a lot of unidentifiable hand gestures in place of where you can no longer talk. That is, until Cole heads further down the other end of the store, and you slip completely out of view.

It’s less fun, spying this way, watching as Ellie browses the shelves, looking over all the sketchbooks until she finds the right one - as if he hasn’t seen a stack of around 5 of them in their room back at the house - swerving so fast on her feet that Luke stumbles on his own to get away, rushing around the bend before she can see him. 

When he rounds the corner of the aisle and sees you heading straight for him, eyes wide and step rushed, he rushes, too, tripping forward until the two of you collide, your stance thankfully much sturdier than his. You grab him by his shirt to make sure he’s steady on his feet before you pull him with you as you fall against the shelf behind you, standing on your tip toes and tugging him down to meet your lips with a surprised grunt.

What the fuck?

Your hands move up to cup at either side of his face, holding him in place as you angle to slot the bill of your cap to the side of his so they don’t bump and fall off, and he loses himself in the warmth of your kiss before he even realises that he’s halfway gone. Your hands cover both of your profiles, and Luke thinks that if you are caught, there’s no way for them to identify the two of you unless Ellie has the orange-red colour and long, supposedly almond - or so you had told him - shape of your nails memorised. Because who would pay such close attention to something like that?

A hand falls to your hip, another to your waist, and he’s teasing your back into an arch with his touch, only distantly hearing surprised exclamations of oh fuck, and sorry, from either side of the aisle.

He pays no mind to the sound of rushed, retreating footsteps, trying to press his tongue between your lips for a further taste of very berry smoothie and sugary balm that he can feel the stickiness of, that he wants his lips to be coated in forever.

He savours the seconds after, where you drag out the show just to make sure Ellie and Cole have actually disappeared, and he pushes his luck one more time, deepening the kiss until you pull away, your hands on his chest shoving purposefully. 

“What was that for?” He asks, breathless and dazed as he takes in your appearance, lips swollen and wet by his doing, pupils dilated.

“PDA makes people uncomfortable, right?” you shrug, like it’s the most obvious explanation for the way you just kissed the life out of him. Like there was nothing else you possibly could have done to get out of that predicament. And his heart thumps as he remembers that those are his words, uttered in a tease way back in the restaurant at the club. “They were hardly gonna stick around and watch, I don’t have Caufield down as a voyeur.”

Luke watches as your eyes drop briefly to his lips, and he swears he sees the flicker of a smile twitch at the corners of your mouth. His fingers come up by instinct, pressing tentatively at the sticky residue that coats the outline of them.

“You tell anyone I did that and I’ll gut you like a fish, Hughes.”

He nods, still in a daze, if he’s honest, and stays in place while you nudge past him to follow in the direction where Ellie and Cole disappeared. 

When he does finally come to, shaking his head to pull himself out of the way his brain is trying to relive the last few minutes, he follows, too - maybe less discreet in his movements, this time, in the hopes that another close call might just gain him another kiss, too.

You’d like to think you have good intuition when it comes to others and their actions. You can see straight through people, a shift in their expression, a twitch in their smile, a glint in their eye - it makes you protective of the people you surround yourself with, keeping only a close-knit group of friends, and keeping everyone else at arms length. 

Friends who you know when they’re upset, or down, need someone around, or need space. It’s how you know Luke has been avoiding you all week, and how you know even more just to leave him to it. 

Not that you’re friends.

It started with long days at the rink - not that you lament his training, but you know he hadn’t been that deep into his regimen so far this summer. Quinn had been the one to drop you off at the club that last couple of days, and Luke hadn’t joined the group when they had played a round of golf and stopped by the bar for some refreshments after.

You’ve seen him around the house still, usually shooting off to God-knows-where, eyes locking in the hall as he passes you like a ship in the night, until he shifts his gaze with an awkward smile.

If he wants to be childish about one stupid, meaningless kiss, you have no choice but to let him.

You’d hardly forced yourself on him. He could have pushed you off if he didn’t want it. Instead, he’d pulled you even closer, even tried to slip you some tongue! And it had kind of been his suggestion in the first place.

You wouldn’t be so bothered about it if you had something to do with Ellie gone for the next week - her little sister’s birthday taking precedent over your summer plans, and the family taking a trip out of state. You can’t even go out, trapped inside due to the unforeseen storm - and you hate thunder, it reminds you too much of all those tumultuous nights locked in your room, listening to your parents fighting, the wind and rain doing little to drown it all out.

But all you have is the house, and with the house comes the movies - the ones he had promised to watch with you.

You had both written down your top ten, yours in his notes, and his in yours, and the damn page has been haunting you every time you unlock your phone. And that’s how you’ve given in so easily. It has nothing to do with the fact you miss him - it’s just pure boredom and curiosity that has you watching Happy Gilmore on your own on a Friday night.

You don’t miss him.

That would be ridiculous.

Luke Hughes is annoying. 

His taste of movies is annoying.

The fact that won’t talk to you is annoying.

“Hey, I thought we were gonna watch this together.”

Or not.

Luke leans against the doorway, possessing the kind of casual indifference that only a man could, frowning and pouting as if he’s not the sole reason you’re cooped up on your own watching a damn movie about golf of all things.

“Thought you were avoiding me,” you bite back, arms crossed over your chest and brows furrowed in frustration. 

“Why would I be avoiding you?” He asks as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him, your eyes darting straight to long, slender fingers wrapped around the handle. 

“Because you kissed me, and then all of a sudden started acting like I don’t exist to you.” You accuse with a pointed glare, figuring one of you has to have the guts to talk about it. 

“Actually, you kissed me,” he smirks, perching himself on the edge of your bed, “And then told me in graphic detail you’d pretty much murder me if I ever spoke about it again, so I,” he frowns, “Didn’t.”

You can’t help but scowl at how stupid that sounds. He can’t seriously think you would murder him. If you were the murdering type in the first place, you’d have done it long ago. You even tell him as much.

“I don’t know, you had this scary look in your eye, kind of didn’t want to test that theory,” he shrugs, reaching in the pocket of his hoodie and throwing a bag over to you. 

M&Ms. Your favourite.

“You gonna scoot over?” He asks, raising a brow and widening his eyes as if he’s pleading, as if you’ve been the one giving him the cold shoulder.

You roll your eyes and shuffle across the bed, making room for him beside you that he occupies way too quick, legs stretching out in front of him, all the way down the bed, as he gets comfortable.

You try to focus on the movie, as if you have any clue what’s been happening so far, anyway, but you can see him out of the corner of your eye, an arm tucked behind his head, his chest stretched out, and his jaw tensing as he chews on the candy he’s already stealing from you.

He’s had a haircut. Shorter on the sides, and it makes his face look a little more defined. Still curly - maybe even curlier - and softer than before, in a way that you’d want to run your hands through it, if you were a crazy person, of course.

And he smells good, too.

You’re starting to think this has been his plan all along - for distance to make your wretched heart grow fonder, or whatever - and you find yourself tensing your own jaw as you grind your teeth and try to tune back into whatever Adam Sandler is yapping about. 

“I sort of was avoiding you,” he admits, and you can still see him out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you, now, although you don’t look back.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, shifting a little to face you more, “I thought you might have felt weird about kissing me.”

“I didn’t.” 

“Okay then.”

“Alright.”

“We can talk about it, if you want?” He suggests, and that’s finally when you look at him, with his lips twisted nervously and his brow raised, anticipating your response. 

What’s there to even talk about? You kissed him as a distraction. He knows that. You know that. 

“I’m good.” You tell him, a short, forced smile to ease the tension before he smiles back.

“I know something we can talk about,” he leans in, “Considering how little you care about this movie.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“How you had a big fat crush on me in college,” he smirks, eyes darting between yours, the flash from the tv screen highlighting all the different hues of blues and greens in his irises.

He’s not gonna catch you out, though.

“You’re delusional.” You tell him, your own eyes narrowing, almost like a defence mechanism. He seems to be quite good at reading you, and you’re not letting him in that easy.

“So you keep saying,” he pouts, pensively, “But then it’s you never talked to me, Luke, and I remember small random details about you, Luke!”

“I don’t sound like that,” you frown, taking slight offence to the squeaky voice he puts on, more than likely to distract you from the closing distance. He speaks again before you can realise you really should be putting more effort into denying such ridiculous accusations, before he completely slanders your good name. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all week and I missed you, Luke-,”

You don’t know why your mouth is all of a sudden on his, but if you take a second to think about it, you’ll spiral out. His lips are soft, and your noses slot perfectly beside each other - no painful bumps or clumsy collisions. Just a plain, normal kiss between two people who tolerate each other. That’s all.

When you part, his eyes drift open softly, his lashes - infuriatingly long as they are - flutter open, and his irises glaze over as if he’s under a spell. 

“That was-,”

“To shut you up,” you mutter, rolling your own eyes and forcing a scowl. “You were starting to give me a headache.”

He nods, that dumb look still in his eyes, and you feel your jaw clenching almost achingly at how it makes you feel.

“And I care very deeply about Gilmore’s happiness, so if you could cut it out with your yapping, I’d really appreciate it.”

“His name is Happy-,”

“I didn’t ask.”

When Luke is on the ice, most of the noise around him usually tunes itself out. Aside from the scrape of his skates, and the thudding of his heart, he can usually dial out the crowd, the chanting, the booing, the chirping, whatever it may be - all distractions to the end goal.

The one noise he never can ignore, though, is that of the goal horn, blearing throughout the arena, bouncing off of every corner until it hits him like a freight train, and he thinks they ring a little louder when it’s him that scores.

And with that horn, he can fine tune himself back into his surroundings. To shouts and cheers and applause, a sea of red and white jerseys jumping up, the Devils logo brandished across their chests, and his work being praised by the masses.

He somehow has the power to zero in on you, too. Arms raised, up a little in the stands, not too far that you’re just a speck, but not too close that you’d be a distraction.

A wide smile on your face, adoration in your eyes, and 43 on your arm. 

“Luke!” Your lips read, drowned out by the crowd, but he can still make it out, calling out to him like you’re the only other person in the room. “C’mon, Luke!” 

He smiles, as big as he ever has before, and points straight at you, dropping a wink like you could possibly catch it from out in the stands, and taking a bow.

“Hughes, you big lump, wake up!”

He groans as he’s shaken from his sleep, soft hands gripping at his arms and jolting him awake.

“What?” He doesn’t open his eyes, not yet, but he thinks it’s the weight of his furrowed eyebrows keeping them closed. 

“I need a favour,” you whisper.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s 2am. I don’t do favours before 9.”

“C’mon, please?” He opens one eye to your pleading face, and then another, when he catches the teary reflection of the moonlight in your eyes.

“What is it?” He straightens up, rubbing the sleep from his eyelids and straining to make the rest of you out in the dark. 

“I need you to look at the window in my room, it’s whistling.”

“It’s just the storm, it gets like that when it’s windy,” he sighs, sinking back down a little into his pillows. He had thought you were in danger, or something.

“Can’t you fix it?” You plead, soft fingers still squeezing a little at his bicep, and his chest starts to feel heavy just from the tone of your voice - but it’s 2am. You had him up until midnight watching Wall-E, and he has a morning skate with his dad at 6am. 

“Do I look like a handyman?” He huffs, also a little aggrieved at the fact you had disrupted his rather nice dream. “Just go to sleep and ignore it.”

“I can’t.” You whine, “I can’t sleep if there’s a storm, they freak me out. And I can’t ignore it when it’s literally screaming at me through a broken window. And I’m on my own in there, it’s scary.”

Luke presses his palm firm into the socket of his closed eyes, trying to rub away the exhaustion that is urging every fibre of his being to fall straight back asleep. 

He can’t fix the window. It’s been like that for as long as him and his brothers have lived here - always the dud room left to whoever rocks up last to the house - and even if he could, he’s comfortable, and warm, and if his bare feet touch the cold, hardwood floor, he won’t be able to get himself to drift back off. 

He sighs, shuffling beneath the sheets before grasping them and flipping them over, making room beside him and muttering a grumpy, demanding, “Get in.”

“Luke,” you whine, and he can see your pout even through his closed eyes - lips plump and plush and if he gets even a glimpse he’s going to start thinking about kissing them, again. “You’re really not gonna help me?”

“I don’t offer my super comfy bed up to just anybody,” he reasons, making a little more room, “C’mon, you can barely hear the rain in here, it’s this or the couch downstairs.”

“Can’t you take the couch and I take your comfy bed?”

Luke opens one eye to look at you, eyes glimmering nervously in the crack of moonlight that sneaks through the curtains, lip tugged between your teeth, and relents, immediately. “Do you want me to take the couch?”

He could probably go sleep in your bed, if you’re really that bothered. He doesn’t do too well with noises while he sleeps, but he will if he has to - if that’s what makes you feel better. But you had just said it was scary being alone, and he’s counting on that to make a case for himself to keep his super comfy bed in his whistle-less bedroom.

“No,” you grumble, shoving at his arm, “Move over a little more.”

He relents, making as much room as he can for you to crawl into his bed before he flips the sheets back over on top of you, waiting for you to get comfortable before he melts back into place.

His legs extending into yours is purely accidental, but he doesn’t move them when you don’t flinch away, taking a second to adjust his positioning until he realises something. 

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“Neither are you.” You mumble back straight away, turning to face him, the bare skin of your calves brushing his as you move.

“It’s my bed,” he shrugs, his body on its side and his arm beneath his pillow, the space cramped now that you’re both squeezed in, and he’s trying to give you room, but he swears you have space on the other side. “I don’t wear pants to bed.”

“I don’t either.” 

“What if there’s a fire?”

“I think I’d rather succumb to the flames than let your brothers see me in my panties.”

He just hums, sleepily, trying not to overthink how you wouldn’t mind him seeing you in them. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the press of your skin to his. 

“Do you want me to go put pants on, Luke, would that make you happy?”

“Don’t ask such a ridiculous question.” He huffs, sinking into his pillows and getting himself back into the right position to drop back off into a deep slumber. “Go to sleep.”

The soft patter of rain against the window lulls him, and he slowly feels you relax beside him, a few minutes of silence settling between the two of you - comforting and still - before you break it. 

“Luke?” You whisper, this time barely audible, like you don’t even want to be heard - and it’s that thought that has him ignoring you, sleep clutching his eyes closed anyway, so close to drifting back off. 

He feels your body shuffle against the mattress, still not enough to lure him back into full consciousness, but he’s aware enough to know your every move.

And he’d like to think he can predict them, imagining you shuffling to get comfy and hoping he’s too deep in his sleep to care if you nudge him while doing so.

But he could never predict the soft press of your lips to the corner of his mouth, and the gentle, almost non-existent muttering of a thank you against his skin. 

He only lets himself smile when he can feel you settle back into the bed, body laid beside him, bare legs brushing against his under the sheets.

You are so welcome, he thinks, that soft smile curving into something much deeper as he succumbs to sleep, body melting into an oozy, gooey, consuming mess beside your own. 

Luke should have known you’d get your own back on him for the whole avoiding thing.

The two of you had been sweet for a solid week, movie nights every other night, especially after you had shared his bed, you’d even made him lunch to come back to the day after. And he had started driving you to and from work, again.

And it’s the drive home from work one day that he sees something in you switch.

“It’s just gonna be a couple people, you’ll probably even know some of the girls from college.”

“It’s your house, Luke, you don’t have to explain your parties to me.” You shift your knees back to face the dash, where they had just been angled toward him, and you cross your arms against your chest. 

“We can pick back up on movie night tomorrow, I don’t have any training all day so we can do a marathon, if you want.”

“Ellie’s back today, so I don’t know.”

He frowns, tightening his fingers around the wheel as he watches you retreat all of a sudden, like you’re annoyed with him, or something.

And then as soon as he pulls up outside the house, you’re climbing out of the car before he even has a chance to come around and open the door for you, storming up the driveway and disappearing inside.

He tries not to let it get to him. Tries to lose himself in the festivities of the night - a house party thrown on whim at the discovery that most of the brothers’ mutual friends were in town. He was excited to see his boys from Michigan, Ethan, Dylan, Luca and Jacob, who all climb out of Ethan’s truck with a 6-pack in hand, and crowd around Luke, embracing him with brotherly pats on his back and ushering him into the kitchen to partake in their pre game ritual - a round of shots to line their stomachs. 

He still keeps a close eye on you once the party is underway. Watches you and Ellie, watches when Cole joins the two of you, and you laugh at whatever dumb jokes he’s trying to tell you. Watches your gaze flicker his way throughout the night, and leave just as quickly, and he has to shrug off the chirps of his friends when they notice, too.

He later watches you catch up with a couple of the girls coming from your sorority, and that’s around the time he loses you, lost in a round of beer pong that fills his bladder quicker than he could have anticipated.

He excuses himself up to his room, the music dying down the further upstairs he gets, and relieves himself with an inebriated bop of his head to whatever melody he can still hear blasting through the floorboards. 

He zips his jeans back up, and ambles over to the sink, washing his hands under the faucet until the sound of his door opening has his heart falling into the pit of his stomach. 

“Jesus,” he gasps, shutting off the water and turning to face where you’re stepping into the room and closing the door behind yourself. “You ever heard of knocking? What are you doing upstairs?”

“Was just checking you weren’t like jerking off in here or something,”

“What if I was, were you planning on watching?”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, pulling a face to feign some sort of offence, but Luke watches as you fidget, tucking your hair behind your ears and shuffling on your feet. 

“Like you’ve been watching me all night,” he smirks, tossing the towel he had used to dry his hands back onto the hook and taking a step into your space, backing you against the counter, your shoes no longer shuffling along the floor. It feels like it’s been days now that you’ve been off with him, even though it’s been a mere few hours, but in those hours, he’s had a lot of time to think about your relationship, or lack thereof.  “Think I haven’t seen you? Can’t take those pretty eyes off of me, can you?”

He’d first noticed when you came downstairs with Ellie, earlier, pinned to her side and gossiping about something, no doubt catching up on her week away. You kept glancing his way, subtly at first, eyes darting over and shifting back just as quick to your best friend, faking interest and nodding along until you looked back over. Your efforts were more noticeable as the two of you moved around different corners of the room, interacting with different groups and still meeting eyes across the expanse of space between you and him. 

His heart jumped every time.

And then Victoria had arrived, just before he had been recruited to play beer pong - an old hookup from his college days. She had always been more of a friend than anything else, and Luke had no interest in reigniting whatever dampened spark they once had, she has a boyfriend now, anyway, but when her hand grazed his arm, and he looked over to see your glare zeroed in on the exact spot she was touching him, he thought he’d have a little fun with it.

Nothing too extreme, a few loud laughs, a little longer spent with her than initially anticipated, but she had been more than happy to regale him with stories about her new relationship, so pretending to pay attention didn’t seem like such a bad idea if it was going to make you do something.

He had a sneaking suspicion as to what had turned your mood, earlier, and he was about to have fun testing his theory - that you had been jealous at the mere mention of other girls being at the house.

He didn’t think it would culminate in you following him all the way up to his room, confronting him in his bathroom with nobody else around, but he’s hardly mad about it, now.

“Shut up,” you scowl, but your tone is weak, and Luke knows he’s got you. Chin tilted up to meet his eyes in defiance, gaze locked on his as he moves closer, and he’s thankful, for the first time tonight, that the boys had forced him to take those shots when the party started.

He wouldn’t have the courage to challenge you like this, otherwise - an inebriated cockiness taking over, puffing out his chest and filling him with the same sort of misplaced bravado he’s been convincing himself to muster all week.

“You already know how to make me.” He mutters, lowly, the proximity of your face to his giving his tone a breathiness that he hopes comes across more seductive than slurred. His mind is stuck on that kiss from the other night, when he had apparently irritated you so much that you felt that was your only option. 

You blink slow, eyes dropping to his lips, and before he can blink, himself, you close the distance.

This is different to before - incomparable to a kiss given just to hide your faces, one just to stop him from talking and another when you had thought he wasn’t conscious. 

This is heated, and intentional, and intense. 

Dainty fingers clutch at the front of his shirt, pinching slightly at his skin before taking a hold of the fabric, and there’s no possible way for you to play this off as something less.

Your lips are firm, slotted against his, and moving before he knows it - his tongue licking at the seams until they part, and you grant him access to the sweet taste of fruity liquor inside your mouth. 

Large hands take residence on your hips, sliding daringly backward until he’s gripping at your ass, long fingers stretching down to trace the hem of your skirt, denim thick but not immune to his absentminded efforts to chase the feeling of more. 

He’s expecting you to come to your senses, anticipating the grip of your hands to turn into a shove, and the sweetness of your taste to turn sour when you start to yell at him, fire in your eyes and venom on your tongue - but all he hears is you moaning into his mouth, all he feels is the press of your torso against his as your back arches into his touch, his fingertips grazing the top of your thigh as your skirt moves in his hold.

He’s greedy with the way he touches you after that, hands cupping, fingers kneading, nails scratching even just to leave his mark, and he barely notices yours slipping down, down, down until the cold press of your fingertips grazes his abdomen, stomach tensing at your touch. 

He groans a little, his movements halting as you manage to distract him from his ministrations, using the leverage you have on his body to press and push until your lips part - swollen and wet with his spit.

His heart thuds in his chest, thump thump thump echoing in his head as he watches you - holds his breath and stares at you with his own lips parted, the taste of you lingering in a way he doesn’t want to swallow too soon. 

He waits for your face to turn, for that hypnotised look in your eyes to turn into a glare, the distance between you bringing some much needed clarity - but the shift never comes.

Instead, you push yourself away from the counter, and he finds himself looking straight down as your hands make their way back to the hard ridges of his stomach.

“What are you doing?” He stutters as your fingers start to tickle lower.

“I wanna give you a hand.”

“Give me-,” he splutters, his own hand stopping yours in its tracks. “Am I dreaming right now? Is this a trick?”

“No,” you persist, pushing your hands despite his weak, half-hearted efforts to stop them. “You did me a favour, why can’t I do one back?” 

“Because that’s not-,” He can’t believe he’s trying to turn this down, the lump in his throat protesting the words that try to come up. You just kissed him. You just let him hike your skirt up and push you against the bathroom counter, let his fingers go so far beyond the realm of reality that he thinks he’s still lost in a dream - and he can’t figure out why he’s even questioning it, anymore. “There’s a pretty big difference between me letting you sleep in my bed and you jerking me off,”

“It’s only a big deal if you make it one, Luke.” You shrug, pausing at the waistband of his pants. Every nerve from his ribs to his toes tingles, the teasing touch of the tips of your fingers sparking something unshakable within him. “Do you want me to help you out or not?”

“Are you high or something?”

“No,” you chuckle, meeting his eyes again - sparkling and beautiful, a hidden vulnerability flashing across them at the insistence of his hesitant rejection. “Are you? You’re really gonna turn me down to just jack yourself off in here on your own?”

“Please don’t call it that.” He pleads, the last thing he needs right now is any sort of reminder of his brother. Not when you have your hands on him. Not when you could conceivably get on your knees right before him. Not when his deepest darkest fantasies could play out after so many years of pining after you. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” He lets out a panicked stammer. “Not no. I meant no, like no to your question, not no period.” 

“What?” You step back with a frustrated huff, taking your hands away, close enough still that he can reach out and grab them, holding them between the both of you.

“I want-,” Good lord, he wants a lot. He can still taste you on his tongue, still feel the press of your kiss on his own swollen lips, and his head is spinning so far out of control he doesn’t think he’ll be able to knock any sense back into it any time soon. “Are you sure?”

“Oh my God, Hughes, just pull your pants down and let’s get on with it.”

Luke pulls you in for one more kiss before he relinquishes all control, and hums and whines as you work his zipper down, the sound bouncing off the tiles and reverberating around his skull.

He doesn’t know how you can so easily go back to normal after. 

He can’t understand how you could just lift yourself back onto your feet when the two of you were finished, adjust your skirt around your hips, and leave him alone in the bathroom, panting, flushed and barely coherent, all evidence of your tryst swallowed down like the moans you had forced him to suppress - all except the faint bruises on the lowest part of his stomach that you had sucked into his skin, the ones he hopes grow darker as the days go on, the ones he feels pulsing as he rejoins his friends in the kitchen. 

He had once again promised not to utter a word to anyone - but it doesn’t stop the thousands of them that swirl around his brain after, the ones that linger there all through the night, resurface through the week, and etch themselves into the very core of his being. 

Thousands of words in hundreds of languages, mixing to form romanticised poems he might never understand.

All he does understand, is that he’s so far gone for you now, it isn’t even funny. 

Far gone is starting to seem like the understatement of the century.

Luke can’t get enough of being around you, and it’s so detached now from the two of you only ever hanging out to scheme about Jack and Ellie that he can’t even remember the last efforts you made to do anything about their relationship.

He’s now just focused on whatever relationship the two of you are building between yourselves.

Watching movies in his bed, comparing commentary on your favourites, asking for his opinion, and him asking for yours. And he likes how gentle you are with the things he loves. Movies are kind of his thing, and sharing them with someone else - sitting and watching them and waiting for some kind of reaction, good or bad - could be intimidating with anyone else. 

But you’re so attentive. You ask questions, you remember things, and you try to understand why he might love a film, and try to see things from his perspective, rather than stamping your own opinion over his and ruling anything out.

You’re open-minded, even though you pretend not to be. You’d given Happy Gilmore a second chance, even, and Luke never had you pegged as the second chance type.

You talk a lot more to him on your drives to and from work - not that you didn’t talk before, but this is different, entirely. You have actual discussions, around more than just what’s happening at the house, or what’s happening at work. 

The two of you talk about college, about your major, your plans for after school. You talk about hockey, about Jersey, about his friends and teammates back there, and the life he’s built away from the one you pretend you never knew. 

And the way he feels about you starts to consume him in ways he never thought possible. In ways that make him sort of understand where Jack had been coming from all those years, when he’d never shut up about his feelings for Ellie, and how he thought about her all the time, and wanted to be with her 24/7.

It’s what has him hovering around at the club after he and Quinn had played a round of golf, waiting outside for Quinn to give the keys back for their caddy, and spotting you chatting to Cara at the side door to the restaurant.

He waves as soon as you see him, and his heart jumps when you immediately excuse yourself to skip over, a bright smile on your face that he never thought could be directed his way.

“Hey!” You greet him, cheerily, ponytail swaying behind you as you come to a stop in front of him. 

“What time are you getting off?” He asks, foregoing any small talk and cutting straight to the chase. 

“I’m on the lunch shift today, so 3,” you pout, checking the watch on your wrist that he knows reads just past 1. “You don’t have to wait around though, I can catch a ride from somebody else,”

“No, I’ll take you home.” He assures you, “I need to go to the mall, I’ve got to get a present for a baby shower, I was hoping you’d help me.”

“I don’t know how much help I’d be, babies give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Yeah, same,” he chuckles, “Maybe we could grab dinner or something, instead?”

“I was gonna pick up a dress for the party next week, so maybe we could do that first?”

“And then dinner?” He asks, a hopeful raise of his eyebrows that is spurred on by the way you’re biting back a smile.

“Yes, Luke, then dinner.” You chuckle, beaming up at him when his face breaks out into a full-blown grin.

“Sick,” he replies, “Yeah, cool,” he nods as he watches you step away, amusement gleaming in your eyes, “I’ll be out here at 3.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Luke watches as you make your way back to the side door of the restaurant, meeting your eye when you look back at him and relishing in the way he can catch the flush of your cheeks all the way from the fountain. 

He smiles to himself as he turns on one foot, light in his step and light in his head, nodding to the guy who is painting the railings leading up to the club foyer and swinging on his feet as he waits for his brother.

If he had a little less self-awareness, he thinks he could start leaping and swinging from the nearest lamp post like a scene straight out of Singing In The Rain.

He hasn’t felt elation like this in a long time.

He hadn’t uttered the word, exactly, but this is as close to a date as he might get, and his entire body is buzzing at the thought of it. 

“Are you coming?” Quinn calls out as he descends the steps at the front of the club, keys in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

“Uhh,” Luke drags out as he not-so-subtly looks back to where you and Cara are talking by the side door. “I think I’m gonna check out the gym.”

“You know it’s just a bunch of old guys on machines in there, right? Plus, I thought we were going in the morning with the rest of the guys?”

“Right,” he mutters absentmindedly, “I meant the pool.”

“You hate indoor pools.”

“The sauna?”

“Your little crush is getting out of hand, huh?” Quinn chuckles, elbowing at Luke’s side to get his attention back.

“It’s not a crush.” Luke huffs, lips pouted as he tears his eyes away from you with great effort. 

“I think we’re past the point of you denying it, Luke,” his older brother gestures to the wall Luke had been staring at when he came outside, “You’re literally watching paint dry to pass the time until she finishes work-,”

“No, I mean like I had a crush on her,” Luke sighs, “Before this summer, when I just thought she was pretty and hot and I could never pluck up the courage to do anything about it. It doesn’t feel like a crush anymore. Or maybe it does, I don’t know, I kinda feel like she’s crushing me, to be honest.”

He gives a nervous laugh when he says it, but it’s not enough to cover up the way he really feels - not when it comes to his big brother, who puts his keys back in his pocket just so he can spare a hand to reach out and pinch at Luke’s cheeks, teasing, “Lukey’s in love,” before he swats him away.

“Hardly,” he scoffs in denial, although he doesn’t really understand why he’s fighting the thought of it so hard.

It’s not exactly a preposterous idea. Love might be an overestimation - you haven’t exactly let him all the way in - but like seems like an understatement. Obsessed seems dramatic. Infatuated?

“I don’t know, I like spending time with her, like talking to her, is all,” he shrugs. He likes a lot more than that, but confiding in Quinn after how his last encounter with Jack about the whole thing had gone has his back up, a little. “I feel like she might like me too.”

It’s the first time he’s said it aloud to anyone else. He’s chirped you about it enough - taken note of the various shades of pink he can flush your cheeks when he does, darker and darker as the days go on - but he’s been abiding by your request of staying quiet about any of the specifics.

And it’s been hard. Oversharing is kind of his thing, usually, and keeping information from his brothers isn’t exactly something he loves doing, not when he’s been cursing Jack all summer for doing the same.

“Jack thinks she’s using me. He doesn’t like her.”

“Jack doesn’t like that he can’t beat her. Like he can fire a thousand shots at her and nothing goes in, he isn’t used to that.”

“Oh, but I am?” Luke scoffs, although he isn’t entirely sure if he is offended. “Are you calling me a loser?”

“No, Luke, I’m not calling you a loser.” He chuckles. “It’s like hockey, right, you and me, we chase people down. Don’t give in until we’re caught up and we can disarm someone. That isn’t Jack’s game. He’s usually the one being chased, you know? Usually the one ahead.”

“He’s not that bad on the other side of the blue line,” Luke scoffs, although he gets where his eldest brother is coming from. He hasn’t really thought about it in that context - that you and Jack don’t get along because you’re alike - but it makes sense now that he thinks about it.

“He’s not like you, though. You get some weird thrill out of going after people you have no business going after, you have since you were younger, taking down kids 4 or 5 years older than you and twice the size for fun. Makes sense you’d want someone so far out of your league.”

Luke looks back over to where you’re still stood with Cara, and just manages to catch your eye before you look away, pretending he hadn’t caught you. The smile erupts slowly onto his features, close-lipped and soft, but he feels the joy of it all throughout his body. 

“I think I’m wearing her down.”

Stolen glances across whatever room the two of you happen to be in, smiles that you’ve only ever sent his way, feather-light but purposeful kisses on the corner of his mouth when you think he’s asleep, seeking him out in his bathroom after seeing him with someone else - yeah, he’s getting there.

“Good for you, Luke,” Quinn chuckles, patting his brother on the back, “As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He does. At least he thinks so. 

You feel weird.

It’s the only word you can think to describe the mood you’ve been in for the past week.

Well, weird and off.

You can’t quite put your finger on it, either, but it’s throwing you off your game. 

There had been a second the other day where you had thought you might have gotten to the bottom of things - when you’d come inside from sunbathing with Ellie and had found Luke in his room, packing a bag for his trip to Vegas for some award ceremony he and Quinn were nominated for. 

Clarity had hit you like a brick to the head, panic swirling in your chest at the thought of him being gone for a whole week, but then he’d looked up from where he was perched on the ground, had given you a lopsided grin, and had ushered you over to help - and the speed in which you had started to feel normal again quickly diminished any thoughts of Luke being the cause of your weirdness.

But it has been hard to shake, even as unidentifiable as it may be, and the longer you feel this way, the worse it gets, bubbling up like anxiety that keeps your jaw tight, and your lips pressed together.

It culminates the night of the boys’ party - a celebration of Quinn and Luke’s nominations, and a good luck send-off of sorts that Jack had wanted to throw before they left. 

You had started the night off fine - kind of attached at Luke’s hip, him muttering teasing remarks into your ear about you clinging to him ‘cause you’re gonna miss him when he’s gone, and catching up with a couple of the guys from Michigan. You might have even been having fun at one point, smiling into the red cup Luke had placed in your hand at the beginning of the night that you still hadn’t drained, as you watched him shoot pool and he kept smirking up at you as he leant over the table.

You shouldn’t be feeling anxious when he looks at you like that, but God, do you feel something.

And then your phone starts to buzz in your pocket, and assuming it’s Ellie, who, once again, is away with her family - this time in Europe for a couple of weeks - you pull it out.

But it isn’t Ellie.

It’s your dad.

And the heart that had been thudding in your chest at the mere capture of Luke’s attention just moments ago, is now dropping out of your ass.

It isn’t a call, thank God - you don’t think you could handle that, feeling the way you currently feel - but an email.

Your dad hasn’t called in a while. He rarely texts, either.

This is how it is, now. Emails and Facebook posts you happen to come across, like you’re some distant co-worker or an old family friend.

Not his only daughter. Not the kid he abandoned in search of a better life.

When you open it up, there’s no subject, no body either to the email, just an attachment. 

A family photo, him, his new wife, and their two boys, stood in front of the Eiffel Tower, edited into a postcard that reads, Wish You Were Here!

And resentment bubbles within you.

I could have been, if you’d have invited me.

You shove your phone back into your pocket and do a quick glance around the room to check if anyone might have noticed the tears welling in your eyes, but you’re safe. 

Luke’s attention is on the table, the rest of the boys’ attention is on him, and you slip away before he has the chance to meet your eye - to see straight through you in the way only he knows how, and make your way to the kitchen in the search of something stronger.

When you push your way through the door, whatever weird feeling that has been consuming you for the past week culminates into something bigger.

Something darker, and heavier, and angrier, like a tornado of emotions tearing through your very core, picking up every last bit of restraint on it’s way as your eyes narrow onto it’s next target.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Jack pulls back in a daze from the blonde who’s face he was just suctioned to, brows furrowed as his intoxicated gaze zeroes in on you.

He slurs out your name, glaring like he’s trying to get his eyes to focus before they roll dramatically, and he runs a hand through his messy hair.

“Jesus, what do you want?”

“Maybe for you to have some respect, or is that a little too much to ask?”

“Could you give us a minute?” He asks the girl in front of him, who scowls at you before walking off, shouldering past you to exit the kitchen as you stare Jack down. “Why are you being such a psycho?”

“I’m sick of you messing Ellie around, Hughes, I’m not gonna just stand around and let you play with her heart like she means nothing to you anymore.”

“She’s not even here,” he scoffs, “She won’t find out unless you tell her.”

“And you think I won’t? She’s my friend, Jack, we tell each other everything.”

“Yeah? She tell you how she’s into Cole?”

“No. Because she isn’t.” You’d cleared that up with her a while ago, asking her straight up if something was going on - and she had said no. She wouldn’t lie to you.

“Then why do I keep getting told that she is? Why is everyone seeing them out together all the time? Why is she texting him tonight and not me?”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re making it your mission to stick your tongue down other girls throats all the time. This entire summer, you’ve done nothing but avoid your feelings so much that maybe she thinks you’re not into her. Maybe you need to pull your head out of your ass and talk to her like a grown fucking adult and stop playing stupid games with her heart.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“And you should be fucking listening. If you keep messing her around, you’ll lose her for good,” you threaten, with a jab of a pointed finger into his chest.

Jack looks flushed, cheeks pink, lips puffy, eyes red-rimmed and hair a mess as he looks back at you - and it’s like he’s functioning in slow motion, you can practically see the cogs turning in his inebriated brain as he comes up with some way to jab back, some way to make you hurt the way the thought of Ellie leaving does to him, just to avoid admitting you’re right.

“What, like how you keep messing my brother around?” 

“Excuse me?” You scoff, stepping back when he jabs a finger at you.

“You heard me,” he snarls, “Leading him on like some lovesick puppy while you couldn’t care less about him.”

“Is that what he said?”

“No, funnily enough he won’t even talk to me about you,” Jack’s glare sends a shiver down your spine, one that overrides the buzz of pride at him following your instruction - you know this level of animosity comes from the swirling of intoxication and frustration, he doesn’t actually hate you, the two of you have gotten on somewhat in the past couple of weeks, despite him making out otherwise, but this is different. This makes you feel small, like a speck of something fragile, ready to be stomped and crushed under his irate foot. And it’s not the kind of small you usually like. The kind of small where you compare yourself to the bigger picture. No, this hurts. Aches. Itches in a way that you need to relieve, immediately. “But I bet that’s your doing, because that’s how toxic you are, making it so he can’t even confide in his brother about his feelings. Feelings that you just want to stampede all over like they’re nothing. Break his heart like it’s some kind of sport.”

That isn’t true. 

That’s not who you are.

That’s not what you’re doing, not what you want.

You know how it feels to have someone break your heart like that, you’d never do that to Luke.

“Go fuck yourself, Jack.” Is all you can mutter out in defence of yourself before you’re shouldering past him, barging through the uninterested crowd and stomping out of the kitchen.

You think it’s the need to feel bigger that has you poking your head into every room in search of him - the person who had ingrained the notion of needing to feel bigger to feel better to your memory - only able to find comfort in a mop of messy curls that sits on top of a head higher than the rest. It’s what has you grasping at his hand when you do find him outside on the deck, dragging him wordlessly - and thankfully enough, without protest - back through the rest of his house, and to his room before you push him down onto the bed, instructing him to move up and sit against the headboard before you straddle his lap.

You kiss away his questions, fingers clumsily working at the buttons of his shirt until you can tear it off, swallowing down his confusion into your own mouth as he shrinks into your advances.

When you start to grind down into him is when he gains back some level of consciousness, large hands grasping at your waist and pushing until your lips part with a loud smack. And you’re both breathless, panting against each others mouths as he tries to figure you out, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and swollen lips.

“What’s going on?” He asks, eyes darting around you in concern.

Concern that makes you feel larger than life - makes your chest expand and your heart swell and your lungs fill with so much air that you feel like you might float away. To have someone look at you like that, care about you like that, want you for more than what bare bones you’re offering to him, what everyone else wants you for, it makes you feel gigantic.

Like a hot air balloon, carried to far away lands by the flames of his affections.

And if they shut off, you’ll drop into oblivion. Breaking suddenly from the airy mechanics that keep you afloat, plunging at great speeds until you inevitably hit the earth with an almighty, painful splat.

You never did like falling.

“I want you.”

His face scrunches a little as he thinks - thinks a little too hard for someone who’s been pursuing you all summer - and before he can question it, you reach for the hem of your top, pulling it off until you’re left in just your lacy bra, your skirt riding up as your legs fall to either side of his hips.

It’s the most you’ve ever given him aside from being around him in your bikini and the one time you had changed and he hadn’t turned around quick enough, and before you can feel self conscious about it, you feel his eyes rake down the long expanse of your bare skin.

And the way he looks at you now makes you feel even bigger - a hunger in his eyes that tells you he could spend the rest of his time on earth working his way through every inch of you, savouring whatever parts of you that you’ll let him get a taste of, and he’ll never let you go.

“Please?” You’re already technically on your knees, what harm can begging do if it just makes him do something?

You don’t want to talk about it like you know he’s about to ask, don’t want to have to explain why you sought him out, why, for once, you didn’t care that people might see the two of you holding hands, you marching him to his bedroom and him following like exactly what Jack had said - a lovesick puppy.

You just want him. Want to feel bigger. Want to feel wanted. 

Want to give in to the part of you that has been dying to fold to him all summer, to let him close that gap, to break down the barriers you’ve been desperately guarding.

He cranes his neck to press a sweet kiss to your lips - one lacking the intensity from before, but not the adoration he always manages to pack in there - the kind that twists at your gut until you can’t take it anymore.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him again. “Give me something to hold onto when you’re gone.”

You figure if you use his own words against him - words uttered teasingly, but truthfully, earlier - he’ll give in.

The thought of losing this, of him leaving and finding something better, of distance being wedged between you for the first time all summer and finally giving him clarity, making him see you for what everyone else thinks you are.

Maybe if you give him what he really wants he’ll hold on a little longer.

It’s not like you don’t want it, too.

“You only had the one drink?” He asks, responding with fervour, the pressure of his kiss starting to build. “The one I got you?”

“Didn’t even finish it,” you kiss him again, “Stone cold sober,” and again, fingers trailing between you to work at the button on his jeans, “Want you now.”

“Yeah,” he lifts his hips and helps you pull his pants down, a clumsy shuffle to temporarily part while he wriggles them off, “Want you, too.” He mutters before leaning in to kiss at the corner of your mouth, “Wanted you for so long.”

There’s a voice inside that itches to tell him, I know, but it’s quickly shut up by another - a voice that’s louder, a voice you can’t ignore anymore when it comes to Luke.

A voice that tells you, you know nothing.

[livwritessometimes]

Can you please do a part 2 to “a footnote will do (for me)” with Charles Leclerc?

Perhaps, something like this: She moves on with someone else (one date), and he sees them, gets jealous and chases her. Apologising and grovelling all the way till they make up?

I loved that fix but it was heartbreaking

If The World Was Ending

: Charles Leclerc x Reader

: If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here you go! Hope this heals the heartbreak from part 1 :)

...

I was distracted And in traffic I didn't feel it When the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' Were you out drinkin'? Were you in the living room Chillin' watchin' television

It's funny how life works—why is it that when you're in a rush, you find yourself stuck in endless traffic. Charles let out a sigh; he was exhausted. The past few months had not been the best for him. The season was finally over; he should have been out there relaxing but all Charles could think about was how they lost the constructor's championship. He knows it's not his fault—not entirely, at least—but he couldn't help letting his mind wander. Things had been good for a while; the constant hustle bustle had made his life better. The calm now left him with too much time on his hands to think. It had left him with time to think about his brother's engagement. He still remembers how happy he was the day he got the call from Enzo. It gave him time to think about Arthur—how he got to race with his little brother by his side. That memory brought a smile to Charles' face. It also gave him time to think about Alex; his Alex. Before he could think of anything else, Charles was brought back into reality by his phone ringing. It was her.

"Hey, I was just think-" Charles said before he got cut off by Alex.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice a little panicky.

"What-ya of course, why?" He questioned, confused by her sudden panic.

"We just had an earthquake, did you not feel it?" She questioned.

"Oh...no not really. I'm stuck in traffic, i didn't feel much," Charles answered.

"Oh good! Alright, I'll see you soon, yeah?" She asked.

"Ya, I'll be there in 15, hopefully," Charles said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Charles looked out of the window once again, waiting for the traffic to clear up. As he waited, his mind went to one person—someone who had been on his mind for a while now. He knows he shouldn't think about her, he has a girlfriend and she has a boyfriend—or at least that's what he assumes based on what Arthur had said. Charles had no business thinking about Y/n. It was his fault they drifted apart. Had he not completely ignored Y/n after her confession, they would still be in touch like they used to be, instead of become strangers who only see each other now at big celebrations.

Finally free from the traffic, Charles made his way towards his house. It was a Friday, which got him thinking: Was she out drinking? He wondered if Y/n felt the earthquake. Or was she at home, chilling and watching television with her new boyfriend? As much as he did not want to admit, the thought of that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Which was weird, because Charles was clearly happy with Alex. Why would the though of Y/n being happy with someone else hurt his heart? Not wanting to think further about this, Charles finally got out of his car and headed towards his apartment, to his girlfriend and dog waiting for his arrival.

It's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to let you go and let communication die out

Life was different now for Y/n. She had different goals, and different priorities. It's funny how so much can change in the span of a few months. Y/n had moved to a different house, one that was closer to her best friend, Arthur. She liked this house a lot better than her last; good lighting, a great neighborhood, and living super close to your closest friend—what more could she ask for? However, the real reason why Y/n liked this house so much was that it was in a location far away from him. She wouldn't have to worry about bumping into him every time she'd make a grocery run or go to her favourite coffee shop. Things had been good. She hadn't thought about him in a long time. It's weird how quickly you can go from talking everyday to barely seeing each other at all these days. Y/n preferred it this way. It honestly felt like a year had passed since she'd last seen Charles' face in person. Of course she still saw him on TV, but it just wasn't the same. Y/n even started seeing someone, all thanks to Arthur. This guy was good and clearly into her. It felt nice to finally be wanted. After chasing something for so long with no result, it was refreshing to feel wanted. Y/n figured that if she gave this guy a chance, maybe that would be her ticket to forgetting about Charles. And so far, it had worked. Y/n finally felt like she could move past what had happened between her and Charles. She had finally figured out how to let him go.

I know, you know, we know, You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

Y/n stood in the kitchen, helping out Arthur's girlfriend with the snacks. It had been Arthur's idea to host a game night after watching a couple of reels about college kids hosting annual game night. 'I'm starting a family tradition,' is what he'd said when he invited Y/n and her boyfriend to his house. Rolling her eyes at the memory, she looked at the man in question, laughing at something Y/n's boyfriend had said. Slowly, she trailed her eyes to the left towards, the older Leclerc, only to find him already looking at her. Y/n quickly turned her head and focused on what Jade was talking about. Even though she had moved on, seeing him still felt strange. Every time she looked at Charles, she saw the face of the man she had loved at one point in time. It was also the face of the man who had rejected her. But that's okay now. She had accepted that they weren't meant for each other, even if it was a hard pill to swallow.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant

Hours had passed, and the entire group was now sprawled in different corners of the living room. They had spent the last few hours playing a variety of games, which had led to several heated arguments between the Leclerc brothers. Who would have thought they could get so competitive over board games? The night slowly died down and Enzo was the first one to leave. Arthur had dragged Y/n's boyfriend into a different room to show him something she didn't care enough to pay attention to. Making her way outside, she could see Alex and Jade in the kitchen cleaning up the aftermath of such intense game night. As she stared outside, she felt a presence next to her, followed by a soft, 'Hey'. Turning slightly towards the sound, she found Charles standing next to her, staring at the sky. "Hey," she murmured, glancing back ahead. "It's been a while...," said Charles, his gaze fixed on her. "It has. How have you been?" Y/n asked, keeping her eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact. "I've been good, I think," Charles said, his voice a bit uncertain. "How have you been? I see you're dating someone new now," He added, a hint of bitterness laced in his tone. Turning to face him, Y/n said, "Yeah, I have. He's a good guy. In fact, Arthur was the one who introduced us." Charles felt betrayed. How could he not, his own brother was responsible for this. "How is Alex? Oh, and how can I forget about little Leo?" She added. Upon her question, Charles glanced towards the kitchen where Alex was laughing at something Jade had said. He should feel happy—he has a girlfriend who loves him; he should be over the moon. Yet, for some reason, his mind wandered back to the lady in front of him. He could see the sincerity in her eyes—it was the same as when she had first offered him a lift to Arthur's party. The moon cast a soft glow on her face, and it took everything in Charles to not reach out and caress her cheek. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Charles, waiting for him to answer her. "Oh, yeah, things have been good. They're good," Charles said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good," Y/n replied, watching as her boyfriend make his way into the living room. "Well, that's my cue. I should get going. It's—it's been nice catching up after such a long time," Y/n smiled at him as she walked into the living room towards her boyfriend. Charles stood there for a moment, watching her leave with her boyfriend. Glancing back at the sky, he muttered to himself, "Good...but not the same without you."

I tried to imagine Your reaction It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' The night we went drinkin' Stumbled in the house And didn't make it past the kitchen

Y/n slowly made her way to the bathroom, taking off one earring at a time. She felt her boyfriend press a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading off to change his clothes. Staring at the mirror in front of her, she let out a sigh. Tonight was harder than Y/n had expected. Seeing him again shook the very foundation she had spent months building. It baffled her how Charles still held so much power over her. Talking to Charles after such a long time brought back so many memories, but one in particular stood out. She wasn't sure if it was the starry night that had reminded her of that day, or if simply being in Charles' presence had sparked that memory.

*flashback*

It was after a particularly rough Grand Prix that Y/n and Charles found themselves getting absolutely wasted. It was a quiet bar near Y/n's house, one that didn't have many visitors—especially considering it was 3 a.m. Slowly getting up, Y/n stumbled, losing her footing. She fully expected to smack the floor when a strong pair of arms broke her fall and steadied her. "It's okay, I've got you," Charles said as he led her out of the bar towards her house, not once letting go of her. It took them exactly 8 minutes to get the lock to Y/n's door. She remembers it because that's how long Charles kept on hugging her, leaning into her for 'moral support,' as he liked to call it. Slowly the two stumbled into her house. As they walked inside, Charles lost his footing and fell to the floor, pulling a drunk Y/n down with him. Worried, Charles quickly sat up, looking at Y/n to check if she was alright. His worry soon eased as the room was filled with Y/n's laughter. Seeing her laugh, Charles couldn't help but join in. He laid back down besides her, still smiling. "I love you Y/n/n," said Charles as he pulled her in for a hug. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n instantly sobered up when she heard him say those three words. There lay a drunk Charles, happily snuggling with what he assumed to be a drunk Y/n, forgetting about all the worries in the world and just being content lying there with her. Alternatively, there lay Y/n in the arms of the boy she realized she saw as much more than 'just a friend,' thinking if the world were to end tomorrow, she'd be happy to die like this—in his arms.

*present*

Finishing the last step of her nighttime routine, Y/n made her way to her bed, into the arms of her boyfriend. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't think like this. But one thought lingered in her mind—It's not the same.

Ah. it's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out

The drive back home was a silent one for Charles and Alex. For the first time in a long time, Charles felt happy. Not once did he think about racing or losing the championship. Not once did the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind for months resurface. He'd like to think it was because of the game night, but no matter how much he wanted that to be true, he knew that wasn't the reason for this happiness. It made him wonder if he had made a mistake—getting together with Alex so quickly, adding Leo into the mix. It made him wonder what would have happened if he had given her a chance, if only he had waited to see how things might play out. Charles thought he had matured. He figured it had been months now, it wouldn't affect him as much. But he was wrong. Even now, after all this time, thinking about her, about them, still breaks his heart.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine If the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over, right? You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

Charles just couldn't fall asleep. No matter how hard he tried, he lay there, in his bed, wide awake. He looked to his side to find Alex passed out with Leo by her feet. As much as he hated to admit, he did not find the sight as comforting as he used to. Looking back at the ceiling, Charles could not bear to let his thoughts run wild for another second. Quickly, he got up and changed into his tracks. He figured a jog would help calm his mind down. And so, that's what he did: he grabbed his keys and made his way out of the house at 2 a.m. for a late-night run.

The second Charles stepped onto the street, he ran. He ran for as long as his feet could take him. After running for what felt like hours, Charles stopped by a park. He took a moment to look at his surroundings and realized he was far away from his neighborhood. Instead, he realized he was much closer to the place he had just come home from a few hours ago—he was near Arthur's neighborhood. Making his way inside the park, Charles spotted someone sitting on one of the benches. As he walked closer, he realized that it was the one person he wanted to get out of his mind. "Y/n?" said Charles in a confused tone. Looking up at the sound, Y/n came face to face with Charles. "Charles! What are you doing here?" She asked, confused by his sudden presence. "I could ask you the same," he paused to look at his watch before continuing, "That too, at 3 a.m.?" Not knowing what to say, Y/n scooted a little, inviting the boy to take a seat next to her. "I couldn't sleep," she said in a quiet voice. For a while, neither of them said anything. The two sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently?" Charles questioned, breaking the silence. "Huh? Differently, how?" Y/n asked, confused about what the boy in front of her was getting at. Charles knows he shouldn't say it, but he couldn't help himself. In his mind, it was either now or never. "Do you ever wonder if things would have been different, had I—had we, um..." Charles hesitated. "Had we what, Charles?" Y/n asked, now turned, giving him her full attention. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Had we gotten together? Had I reacted differently to your confession? Do you think things would have been different then?" Stunned at his question, Y/n was taken aback. "I don't see the point in bringing this up now, Charles. It doesn't matter anyways," she said, slowly turned away from the boy. In an instant, Charles grabbed her hands, stopping her. "It matters to me, Y/n, please," he pleaded. "I don't know, Charles...I don't know, maybe?" Y/n said. Letting out a sigh, she continued, "Why now, though? Why now, when I have a boyfriend and you have a girlfriend...and a DOG, for fuck's sake." Y/n suddenly felt anger towards the boy. Why was he having these doubts all of a sudden? And why now, of all times? She had finally gotten used to living without constantly having him in the back of her mind. So why now? "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm aware of how wrong all of this is? I tried to forget you. I tried really hard to forget every single thing about you, and for a while, it worked. I was happy; I was so happy with Alex, and then we got Leo. I felt complete...but it only lasted for a while. Every time I had a bad day, you were the first person I thought about calling. Every time I won a race or got a podium, your eyes were the ones I searched for as soon as I got up there. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I enjoyed breaking your heart back then? I hated myself for the way I reacted," Charles said, finally letting go of every single thing he had been holding onto for such a long time. "WELL THEN WHY DID YOU REACT THAT WAY?" Y/n said, losing her cool after Charles' outburst. "I—I don't know," he said, ashamed of the way he handled things. "I just assumed, if we became a couple, things wouldn't work out, because let's be honest I know my luck—they never do, and then we break up. So, I not only lose you, I also lose a bond that I held so close to my heart," he continued. Y/n was at a loss for words. It felt like a fever dream. All she wanted was for Charles to want her. And now that he did, she wasn't sure what to do. Somehow, amidst all this chaos, Y/n's mind drifted to Alex. She wondered if Alex was aware of this, If she had her doubts. She thought about how happy Alex looked earlier today. Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n got up. "Charles...I'm sorry but we can't—I can't do this. Think about Alex. How can you do this to her? I have a boyfriend now, and for once, I don't have to hope that he feels the same way I do. For once, I don't have to doubt the feelings that we share—whether they're real or not. I'm sorry, but there will never be an 'us,'" Y/n said as she started to walk towards her apartment.

"You said 'feelings.' Does that mean you don't love him?" Charles questioned. Turning back to look at the boy, who was now standing as well, "What?" Y/n asked. "You just said 'the feelings you share,' and not love. Does that mean you don't love him? Is it because, deep down, you know, you still love me?" Charles questioned, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, Charles," Y/n said as she walked away, leaving Charles all alone in the middle of the park.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you, know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

The next time Y/n heard about Charles was a few months later. She had decided to spend the day with Arthur and Jade. The trio had spent the majority of their day lounging and watching movies. As the day progressed, they slowly got comfortable on the couch and started to talk about a variety of things, with a glass of wine in hand. Somewhere in between, the conversation about Enzo and Charlotte's wedding came up. "Hey Y/n/n, do you have a date in mind?" Jade asked. Y/n had broken up with her boyfriend not long after that night in the park with Charles. Arthur gave Y/n a sad smile. He knew about Y/n's crush, and Charles' rejection. He also knew about that night in the park. "Umm...not really, I don't have anyone particular in mind," said Y/n with a little hesitation. "Ahh, you know what? why don't you go with Charles? I always thought you two would make a cute pair," said Jade as she got up to get some more snacks. Upon hearing this, Y/n shot Arthur a look. "What?" she asked. Taking a sip of his drink, Arthur said, "He broke up with her." He continued, "He broke up with her a while ago...A few weeks after the park incident." Y/n didn't know how to react. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to feel guilty over their breakup," said Arthur. A soft 'Oh' was all Y/n could mutter. "Just know it's not your fault. He chose to break up with her. This has nothing to do with you," said Arthur. Getting up to go get another bottle, he turned around and said, "I know things are complicated between the two of you, but for what it's worth, don't let this guilt stop you from going after what you want. That is, if that's what you still want." With that Arthur left Y/n alone with her thoughts.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant If the world was ending You'd come over, right?

Everything about tonight was perfect—the lights, the decoration, the location; it was all perfect. Y/n felt honored when Charlotte had asked her to be one of her bridesmaids. She still remembers how she could not stop crying and how it took both Enzo and Charlotte to calm her down. Standing in front of her was Enzo, a man Y/n considered to be her older brother, looking as handsome as ever. Locking eyes with her, Enzo smiled at Y/n. 'You've got this,' she mouthed to him. Diverting her eyes, Y/n made eye contact with him. Standing tall in an expensive suit was none other than Enzo's younger brother, Charles. The two had not spoken even once since that night—not when they arrived at the wedding location, not at the family dinner, and not even when they walked down the aisle together as the groomsman and bridesmaid. It was clear that Charles wanted to talk to her. He made many attempts to convey that. Y/n, however, wasn't ready to have that talk. Doing so would mean the two would have to come face-to-face with the fact that they unintentionally sabotaged their relationships for each other—something Y/n was not ready to accept.

The ceremony was beautiful. Y/n even shed a few tears at the couple's vow's. It was finally time for their reception. As everyone was making their way to reception venue, Y/n was pulled into the corner by someone. Before she could say anything, she heard "Shh, It's me," and then the owner of that voice came in view. "Charles," she said, although her voice came muffled under Charles' hand. Smiling at her, he said, "I wanted to talk to you, which I think you have noticed by now, considering you suddenly vanish the moment I make my way towards you." Removing his hand from over her mouth, Y/n said, "What do you want Charles?" "Isn't it obvious by now? I want you, Y/n. I know what I said in the park was stupid and selfish. I shouldn't have unloaded my feeling onto you like that. I know I should have figured things out for myself before I did anything. And I've learned it the hard way. I know I hurt a lot of people in the process, and I genuinely regret that. If I could go back in time and reverse things, I would. But you also have to know I have never been more sure about anything else in my life than I am about you since that night in the park. I love you, and I have loved you ever since I met you. I want to be the person you call after a long day, the one you think about every time something good happens in your life. Most of all, I want to be the one you think about, no matter what," said Charles, holding nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Y/n let out a few tears she didn't know she had been holding in. "How are you so sure things will work out? How do you know we're not going to wake up in a year or two's time and realize how big of a mistake this was? And how things would have been better had we let them be just the way they were? How?" Y/n questioned Charles. "I don't, and I can't be sure that this will work out," said Charles. Taking a step forward, he held onto Y/n's hand before continuing, "But I know that you're worth the risk. I had to learn it the long way," he said with a smirk, upon which Y/n smacked his arm. "Charles!" she said in a tone of warning. "I'm sorry, mon amour, but you should know, if the world was going to end tomorrow, you'd be the only person I would want to spend the night with. No matter what happens I want you, Y/n. You're worth the risk," said Charles.

No, there wouldn't be a reason why We would even have to say goodbye

"Are you sure about this, Charles," said Y/n as she looked at him. "I'm more than sure, mon amour," said Charles, his eyes gleaming with nothing but sincerity and love. And so Y/n nodded her head. "Yes," she said as she looked at the boy kneeling in front of her. Jumping up in joy, Charles let out a scream, "She said yes!" All of a sudden, their friends and family came out from where they were hiding, all excited to congratulate the couple on their engagement. Y/n was pulled into an embrace by none other than her best friend, "You knew, didn't you?" she asked. "Of course I knew, who do you think helped him pick out that ring," said Arthur, still hugging her. "I'm happy for you," he said as he pulled away. "Me too," Y/n said smiling up at him.

As Y/n looked at Charles, she knew no matter her fears and doubts, she would never regret this decision—ever.

...

[mistressflorence32]

A Year of Chastity… 2025

Over the last 16 months before 2025 my slave boy had to complete a year of chastity, with many breaks in between. Didn’t matter if it wasn’t all in one go, he just had to complete the year. This was the first phase of his chastity training, to have completed a total year. He completed this phase on October 5th, but was extended to accommodate for Locktober, and whilst I occasionally let him out for edging and teasing he was locked through November to make No Nut November easier, and more fun for me.

So on December 1st 2024 he was finally freed from chastity. That month I spent a lot of time on his cock, using him like the dildo he is. He consented to being woken up with handjobs and blowjobs. For that time of our relationship whilst I still held complete and utter dominance he was finally getting fucked within an inch of his life, something that hadn’t happened for ages.

But sadly this couldn’t last long, as he was aware it’s been in my interests for ages to fast track phase two, as soon as he is ready. It was on Christmas Day he confirmed he was ready, and the thought of going back into chastity scared him but he admitted a long time ago to himself that would always be his fate. The plan was always that my slave boy would end 2024 unlocked, and enter the next phase of chastity training in 2025.

This phase is a more concrete productive version of his recent sentence. Phase two is to complete a full year in chastity. Only this time there will be no breaks. It will be removed by me for hygiene only, and he will spend all 365 days of 2025 locked. Based on past experience the chances of there being any medical issues is very slim.

Cumming will technically be possible and allowed, but I can’t imagine it will be very pleasant for him. The usual method for making my slave cum in chastity has never failed me though. It puts him firmly in his place, gets those pesky balls drained but leaves him ruined of a true orgasm.

First, to make sure he’s properly humbled and humiliated I get him dressed up in some feminine sissy clothes. It’s not something I’m usually into but I have a friend from my time as a prodomme who has a sissy slave. She has all sorts of wonderful frilly dresses, heels and stockings. I borrow a few and get my slave (who’s usually quite proud of his masculinity) nicely dressed up in them.

I then get him put on his hands and knees, skirt hiked up and a fuck machine pointed at his ass. Usually I stick a wine glass under his cock too, something for him to dribble into. I start up the machine and it fucks the poor sissy, until the anal orgasm is enough to make his cock squirt out all of its cum, but not enough to grant a satisfying orgasm. We top it off with his sissified self drinking his sperm, and that’s how he gets to cum in chastity.

Luckily extensive prior chastity training has meant he’s conquered certain issues like hardness in chastity being too painful for him. Now it’s something he can work past. For Christmas one of my slave’s presents is a new, slightly smaller steel cage. I’ve taken great pride over the last few years of slowly downsizing my slave’s size. When we first met he was a well endowed 8 inches hard, and 4 inches soft.

It seems his size when soft is more eager to shrink, with it mostly being the same size when hard. But I am still seeing progress and that is what’s key. The end goal for my slave is a cage that cannot be more than 2 inches long, connected through the help of a Prince Albert piercing, and a permanent urethral sounding fixture. But once again, that’s for the far future.

For now his new cage is 3.5 inches and has some soft bumps on the inside, just to give it some texture if he decides to get hard. Which will probably be quite often as that’s another change to this second chastity sentence; teasing. I was never that extreme about it before, but I will definitely be now! Life without a live dildo to play around with can get boring, I’ll need to stay entertained somehow. And I think wearing revealing clothing inside and outside of the house, as well as shamelessly flirting with other men as if he’s not right there, is a brilliant start to teasing him!

Chances are you’re reading this just ahead of New Years. It’s been a fun few days, me and my slave getting as much sex as the two of us can handle before his (admittedly talented) cock is locked back up into chastity for twelve months! His last erect orgasm for the next year will take place right before midnight. His cock will get iced and put back into its cage.

Overall I think this will be a positive time for my slave. He’s been trained to handle extensive chastity periods, and this will extend those periods but I am sure it will still be bearable. He will be kept firmly in his place, and both of us will get a better feel of permanent femdom. It’s something I’ve experienced before, but he hasn’t.

A year in chastity will be the final kick for him to realise this is all real. I’m looking forward to that realisation, but I know it won’t cause him to back out. He’s a good boy, with his kinks and limits. He knows how far is too far, and we both agree this is the correct next step on a journey to permanent slavery and chastity.

[vamptarot]

Hello! I am sorry for the mis-use of tags, I will delete this post as soon as I see fit! 🩷 Unfortunately, this is a cry for help.

While I understand this could be annoying, bothersome or just plain up irritating for you to see for me it is an act of bravery because I hate asking for help, it is uncomfortable and makes me anxious. This blog was never intended to be a place for me to do this, but this is quite literally my last resort.

I have tried posting pick a cards first and just wait for people to be interested, and I tried to work my other job to the best of my abilities as well but I am simply struggling more than I thought I would. I am a bit more slow than I thought.

Unfortunately, both of my wrists are injured, fractured. I have other injuries as well, but those are the ones that make me struggle with work the most.

I have been beaten twice in a short amount of time due to having a relative that is unfortunately addicted to substances. (I am sorry, I couldn’t word it in a better way.) I am a small person, I cannot defend myself well, especially not against someone twice my size. Because of the injuries this caused my bills keep piling up, so is the treatment I need. It’s nothing serious, but to me 1200£ is a lot of money that I am struggling to make.

I am NOT asking for donations at all. But, if anyone wishes to buy any paid readings from me I would appreciate it a lot. It’s okay if you don’t want to help, but for those who wish to, I offer ‘pay what you can’ option. I am also willing to offer 2 free readings each month for the entirety of 2025 if you donate and wish to take up on the offer! I am also fine with any readings, it doesn’t have to be any from my listed one, so if you have anything unique you wish for me to read on I will gladly do it, I don’t discriminate! :)

I don’t feel comfortable sharing a link publicly, but you can always DM me! 🩷 I am a bit anxious and ashamed, so I will likely go off for a few hours after posting this, but I will get back to you as soon as I can!

[jollyhunter]

Beau!Dean x hunter!reader - The Broken Circle

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! ♡

Characters: (mostly) Beau Arlen / (flashbacks, for now) Dean Winchester x hunter!reader, also Denise and Cassie AU: "Supernatural" x "Big Sky" crossover, set after S15 of SPN

One Shot (???)

Warnings: - Major MC death mentioned (end of SPN spoiler), implied panic attack, angst and just buckets of tears (I'm coping with a certain someone's death here) - No use of Y/N - English is not my native language

Words: ~4,050

Setup: "Winchester" - That's the name you applied with at the police department, when you started a new life in Big Sky, Montana, 4 years ago. It's your deceased husband's name. Or rather, meant-to-be husband, since Dean died 2 weeks before he got to propose to you. Today you return from your one month time-out. But a lot has changed since you went to visit Sam; You've got a new sheriff.

And he's the same man you thought you'd never see again.

The Broken Circle

Cold.

In one word, that's your last memory of when you gingerly cupped Dean’s face. How your tender fingers caressed his bruised cheeks and wiped away the dirt from his battered skin. Shakily combed out the rubble from his damp brown hair and scrubbed the dry blood off his fingers.

The last time you squeezed Dean's lifeless hand before it slipped from your trembling fingers. Cold and busted lips scraped against yours when you gently kissed him goodbye for the last time in this life.

...Or so you hoped. Who knew what heaven had in stock for you two.

You just wished you could have been there, in that damn barn. Been with him in his last minutes. Could have held his hand next to Sam. Could have told him how much you loved him. Reassure him that you'd give up the hunting life like you both had planned. That you'd try and live a good life for him... and that you were sure you'd see each other again.

But instead you had to take leave of Dean's lifeless body. Hollow. Drained of everything that made him the man you loved and had planned to spend the rest of your life with.

Dean gave his life for so many innocent people – hell, for the entire world. But he never got to have his own life. Never got to live it the way he wished to.

It just seemed so damn unfair. You had so much planned for your future. Have yourself some rug rats, a dog maybe, a house, a garden with those ridiculous white picket fences. You’d live a cherry pie life once you’d leave the hunting life behind you.

Or so you liked to picture it in your heads. On those rare, peaceful nights where you'd rest in each others arms like an old couple. His fingers combing your hair while your thumb carefully stroked his battered knuckles. Whispers of daring dreams filling the silence.

But reality was cold. Bloody. Like an animal put down. With a last effort, put to rest on his bed in the bunker by Sam and you.

This image will haunt you for the rest of your life, you know it. It already did for the past 5 years. If only you could have —

"Winchester?"

You blink rapidly, your mind thrown off for a moment when you snap out of your spiraling thoughts.

Denise waves with a paper in front of you to get your attention back. "She was mutilated. And it wasn't a bear. Her heart had been cut out."

"Jesus," Cassie breathes with a look of shock and disgust, shifting uncomfortably next to you.

"Yeah," Denise's face grimaces into a painful one. Her eyes are darting from Cassie, down to the report and back up to your still slightly absent gaze. "What do you make of it, Winchester?"

"Sounds like a werewolf." Damn it. The words slipped your lips before you could fully snap out of your memories. “I mean, sounds like a bit far-fetched but I’ll let Sheriff Tubbs know.” You force a wry smile when you grab the piece of paper from Denise’s hands, ready to head out of this messed up conversation.

“Sheriff Arlen,” Cassie calls after you and you stop in your tracks to look back at them with arched eyebrows.

“Sheriff who?” You inquire with a puzzled look. How the hell could you have missed this much in just one month off duty?

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” Cassie repeats and Denise quickly adds with a teasing hum, “And his ass is just- mmmh-” she makes a chef’s kiss hand gesture while Cassie rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle.

You let out a huff in mock-annoyance but can’t help the faint grin on your face. Maybe, one day you’d dare to befriend them. Maybe, whenever you’d feel ready for letting people into your life again. But not today.

Ready to pick up your work at the police department, your eyes immediately land on the new name on what used to be Sheriff Tubbs office. ‘Sheriff Beau Arlen’ is written in an arched, golden text across the door’s glass.

You raise a sceptical eyebrow at the name. “Beau” you spit out the name under your breath, already feeling a distaste for this new sheriff.

In your defence, it wasn’t personal. It is just in your nature to feel sceptical towards anything new, especially people. Perhaps you gave up your hunting life. But any hunter will tell you between a swig of whiskey and a loaded shotgun that you’ll never lose your hunter instincts, no matter how hard you try. That’s not how it works. You don’t end this business by walking out the door.

It ends you.

In some way you were like trained bloodhounds. Always one chase away of your next kill. Unable to ignore the smell of blood. You were painfully aware of that fact. You could never live a fully normal life without the occasional hunch or a nervous look over your shoulder.

But you’d learned to accept it and make the best of it.

Here you can still help people. Save people. And once in a while nudge the sheriff into the right direction when you suspected something more than a suicide. Or you’d discreetly plant anti-possession charms on people when you had a hunch that demons were involved in a case.

Yet Sam believes you had retired fully from hunting like he did. And you liked to belief so, too. But on some days you weren’t so sure whether you even wanted to.

In some twisted way, hunting will always connect you with Dean. And at the same time it pains you, like a slow poison. Because you know it’s what he hated and never wanted for you.

And what took him from you.

It is a walk on a tight rope, really.

With a little huff of defiance you push the door to the sheriff’s office open. Your eyes dart around the empty room as you lean slightly forward, “Sheriff Arlen?”

Nothing. Oh well. With a quick glance over your shoulder you decide to take the chance and just drop off the report. You step inside, your fingers tracing the edge of the paper as your mind is instinctively drawn back to the case. I’ll have to look into this… bloody werewolf —

“Ah, Deputy Winchester, ain’t it?”

You freeze in mid motion.

And so does time. The paper slowly slides from between your trembling fingers and flutters to the floor. The unmistakable voice jolting through your mind and body like a lightning bolt. Your breath is caught in your throat, your mind and body paralysed.

The world holds its breath.

This is impossible.

“...Winchester, innit?” he repeats as he steps into the office and casually walks up to you, a wide smile spread across his face.

It can’t – NO.

You don’t dare to turn around.

Not that your body would be capable of any movement anyway. Every muscle is tense, your spine’s gone completely rigid. And your heart’s hammering against your ribs like it’ll crack your chest open from the inside.

You stand there like a deer caught in headlights. Headlights of a ‘67 Chevy Impala called Baby.

It has to be my imagination.

“Ya got somethin’ for me there? Oh-” You feel his elbow briefly brush your side as he bends down to pick up the paper next to your foot.

You don’t move an inch and stare ahead.

He straightens up again and steps around you to place it down on his desk. When he finally moves into your view and turns around to face you with his warm smile – your heart stops.

Emerald green eyes look back at you. Deep and sparkling green oceans. Alive.

Your brain freezes. Your mind scrambling for an explanation but failing to come up with anything.

This can’t be.

After a moment of tense silence, the tremors of your bottom lip make way for what your mind refuses to believe in.

“Dean?”

His name slips you in a mere breathless murmur. Afraid that whatever this is, will shatter the moment you dare to breath again.

Beau raises a brow. “Dean?”

He repeats the name with such nonchalance, such valuelessness, like it’s just some random clerk who he’s got no business with. As if that name didn’t mean the world to you once. Still would. Still does.

But the way his name dropped from his lips…

It clogs your airways. And the question mark at the end was him ramming a dagger into your heart and twisting it, without him even realising.

“Uh, no ain’t that.” He gently shakes his head and his lips melt into a cheeky smile as if that would make his next words any less painful.

“I’m Beau.”

Silence. Once again you feel like the air’s sucked out of your lungs. Like someone had pushed you off a cliff.

Someone who is an imposter of your deceased husband.

Beau. Your jaw clenches. And the name bounces off your mind. Your initial reaction being immediate rejection. No, you’re not... Beau.

Your eyes flicker across the man in front of you.

He might look quite… changed. He’s got a beard, neatly trimmed even. His hair is longer and… soft. Gone was the rugged and calloused man you loved. But it is still him. His eyes with their hidden secrets lingering behind those intense glinting, emerald green pools. His bow legs you’d recognize out of a hundred. His voice, his features, his – everything. Everything on him seems much softer but still… in your eyes, it’s Dean. No doubt.

“Why are ya lookin’ like you saw a ghost?” Beau questions with a tilt of his head, leaning back against the edge of his desk.

His voice snaps you out of your intense gaze. Your mouth opens, but no words make it past your quivering lips. All words drowned out in a flood of a million questions. Your focus drifts off, your eyes darting around the office like you’re expecting Gabriel to pop up any second and laugh at you.

But the room stays reduced to the two of you.

You feel like you’re on a tipping point.

Hands clenched, one subtly moves back to your hidden silver dagger – you do what you were trained to do in situations like these; Your mind grips for the lifeline and kicks into hunter mode. You rattle off the list of possible monsters; Shapeshifter? Ghoul? Am I dreaming? Is it some sick game of a trickster God? —

“Darlin’? You alright?” he asks, his voice now more concerned. You look terrified. As pale as a sheet, the blood drained from your face. Close to a panic attack, he guesses by your rapid breaths. Beau reaches out with his hand, gently patting your arm to get your attention. “Hey… Easy, just breathe.”

At his touch you jolt and finally snap out of your state of shock. The hand hovering over the concealed weapon falters. His worried eyes lock with yours.

The life-line snaps. Your mind tips over. Enough to make your stomach twist and turn, about to throw up. With only one shared look, everything’s back; The pain, the poignant grief, the cold skin under your fingertips, Dean’s lifeless expression, emerald eyes gone dull, the stench of decay, of old blood and dirt and his burning flesh and-- it all crashes down on you. All the emotions and memories you had buried in the depths of your mind, now laid open.

Fresh and hungry. Slowly swallowing you whole. Again.

“I- I don’t feel so… good – sorry,” you sputter, your hand clutching your chest in an effort to keep it together. The same second you spin around on your heels and storm out of the office without looking back once.

Beau. His mere presence was suffocating.

You remember the moment you and Sam cleaned up Dean’s lifeless body. How your fingers brushed against a folded paper, carefully tucked away in his jacket’s inside pocket.

Sam’s face had contorted the moment you pulled it out. Clearly, he had known what secret the paper held and before you got to question his knowing look, he suddenly got up. While walking out, he said he’d give you some time alone with his brother.

Once you unfolded the notepaper halfway, your breath stopped. Your eyes slowly shifted from one scribbled word to the next, each of them hitting harder than the next, each of them taking more of your breath. You swallowed past the lump in your throat when the realization of what you’d been holding in your hand slowly set in.

They were notes of Dean. Notes for your upcoming anniversary in two weeks.

You unfolded the rest of it and your eyes widened. The paper began to crumple in your shaking hands while wet stains swallowed some of his jotted down keywords. When your burning eyes reached the last four words, it had felt like whatever was left of your broken heart had just been ripped out entirely.

The raw emotions rolled down your cheeks, your tears mixing with his last unspoken words…

“Will you marry me?”

Beau was left back staring at the slammed door in bewilderment and a little stunned. After a moment, he sighs and pushes off the desk to follow after you.

“Winchester!” He calls down the corridor, watching you stumble out the front door into the outside. He jogs after you, slightly panting, while his eyes dart around the parking lot in search for you.

The rain crashes down on him the moment he steps outside. His head briefly tilts up to face the grey sky with an annoyed groan. The raindrops are pattering against his creased forehead, running down his cheeks to pool at the tip of his beard.

But then he hears a muffled sniffle next to him. Strands of his soaked hair fall into his face when he whirls his head around, spotting you leaned against the wall.

“No- no – it can’t be you – Damn it – it can’t…” you mutter under your rapid breaths, somehow trying to fight your scrunched up, stinging eyes with words of common sense. Your chest feels constricted. Your heart’s hammering in your ears and your breath’s clipped, feeling like you might faint any moment of lack of oxygen.

Leaning back against the wet wall for some support, your mind’s on the brink of a breakdown. There’s no explanation for this. This can’t be happening.

Beau suddenly appears in front of you and before you get to react, he places a hand on your shoulder. You flinch but don’t pull away. His hand feels heavy against your soaked jacket, grounding, gentle – but casual, like you would with a stranger. You are strangers.

“Hey, hey take it easy. You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack. You’ll be okay.” He says as he crouches down to your level. He glances over your trembling body and how your eyes try to avoid his, your expression like you’d just witnessed a murder in slow-motion.

“Look at me, deep breaths.” Beau speaks in a firmer, yet gentle tone, trying to break through your panicked state.

When you refuse to look up, he tilts his head down to meet your eyes behind some soaked stray hair that sticks to your skin. He pushes them out of your face, his intense gaze searching your contorted face for some form of hint for what’s got you so spooked.

He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. While his soothing words just keep coming, his voice now a lower whisper as he’s desperately trying to understand what is going on in that head of yours, “Hey, c’mon… talk to me, Winchester…”

Your eyes are burning from the tears that have been building up until now. Eyelashes heavy and clumped together by the droplets of the rain. And his intense eyes staring into yours, the very same eyes you fell in love with over 10 years ago, do nothing to ease your pain.

You try to tear your gaze away from his, but find yourself caught in them. It’s like you’re staring into a beautiful forest after years of living in a desert. They pull you in, and you feel like you are right back where you’d always longed to be. Home.

But a home that isn’t yours any more. The soul behind those eyes looks familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. You thought you’d never see those eyes again – but those very same eyes hold no memory of you.

The same question keeps repeating in your head, ripping at your heart and soul like a Hellhound.

Dean… is this you?

His voice cuts through your thoughts like a soft knife. “Take deep breaths darlin’, it’s oka-”

“Please- just-” you cut him short, a painful, shaky breath rippling through your voice, “Just stop talking.” Beau’s voice is like a dagger to your heart, twisting it whenever he speaks up. Mocking your memories with that uncanny tone of his.

I’m just tired. You hear Dean’s voice in your head and just like him, you wished you didn’t feel a damn thing.

Beau raises a brow and tilts his head forward, studying your face. For a moment he opens his mouth about to speak again, but when he sees you flinch, he forces himself to shut it closed.

His jaw’s clenched from fighting the urge to talk and feeling a bit overwhelmed with the entire situation. Not knowing where to go with himself or what to do without making things worse. He isn’t sure what it is, but something about you tugs at his heart in a way he can’t quite understand. But he quickly dismisses it, for now.

His eyes snap up to the sky when the rain starts to increase. Heavy drops splatter off the both of you, coaxing a single tear to let go of the corner of your eye. It was like the sky cried for you. Eyes that parched exactly 5 years ago.

Without a word he moves closer, gently wrapping his free arm around your waist. But you stop him before his palm touches your side. Your hand's shaking as it clings to his wrist like a lifeline.

Beau’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t comment on it. His expression grows pensive and his eyebrows slightly furrow, watching your trembling form. Your chest's heaving heavily, like you’re struggling for air. And your eyes are out of focus, like they're reliving some nightmare.

He suddenly feels a strong protectiveness - decides to hold himself back, though, afraid he might make things worse. But it pains him terribly to see you this way, even if he might not know you, yet.

You don’t say anything. Unable to form the right words as nothing could express the storm of contradicting emotions you are trapped in. The wavering grip on his arm is clenching and unclenching subtly as if unsure whether you want to push him away or pull him in.

“Sorry,” you finally croak between shuddering breaths, unsure what you were even apologizing for, “I’m sorry…”

Why were you apologizing? A strange feeling settles in his guts, one of this being a lot bigger than he could comprehend.

Next moment you know, you’re pulled into a tight hug. Both his arms wrapping around you to pull you close and hold you together.

At first you stiffen. Standing there like a fragile, shaking tree. Your arms pressed against your sides, unable to comprehend any more what is happening.

But he keeps you in his embrace, murmuring soothing words, muffled by your hair and the heavy rain. You lift your head slightly, just enough for your wavering eyes to meet his again.

That’s when the realization hits you. He looks so whole. So unbroken. His skin and his hair was smooth and tender beneath that thin layer of rain. He lacks any form of scar, any edges or any memory of the horrors you and he had faced and committed. Your heart twists; This isn’t what a scarred hunter looks like. And at the same time you feel your heart sink at the next conclusion… Beau would have been Dean’s idea of a perfect life, without ever having been born into the hunting business.

And it makes you wonder whether he was granted that alternate life.

Beau feels your trembling body against him and how your gaze is searching his face for something he doesn't know. Why are you looking at him like that? A lump forms in his throat. His hand gently caresses your back in a circle motion, while his other keeps stroking your hair.

“It’s alright, s’okay. You’re okay.” Beau says in a soothing, comforting tone and he tugs you a little closer, allowing you to rest against him.

Your wet hair falls into your face once more when your head drops to his chest. You both stay still, the only sound being the pitter-patter from the raindrops against the hood of his truck and the puddles around you. Your ragged breath’s nearly drowned out by the rain. The world seems to have shrunk to the beat of his heart softly thudding against your ear.

And that breaks the dam. Tears it down as the floods of emotions search their way out. Your shoulders rise and buckle against his chest. The tears finally break free, streaming down your face, mixing with the rain soaking your clothings. Your body wracked with sobs – raw, desperate, painful. Liberating.

You begin to shake uncontrollably, the sobs growing more and more powerful. They start to rack through every fibre of your body. Your legs grow unsteady beneath you, daring to crumble from the weight of every emotion you had buried in the past 5 years released and unloading all at once.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll stay right here as long as ya need me to. C’mere…” He reassures you, and pulls you even closer. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, his facial hair brushing against your scalp and his warm breath wafting down at you. “Just let it out… you’re gonna be okay… you’re not alone, ‘kay?”

You clutch at his jacket tightly, holding onto him like you’re drowning. Like you’re afraid he might be a dream after all. Might disappear from your grasp at any moment. Everything spills out of you, incoherent words bubbling from your wet lips. “Y-y-you’re alive- you’re alive- a-alive- I missed you so much, Dean- so so much-”

Beau can’t exactly make out the words that are tumbling from your mouth, but he can feel you shaking against him terribly. He quickly takes his big jacket off to drape it over you, to try and keep the rain and cold off you.

His heart tightens at the sight of your curled-up body, clinging to him while shivering badly and breaking apart in his arms. He slowly begins to speak again, a hint of an encouraging smile on his face, “Hey, ‘m gonna pick ya up. Ya ain’t gonna stand that cold and rain. Ya’ll get sick.” He then places his arms on your back and under your thighs, before lifting you up off the ground in one smooth motion.

He holds you close against his chest, wrapping his jacket over you for extra warmth. The rain patters against the concrete floor while his boots splash through the puddles, carrying you over to his truck.

You don’t protest as your body was giving in at this point. Like a run down shed in a storm.

Your fingers slowly going numb from the death grip, the wet and cold. You choke on your sobs while the tears keep rolling down your reddened cheeks.

But from joy.

You don’t know whether he is Dean or not. Whether this is real or you finally lost it.

But in this very moment you didn’t care.

You let yourself drift back to the happiest place in your mind. One you hadn’t dared to visit for many years. Locked up and keys buried along your husband. Deep down in your broken heart.

When you close your eyes and press the side of your face against his chest, you can hear his heart pounding. When he speaks, you hear Dean’s voice above you, soft and peaceful.

And you feel his body through the drenched pieces of clothings between you.

He feels warm. Warm.

A/N: it was meant to be a drabble IT WAS MEANT TO BE A DRABBLE

I'M NOT CRYIN'- OKAY FINE I'm still coping with his death - I haven't even watched it since I'm still catching up with the seasons. GAWD I HTE THIS - I JUST NEEDED CLOSURE DAMN IT

Anyway, I just had to get this story off my chest before next year. I don’t know yet whether it deserves more parts but do let me know if you think so!

Tags:

@aylacavebear

[sillyandquiteawkward]

Idk if you've been asked this before but do you have a ideas why Curly's hands and feet had to be amputated? I understand that his fingers would've been fucked to all hell... Maybe because he was in the front of the crash, considering the foam in the cockpit, the impact's recoil and being burnt alive (as seen in Jimmy's hallucination), it's a miracle he survived at all.

In the cryopod 20 years later or perhaps in the meantime, I hope Curly died a quick death somehow. It's what he deserves, but hauntingly unlikely.

at least for his hands, i imagine the foam ate them.

the foam covers the controls completely, so i assume his hands got encased in foam as he was trying to steer. and then you have the delusion from jimmy of the axe planted into curly's chair for the feast scene, so thats where my mind goes. gotta carve him out of the foam, and whats left of him is probably too weak to get yanked out (even in daisukes escape from the foam had a lot of yanking and struggling, with enough momentum needed that he took several steps to right himself after pulling out of it)

they said the cockpit had the worst damage, they were too scared to even go inside it for 2 months. so whatever they did to dislodge curly from the foam was fast and dirty. im not very knowledgeable with medical injuries and the realism of them, so i dont have much other than that.

i do think curly did catch on fire and get roughed around from the crash, so maybe those teamed up to cause the need to amputate his feet as well due to the dead tissue. doesnt seem like a good idea to keep necrotic tissue attached to your body, if it doesnt fall off on its own.

sadly im in the opinion that curly dies painfully slow and agonizingly after his 20 years is up. esp if you take how how fish is made/the last one and another ties into mouthwashing and if you consider that canon. thats a lot of time to sit there and Think about everything.