#it's the only way i can see my boy again...

[partiallysame]

I'm sorry if this is a weird request, I love your writing a lot and you bring me great comfort, and I've been binging ur stories after my ex cracked me in the face (enjoy jail Ryan)

how do you think poly 141 with a civilian s/o who comes home from work, not expecting them to be home from deployment, with a bloodied lip and black eye, a tear across her forehead that slowly oozes blood. Maybe her own knuckles are bruised and split from where she had fought off the two men who jumped her. Her pants were torn at the knees from where she grappled on the ground. Johnny's jean jacket he let her borrow was nowhere in sight left in dust as she ran for her life.

I love your writing again, I hope ur safe and please eat well and rest ❤️❤️ don't let anyone get away with putting their hands on you.

First and foremost fuck you Ryan rot in jail and hell bitch

The adrenaline had finally started to wear off as you pulled your car into the driveway, only to start to panic again when you realized your husband and your boys were home early. Like two weeks early. You sat in your car for a few moments trying to wipe the blood from your face, your hands, your knees, trying anything to look like what just happened didn’t actually happen. But the second your car pulled in they all made their way out, too excited to see their Missus to wait for her to come inside. Johnny was the first to reach the car, always so eager to see you. You sat still in your car. He tried to open the door but it was still locked. Crouching down to motion for you to open the door, maybe you were on the phone or something and that's why you hadn’t gotten out yet. But as he lowered himself to see you, only to be met with a nightmare sight. 

“Sweet’art open the door.” Voice serious in a way you had never heard before. His hand reached behind him to wave the rest of the men over, not wanting to yell for them and scare you more than you already seemed. You shook your head no. They weren’t supposed to see you like this. You were fine. You made it home, you were safe now, you were gonna fix up all your wounds and be healed before they got home. But here they were trying to coax you out of the car as tears streamed down your face. Fingers slowly pressing the unlock button, both the drivers and passenger side doors were swung open. Johnny reached over you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scooping you up out of the car. 

“Bring me my wife.” It was an order that MacTavish was not going to follow until you were pulled from his arms. “M’sorry’s” poured from your mouth between sobs as you clung to your husband and were brought into the house and set so gently on the kitchen counter, allowing the four men to get a full view of your beaten body. You sat, body shaking slightly from the adrenaline and pain that was starting to set in as they stared. Stared and the dark purple forming around your eye. Staring at the gash across your cheek and your split lip. Drops of blood on your torn shirt, jeans shredded at the knees, wet bloodied fabric stuck to the scrapes on your knees. They were all looking at you so differently. You thought your husband was going to cry, Johnny too. Kyle looked so broken. You had been working so hard for Simon to soften to open up to you and he was, but the look on his face scared you. 

Working in perfect unison the men started to undress you, removing your bloodied clothes. A first aid kit was set next to you as they each took a portion of you to care for. Apologizing when you’d wince at the pain of being cleaned up. Johnny was holding an ice pack up to your eye as Kyle took off his shirt for you to wear. None of them were willing to leave your side long enough to just grab new clothes from down the hall. Another “I’m sorry” fell from you and your husband felt like he was going to snap.

“My Love, please stop apologizing. It’s not yer fault honey. Can ya tell us what happened?” You nodded and recounted how two men had cornered you after work, wanting your purse. How they thought you weren’t handing it over fast enough. 

“But I’m a captain’s wife you know? Not just gonna take it lying down now am I? You should see the other guys.” You tried to joke and motioned to your split knuckles that Simon had so carefully wrapped up for you. 

“Where?” Simon’s voice came out harsh and the men snapped their heads toward him, a warning to calm down. (They’d find who did it later but rn the focus is on their Missus)

“I’m sorry Johnny.” You turned toward the large scot still holding the ice pack. He lowered it because he wanted you to see his face when he told you there was no reason to apologize.

“But I was wearing your jacket. You know the jean one you left for me. The one that smells like you. The one you look so handsome in. It came off and I left it there.” Your breathing picked up again, tears threatening to spill at losing his favorite jacket. You barely finished your confession when he was pulling you into his chest, strong arms feeling so warm and gentle around you.

“Don’ care about a fuckin’ jacket. You came home lovie. That's what I care about.”

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅺ)

hi everyone i am back and boy has there been some amazing fics posted while i was away it's awaken that spark in me again and this list is honestly packed, i went over like 60 fics for this one and i even added some of my ult. faves. the ones i have to mention again because they are just so amazing, trust me you will be going back for more over and over again too. you might notice some fics from ao3 and wattpad included as well they are hold a special place in my heart, they are masterpieces that need to be shared with you guys so please enjoy this new list and give all the authors mentioned all the love and respect they deserve seriously they work so hard on creating these beautiful fics and they deserve all the attention and gratitude we can offer them so please share your love through a like, comment and reblog them so they can feel the love and more people can find their masterlists and accounts because they have some really good fics there as well. I just wanna send an honourable mention to every single writer i have added to this list without you i would not have so much happiness when i come on this app and you have filled my heart and countless others with so much joy and happiness we appreciate you more than you will ever know and you make being here 10 times better your stories help us through alot and puts smiles on our faces and we get to spend time with a community of people who love what we love and we get to interact because of your ideas and it creates such an amazing experience so thank you for everything that you do the worlds you create and the ideas you come up and for sharing it all with us i adore you so much and you are just the best so once again thank you for everything and i look forward to what so many of you have planned - kiki ♡

NO MINORS ALLOWED PLEASE DON'T INTERACT!

happy reading everyone i hope you enjoy this extra long list of my faves and please remember to be happy and keep on smiling and interact if you want i love hearing from you guys and if you want you can send me a few of your faves 🥹🖤✨

f - fluff s-smut a - angst

series

lines of fate by @kookiestarlight s a exes au zombie apocalypses tattooist jk

⋆ the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

lost stars by @hueseok f a roommates e2l slow burn college au (33.2k)

⋆ the last person you’d expect to be there for you is your roommate, jeongguk, on the night you break up with your cheating boyfriend; because as far as you’re concerned, the both of you aren’t exactly friends, and he definitely shouldn’t be running to get you upon hearing you sob via phone call.so when he does, you begin thinking that maybe you’ve just been hard on him over the years, or perhaps he just liked pretending to be an annoying shit most of the time. either way, it becomes the beginning of an unexpected friendship finally blossoming.

a lovers kiss by @/hueseok f s a fwb i2l college au (55.6k)

⋆ a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course. and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

hell is empty by @aquagustd f s a ft.kth love triangle dadJK exJK CEO kth (164.4k)

⋆ life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.

to the stars by arckook (ao3) a zombie apocalypse (94.6k)

⋆ It was always you, and Jimin, and your best friend Jihyun. But fate, regardless of whether you believed in it or not, had other plans for you. Jimin told you once, "It's a tough road to the stars." Nowadays it was hard to believe the stars were somewhere you could reach.

moirai by norabean (ao3) f s a soulmates slow burn (95.2k)

⋆ On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

from home by @yuzukult f s a e2l richkid jk fakedating au (89.5k)

⋆ a rich kid who gets cut off from family money meets an average post-grad girl who may be the key to getting him back on his parents’ good side.

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. kth e2l love triangle tsundere jk s2l (103.k+)

⋆ it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung.

future hearts by @jungblue f s a ft. pjm punk jikook s2l band au f2l lost love (114.6k)

⋆ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

mind games by @yerion f a tsundere jk roommates au (31.8k)

⋆ jungkook drives you to think strict criticism isn’t too bad, purely because you didn’t expect things to turn a bit steamier than intended. as the one and only female esports player, misery was at your fingertip when your skills suddenly deteriorated. however, the stoic leader of your team—jungkook, simply couldn’t sit back. he puts you back on track, yet no one told you sparks would fly; and the crazy fact that it’s inevitable

heartbeat by @xbaepsae s a ft myg unrequited love (24.9k)

⋆ “You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.“

one year, my love by @hayjeon f s a historical/royal au 100 days my prince kdrama (31k)

⋆ You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year. 

the love prognosis by @awrkive f s a medical au roommates f2l (90.7k)

⋆ for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

ever a never after by @yoonia s ft. ksj enchanted au (51.8+k)

⋆ Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a fluffer au porn star au (74.6k)

⋆ as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard

Shatter With Me by @colormepurplex2 f s a surrogate au best friends husband (46.4k)

⋆ Your best friend, Jiyoon, and her husband, Jungkook, have faced years of hardship trying to start a family. In a last-ditch effort to have their dream life, they seek solace in surrogacy. Wanting to see your best friend smile, you offer to become the bright beacon at the end of the tunnel, giving them what they have always wanted. But what happens when you begin to shine your light on their darkness? Things aren’t always as they seem—happiness can be a façade, shattering under the lightest pressure.

Chasing Cars by @oddinary4bts f s a college au brother best friend forbidden love (218.5k)

⋆ when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

hold me close by @ahundredtimesover f s a brother best friend (41.8k)

⋆ When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though

sugar high by @yeojaa f a idol au childhood best friends unrequited love (33.3k)

⋆ You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

the law of attraction by @jexnkookie f s a lawyer jk girl of his dreams (26.9k)

⋆ Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

love bug by @here4kpopfics f s a established relationship (30.4k)

⋆ A collection of stories and drabbles with my comfort couple Jungkook and Love Bug as I affectionally call her. They were my first couple to write in over a decade and I hold them very close to my heart.

sh by @wwilloww f s a ot7 f2l (118k)

⋆ Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

bloodlines entwined by @spideyjimin f s a s2l soulmates werewolf au royalty au (30.8+)

⋆ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.  

jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien f s a bf2l fake dating (52k)

⋆ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

not in that way by @girlygguk f s a ft. myg unrequited love bf2l (30k)

⋆ in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

live through this by @starshapedkookie f s a band au exes to frenemies to lovers (46.5k)

⋆ A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.

a story that we paint by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft.kth college au scifi au (25k)

⋆ in which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.

crimson park by heartbeatan f s a e2l crime au(159.6k)

angel in the darkness by @icyhobi s a mafia au prostitution au

⋆ after a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named jeon jungkook.

one night stand by @buryhny f s a ceo au e2l (382k)

⋆ as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

the alpha omega series by @borathae f s a childhood best friends to enemies to lovers werewolf au (40.8k)

⋆ Jungkook is the son of the pack Alpha and therefore heir of the titel. You are an omega and utterly out of his league. This is the story of how, against all odds, you and he became true mates.

4-7-8 by @jiminrings a marriage au (73k+)

⋆ you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

netflix & chill by @1kook f s blindate collge au (113.7+)

 ⋆ If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

the bad blind date by ravsisrekt f s a idol au f2l (wattpad)

⋆ Being set up on a date is hard as it is. But being set up on a date where the boy you're with loves your best friend is even harder-and trust me, being bubbly, cute, and incredibly hilarious doesn't work on him either…but on the other members it certainly does.

sns by narcotichobi f s a idol au s2l (wattpad)

⋆ Jae is a twenty-one year old Korean-American university student whose life is just ordinary. Struggling through the confines of cultural differences between her lifestyle and ethnicity, Jae finds herself through social media outlets and the integration of k-pop into her American life. Jungkook is a twenty year old singer, dancer and producer of the Korean-Pop idol group, BTS (방탄소년단). He works over twelve hours a day and has almost every second of his life circulating around social media. Jungkook, with newly found dating privileges, is slow to trust another person with his personal life and thoughts. Follow Jae and Jungkook through a love-story heavily motivated by social media and press

40 weeks by magicalmochii f s a teeange pregnancy f2l (wattpad)

⋆ They didn't want to be virgins when they graduated. Two friends agree to let go of their innocence together, no strings attached. Life had other plans.

unconditionally by magicalmochii f s a parents au (wattpad) sequel to 40 weeks

⋆ They survived high school and overcame the obstacles that tried to break them apart. Together they adapt to college life and work, all while caring for their new baby. Now, two friends turned lovers prepare for their wedding. Life had other plans. The continuation of 40 Weeks. Bring tissues.

blood ink by pocketbangtan f s a gang au tattoo artist jk (wattpad)

⋆ "That's my tattoo, Y/N, on your body. You know exactly what that means."

one shot

wait for your love by @/spideyjimin f s a exes2lovers parents (17.3k)

⋆ sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

Inkling by @gguksgalaxy s a f2l tattoo artist jk (17.7k)

⋆Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

in this paradise by @ressjeon f s a s2l survivor au (16.3k)

⋆ in an attempt to escape what’s been planned for him, Jungkook hopped on a ship only to face a tragedy that he didn’t expect and then there’s you who somehow couldn’t believe to find company in this isolated land. was this fate or was this just a temporary chance of bliss as a challenge for you both?

sleepover by @personasintro f s best friends brother (10.4k)

⋆ Jungkook is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?

bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer f s a exes to lovers (4.6k)

⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

the devil’s change up by @/jungblue f s a coach au (41.3k)

⋆ Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

entertainer by @taegularities f s a s2l (32.4k)

⋆ Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

habits of a clandestine nature by @alphabetboyluvr s a college au rich jk e2l (16k)

explorer by @/1kook f s alien au s2f2l (17.8k)

⋆ Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

million dollar darling by @kooktrash f s a e2f2l crazy rixh asians inspired (19.7k)

⋆ jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a summer love suferjk (9.8k)

⋆ every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer. every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

the whole of your heart by @lcksndkys f s a husband au band au (8k)

⋆ Save a drum, bang a drummer.

sketch by @moonscriptsx f s soulmate au artist jk (9.6k)

⋆ After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to the face — and she's so much more than what he's dreamt of

strings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode f s spiderkook college au (11.8k)

⋆ You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

it was always you by @/hueseok f s a childhood best friends to lovers (13.2k)

⋆ for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.or at least, that’s what you think.

mio angelo by @/hueseok f s a mafia au established relationship (33.3k)

⋆ it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself. inspired by the godfather and vincenzo

ultimatum by @parkmuse f s spiderkook (10.3k)

⋆ Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

melomaniac by @jungkxook f s a band au f2l (13k)

⋆ you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.

Navigating Tides by @jjungkookislife f s a exes2lovers (18.9k)

⋆ A cruise is the last place you expect to see your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. You broke up six months ago, and your best friends Jimin and Yoongi assured you your ex wouldn't even remember this cruise that you booked a year in advance. However, on your first night on board, you discover your ex isn't only on the cruise ship, but there are no rooms available for him to stay in other than yours.

will it fit? by @jeonsweetpea f s idiots2lovers roommate au (6.7K)

⋆ So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

pull me down by @starryeyedkoo f a badboy gang college au (22.9k)

⋆ “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

espresso by @joonberriess f s a boxer jk idol oc (14.6k)

⋆ a rowdy boxer and the pretty it-girl he bagged by being him. jungkook’s doing anything to prove he’s serious, even if it means making a fool outta himself.

changes in between by @/taegularities f s a roommates s2f2l (24.7k)

⋆ Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

not my fault by @/taegularities f s college au classmates 2 lovers (12.6k)

⋆ After sparking a sinful conversation on a dating app, you vow to yourself that you won’t give in to more the notorious college fuckboy Jeon Jungkook might have to offer. That is, until he rings your doorbell just one night later – and it’s truly not your fault that he’s so damn hard to resist.

the secret beneath our stars by @subvk s a college au f2l (13.1k)

⋆ Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

mature by @/jiminrings f a pining f2l (8k)

⋆ alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

movie goers by @mi55delulu f s a e2f2l (16.4k)

⋆ starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

hopless hearts by @cupofteaguk f idol au s2l (17k)

⋆ you never understood the gravity of your position as an intern working Kcon until you fall for one of your favorite idols, Jeon Jungkook—quite literally too.

dissonance by @/yuzukult f s a rockstar jk student oc (19.4k)

⋆ something that first seems out of reach becomes a reality for him. screaming adoring fans, billboards with him and his band plastered on it, and touring across the globe with venues sold out. he has everything… but all he’s missing is you.

this is how we break by @ahundredtimesover f s a exes au (20.6k)

⋆ There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[justanotherchastittysissy]

i might have been a little tipsy when i wrote the draft for this and then spent way too many sober hours refining it...

i hate how he laughed. That smug, jeweled little genie, as he snapped his fingers he gave me exactly what i wished for.

To be fair, i had wished for it: i asked that genie to make me a hyper fertile bombshell of a woman, doomed to orgasm only when a man cums inside me, and the longer i go without a filling my cunt, the hornier i get. A twisted little countdown in my bloodstream, turning me into a savage, panting beast. 

And boy did the that genie deliver, nothing else works. Nothing. Fingers, toys, fantasies...all worthless teases.  i can't cum until a man orgasms deep inside me. That's when my eyes roll back. That's when my spine arches. That's when the wave crashes and smothers me in bliss...and for a brief minute i feel release and calm.

i thought it would be hot. i thought i'd be this fantasy bombshell, with a body programed to betray me. Sounded thrilling at first. But the reality is...so much more. 

i hold off as long as i can, until i shake with need when the hunger hits. i'm free to resist, right up to the moment i can't. i can't think. i can't function. Until i throw myself at some guy who's all too happy to oblige. It's always the same: they see a trembling mess who can barely keep her knees from buckling. And they love it. They tug me somewhere private, maybe a dingy bathroom stall or the backseat of a car. And we fuck, until i'm moaning and convulsing in shameful relief. Then they leave. They always do. 

For a few hours i'm ok. But that relief doesn't last. The heat creeps back, gnawing at me like an itch inside my lungs, inside my veins.

And because i know i'm hyper fertile, i figure there's no point fighting what i crave. i'm already knocked up, so day after day, i let them take me, fill me. Another wild climax i can't achieve on my own.

You'd think the craving would fade once i had a baby. That was my hope.

Spoiler: it doesn't. if anything, it gets stronger. My skin tingles, my breasts swell, and my womb all but screams for more. i grit my teeth, pretend i can stay away. Then i fold when the next wave of desperation robs me of reason. i peel off my clothes and let them fuck me, again, and again...because it's the only thing that saves me from my own maddening lust.

What can I say except that I blame the sims for this fetish of mine. I hope ya'll enjoy my incredibly self-indulgent animation~

[mattybsgroupie]

— talking matt through his first orgasm over the phone

★ requested by anon ★

“matt? are you there?” you asked when you noticed matt had suddenly gotten quiet, his hums and nods no longer being heard. “uh, yes yes i’m listening” he mumbled, but his voice sounded further away, as if he had placed his phone somewhere else. you could hear him shuffling around the sheets, his breath getting heavier as he expected you to continue talking.

“what are you doing?” you said in a low tone, hearing matt coughing. “n-nothing, i’m just— i’m getting ready to sleep, that’s all” matt answered, lowering his head against the pillow, trying to get more comfortable as he placed the phone on his own chest. you knew exactly what he was doing — but you needed to hear it from him. “are you touching yourself, matt?” you ask and he suddenly chokes, coughing in discomfort.

“answer. me.” you demand. he never heard you like that before, your voice still soft while spitting mean words. this only made his cock twitch inside his fist, a muffled moan coming from his parted lips. “you’re a naughty, naughty boy”

“‘m sorry!” matt managed to speak, raising his forearm and putting it across his face in a way to hide his lewd expression. he covered his eyes, thinking it was your hand wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking it. “i-i… i need you to keep talking, please”

“give me one good fucking reason, matt. one reason why i should keep talking while you jerk that tiny cock of yours” you hear a loud whine coming from the speaker, as if he was about to cry. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his desperation, wondering how flushed his cheeks would look. you knew he was dripping sweat, his long, slender fingers probably rubbing his slit as he pumped his length — and you were the only thing on his mind. “because” matt started, taking a deep breath. “because i never… never did this before”

“phone sex?” you ask, and he whines again. he was so frustrated. “no!” matt mumbled, a pout forming on his lips. “n-never… came”. you got startled at his confession, adjusting your position in bed, a smirk unwittingly forming on your lips. “you’ve never had an orgasm baby? is that what you’re telling me?”

you can’t see it, but matt nods. “call me that again, please” he pleads, small whimpers coming from the back of his throat. he wanted to be your baby. “aw, is that why you’re so whiny, baby? my little virgin boy never came? not even inside his pants?”

“h-have” he continues. you can now clearly hear the sound of his wetness taking over, the pre-cum oozing from his tip making his cock slippery. “but only… in dreams” matt confesses, causing you to smile at his innocence. “and then you wake up all sticky, baby?”

matt hums through the speaker, his whimpers turning into moans as he approached his high. “do you feel that thing on your tummy sweetie? that’s when you know you’re close” you instruct him, and matt instantly answers. “c-close” he says, not sure when to stop.

“so let it all out yeah?” you coo, feeling your own heat getting harder to ignore, the wetness from your pussy leaving a spot on your panties. “cum for me” was all you needed to say to hear matt’s cries, a loud groan taking over your earphones as he orgasmed for the first time. spams took over his body and his phone suddenly fell, his screen hitting against the wooden floor. you patiently waited as he recovered, chuckling when he got his phone back. “felt good?” you asked, knowing he was smiling on the other side. “you definitely gotta teach me more things”.

[sheaabuttaababyy]

Pixie cut - Jey Uso

Jey x Camilla

Smut 18+

Wiping her sweaty hands on her outfit. Camilla sighed nervously as she sat at the kitchen table, hearing the front door unlock.

"Ayyy baeee. I’m back" Josh yelled as he walked through the door with two grocery bags.

His and Camilla’s dog Rocky quickly came barking in excitement jumping on his leg. "Hey buddy" he made his way towards the kitchen, placing the grocery bags on the counter.

Camilla stood up waiting for Josh to notice her, as he began taking out the items from the bags. "Oooh I can’t wait, to make this good food" he rubbed his hands together smiling.

"Ahem" she let out a noise so he could turn around and acknowledge her.

"Oh shit I think I forgot the onion powder"

"Ahemmm" Camilla coughed again getting a little annoyed.

"Ahh never minds it’s right here." he laughed taking it out the bag.

"Joshua!"

"Yeah babe" he turned around his eyes widening as he stared at his girlfriend. Taking in her new look. He never knew a pixie cut could look so Damn good on someone.

All the way from her beautiful body and how her pants and tube top clung onto her curves. How her gold bracelets, necklaces and earrings went so nicely with her gorgeous brown glowing skin. And now here she was adding a pixie cut to the Damn mix.

"Oh shit"

"Good oh shit? Or bad oh shit?" She asked chewing on her acrylics.

He broke out his trance walking up to her "Nah good definitely good. Damn mama you look so sexy, shit."

She smiled slightly as he pulled her into his arms cuffing her ass gripping it. "So you like it?" She questioned wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Like? Hell nah. I love it. you look so pretty. Damn mama you really tryna kill me" he spoke kissing all over her face. She giggled trying to pull away, but that made him only hold on her tighter as he continued.

"Okay okay, Joshua we gotta make dinner" she said as Joshua’s kisses went towards her neck.

"Mmm girl what’s that?" He stopped his kissing. Leaning forward sniffing her neck inhaling her sweet vanilla scent. Before kissing all over her again.

"Oh my god. Babee enough we need to start the food" she mushed his head back. Seeing how his eyes were dark and filled with lust.

"Fuck the food. I wanna you eat you." Camilla giggled stepping away from him. She kept her eyes on Josh taking off her light teal zip up, pushing her chest out a bit as she did.

His eyes dropped down to her breasts that were covered with a white tube top. Her pierced nipples poking through the thin material. He noticed that she changed her nipple rings to heart shaped ones that matched her belly ring.

He rubbed both his hands down his face, rubbing his jaw feeling his already hard dick getting even harder. "You really are tryna kill me Cam"

She giggled walking to the counter "no I’m not papa. But if you behave maybe you can have me for dessert" bending down she grabbed her ankles giving her ass a little shake.

"Definitely having you for dessert" He slapped her ass making her squeal.

As the two of them were making the food. Camilla would constantly find Josh staring at her with lustful eyes. He would randomly come up touching and kissing on her.

"Josh can u pass me the salt" He grabbed the salt walking behind her purposely pressing up against her ass.

"Boy Stawppp" she smiled as Josh leaned down kissing her right shoulder in slow lovingly kisses.

"We’re never gonna have this dinner done, if you keep doing that" She pushed him back with her butt, snatching the salt from him.

He groaned and starting punching the air. He’s been hard ever since he saw her with that new cut. He needed her right now.

Grabbing Camilla’s phone he unlocked it going in her photos app. He knew she would have hella pictures. She always did when she switched up her hair.

"Gahh Damn" he bit his lip swiping through each photo. She looked too damn fine. Selecting them all he sent every single photo to himself. "Yeahh these pictures mine now" he whispered to himself smiling.

"Boy whatchu doing on my phone?"

"Nothing just changing the song" he closed her photos app opening Spotify.

"Mhmm…right" she looked at him suspiciously before going back to making the mac n cheese.

Finding the song he wanted he placed the phone back down. Walking back to his girlfriend he wrapped his arms around her, singing in her ear.

"Wooooooooo ooooooohhhhhh. wooo woo woo waaaa wooooooohh" Camilla laughed out loud at his attempt of singing the intro of Fortunate by Maxwell.

"Baby I love you but don’t ever do that again" she laughed placing a peck on his lips.

After Josh and Camilla finished making their food. They ate before cleaning up everything going to the living room to watch a movie.

Baby boy was playing on the TV as Camilla’s back was leaning against the arm of the couch. Her feet was placed in Josh’s lap as he’s rubbed them.

Feeling eyes on her she turned her head seeing Josh wasn’t paying any attention to the movie. His eyes were fully focused on her.

"What?" She asked feeling shy slightly.

"Come here" he grabbed her waist placing her in his lap. Making her straddle him as her arms immediately went around his neck.

"You said if I behaved I can have you for dessert" his hands gripped the front of her tube top before ripping it open in one quick motion making Camilla gasp. "And I behaved mama"

Josh leaned down capturing one of her pierced nipples in his mouth. "Fuckkk Josh"

Camilla took off his backwards cap throwing it to the side. Running her fingers through his hair.

He released her nipple with a popping sound. Switching to the other one, Humming around it.

Camilla slowly started moving against his bulge. That was pressing tightly against her crotch. Grabbing his face she pulled him into a kiss.

Their tongues clashed as they sloppily made out. Her hips moving faster against him as they Moaned in each other mouth.

Pulling away Camilla stopped her movements getting up. She peeled her pants off from her thick thighs, as Josh took his shirt off, Along with his pants.

He pulled her back on him. His hand going to her pussy. "Mhmm you already wet and ready for daddy?" His fingers up and down her slit, before pushing two fingers into her. "I’m always wet for you" she moaned out from the fingering she was receiving.

He retrieved his hand, bringing it up to his mouth tasting her sweet juices. He hummed at the taste of her before kissing her again.

Grabbing the base of his dick Camilla guided it to her wet entrance. The couple let out a moan as she sunk onto his thick dick.

She bounced up and down on him. Her titties jumping up and down In his face, Clapping sounds filling the room each time she brought herself back down.

"Shit Cam. Your pussy so fucking wet ma" Josh took both of his hands giving Camilla’s ass two hard slaps.

Gripping her ass, he planted his feet flat against the ground lowering his body on couch. Raising his hips up he thrusted into Cam hard.

Her body jolted forward, eyes rolling back as Joshua was hitting that spot inside her deliciously. "Oooooh yessss. Fuck me like that."

"Like this?" Joshua got a better grip on her ass, spreading her ass cheeks apart. Going deeper in her.

"Yess yess yess" she chanted feeling herself coming close.

"Shittt baby I’m bout to fill you up." He moaned out. His thrusts speeding up a bit.

Josh pulled Camilla into a bear hug. Her chest flushed against his as his. Arms wrapped tightly around her waist, nuzzling his face right into her neck. Letting out loud moans in her ear, nibbling it.

Camilla pulled her head back putting her forehead to Josh’s. "Come with me papa. Pleasee" she whispered against his lips. "Im witchu mama. Im right there witchu."

Her mouth went wide. A high pitch gasp leaving her mouth. She felt herself coming all over Josh as he filled her up with his hot cum.

The two were hugged up in eachother’s arms. Lips kissing, as they both came down from their highs.

Josh grabbed under Camilla’s thighs lifting her up off his dick. His cum spilled out leaving a slight trail across his chest as he raised her up to sit on his face.

"What you doin- ohhh fuck" Cam tossed her head back, feeling Josh’s warm tongue lapping up at her pussy. That was filled with the mix of their cum.

Finishing their multiple rounds of lovemaking. Camilla laid on Josh. Her sweaty naked body on top of his, with her eyes were closed. listening to the sound of his heartbeat, as Josh doing something on his phone.

Feeling the bright light from Josh’s phone screen she opened her eyes trying to peek at what he was doing.

"Girl don’t be all up in my phone. Nosy" he turned it slightly away from her, making a mug form on her face.

"Tell your side hoes you busy right now" she said playfully making him laugh.

"Nah nah. They know the scheduled." he replied smirking down at her.

"Your such an asshole" she smacked his chest as he kissed her temple pulling her closer into him.

He put his phone down as the sound of buzzing constantly came from his phone.

"The fuck did you post?" Camilla asked lifting her head up a bit.

"Ion know" he shrugged a slight grin on his face.

Grabbing her own phone she unlocked it seeing multiple notifications on insta. Opening the app she saw Josh tag her in a post.

Uceyjucey✔️

Liked by Romanreigns, Trinityfatu, Jonathanfatu and others

Uceyjucey✔️ I usually don’t like sharing my baby cause I want her all to myself, But she looked too good I had to show y’all how lucky I am to have @Camilla_Moore

Trinityfatu OMG THE HAIRR!?!?! IT LOOKS SO GOOD

Faithmariee61 I don’t usually like pixies but she suits it sooo well Liked by Uceyjucey

Jadecargill sis ate that 🤩

Usofan769 oop not him being possessive ion blame him though she’s fineeee

Yeet_fan HE POSTED HER???? AND SHES FINE WTF Liked by Uceyjucey

Kayla_heart Heart been broke so many times I-I don’t know what to believe

Uso-juceyfan replied to Kayla_heart same girl same

Tally099 She’s soo pretty congratulations Liked by UceyJucey

She scrolled through comments a little more before putting her phone down smiling at her man.

"Your so sweet papa. I love you" she kissed his lips as he tugged her closer. "I love you more baby"

🏷taglist: @usoinked @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @bloodlineslut @urbeez @luvrsluxe @trippinsorrows @catxo @whowrotethenote @uceyliyahh @adoreesun

[bluetooththereptile]

The original

(Yandere batman x male reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Idea from this post.

"Alfred, you never mention why the fourth bedroom is always locked" Dick commented as he helped chop vegetables, the young boy had yet to adjust to life in the large Manor and was curious about everything, the kid was too busy to notice the shoulders of the older man tensing at the mention of the locked bedroom, yet he didn't reply, maybe if he pretended to not hear what the boy had said he'd drop the question?- "I mean it's so random that a master bedroom on the second floor is locked out of nowhere" Well apparently the answer was a no.

Alfred sighed as his grip on the pan's handle tightened "You know, master Richard..." he started, his voice faltering as he looked at the sauce simmer "Sometimes we can not let go of the past" he continued, unsure how to explain this "Is it Bruce's parents bedroom?" Dick asked, now feeling rather awkward "No, it is not..." but before Dick could ask something else about the bedroom the old man quickly added "I will tell you in time"

"Thank you Alfred" You grunted softly as your trembling fingers flipped through the piles of papers before you, not turning back to see the older man put a warm cup of tea on your large desk. You sniffled, the clogged nose giving you a headache and your sore eyes throbbing as you sifted through the never-ending bank notices were no help. With a sigh you blew on your injured knuckles to soothe the ache in them, the ointment was making the wounds itch more, looking through the papers "Good lord, when will it end?" You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

"Give it some time master Y/N, you can not bear the calculations of everything when you are battling the flu right after a fight" Aflred spoke as he put his hand on your sore shoulder "Why don't you go and stay with your aunt? I'm sure master Bruce will appreciate the change of scenery, he needs it, you need it" after your parents death you two had become reclusive in your own ways, Bruce had locked himself up in his bedroom, and you had drowned yourself in work and fighting off criminals.

"I can't Alfred, not when the bank notices are pouring in, I need to save this sinking ship or we'll lose everything" Your frustration was evident as you drank the whole cup in one motion, not caring about the burn that slid down your throat "But if it helps I'll send Bruce to her, he can play with Elijah or his cousins" you waved your hand in the air, not looking back. "Master Y/N?" "Hmm?" You finally looked up to meet the butler in the eyes, taking in his worried gaze "What is it?" You asked again as you tapped your foot against the hard cold floor of the study that once belonged to your father.

"Master Bruce had the chance to ease himself by being vulnerable" the older man started "He cried and spent days in his bed holding your mother's blanket, and I can say he feels better after doing so, the initial grief has washed out of his system if only a little" "Well that is good news" your gaze went back to the papers "But what about you?" At hearing that you flinched.

"What do you mean by that?" You spoke, your hoarse sickly voice taking a sharper edge, you were more anxious these days and it didn't help that others could see your vulnerability. "You haven't been able to come to terms with your loss Master Y/N." You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose "Alfred please-" "No, listen to me for a moment Master Y/N, for the past year you haven't been able to sit down for a moment and take everything in, you only have been on the run from your own emotions-" "Alfred!" "Your parents died when you were away for college-" "I said-" "And now you come back to an empty home with a reclusive brother and a mountain of your parents' debt and their legacy barely keeping up" "You-" "You have been doing nothing but leaving late and coming back bloodied and bruised, God knows what you do at night!-" "I said stop it!-" "You are killing yourself like this!" "STOP!"

Frustrated, you stood up from your chair, the familiar sting of tears "Just let me be" Alfred sighed as he watched you storm out of the office, following the familiar route of your bedroom, slamming the door behind yourself only to slide down behind the door, looking to the corner where the bin of your bandages sat and let out a shaky sigh "What have I done to deserve this?" You mumbled to yourself, at 19, you were not even old enough to drink, and yet they had shoved the titanic legacy of the Wayne family in your arms, with the responsibility of caring for a traumatized child, with your parents being gone, it was too much, your body ached, your skull throbbed with each heartbeat, you hoped you'd die that night, or else you'd end things by the morning, "Someone help me..."

"So...Bruce had a brother?" Dick asked as he ate his food in the kitchen as Alfred skinned the apples he'd use for the night's apple pie. It was their routine when Bruce would leave for work on the weekends and with the dining room being too large for just a boy eating on his own, Dick had come to eat by the kitchen island, plus being with Alfred wasn't that bad either.

"Yes," Alfred replied with a nod as he moved the knife against the skin of the red apples in his grip "Oh so that explains the picture of the lanky tall teenager in the family photos..." Dick paused mid-chew before he asked, "What happened to him?" "We don't know" "Did he die or flee or-" "We don't know" "Oh..." Dick knew from that glare from the old man that he was treading on thin eyes. So he sipped on his orange juice to muster up more courage as he wetted his throat "Uh...how was he like?"

"He..." Alfred trailed off as he stopped using the knife, staring at the bowl of the dough, his gaze trailing to the towel on top of the resting pastry "He was an intelligent boy" "More than Bruce?" A soft sad chuckle left the butler "Bruce was more analytical than him, he...he was more of a hands-on matter person, I can say they were geniuses in their own ways, he was an aspiring engineering student, most of the structure of the cave beneath the Manor was designed by him"  "Wow" Alfred sighed as he continued "He was rather hot-headed, and sometimes needed guidance managing his emotions, but he was a very responsible person...Master Thomas was proud of having such a son..." his voice shook a little.

"Oh..." Dick looked outside the window as the birds flew by "Did Bruce love him?" "A lot, we all did" he sighed as he went back to skinning the browning apple's flesh "He was a lively boy, in fact, Master Bruce's interest in martial arts came from interacting with him for the first years of his life" the two of them fell into a charged silence, Dick wanted to ask more but he could not.

"You have changed haven't ya?" The old man smirked as he was pinned to the wall by the powerful dark hand of the dark knight himself, blood dripped from his nose as he chuckled, his gray eyes narrowing "When we first met your punches hurt more, maybe it's because of getting older or something?" Batman didn't reply as he held up the oldest thug of the group he had just tackled, usually, he would have knocked him out with a punch and retreated to shadows as the police would come to collect them but this one, this one had struck a very raw nerve that he had thought was left untouched for a long time "Eh? Maybe you changed places or something? I remember you were taller? I mean who forget the silhouette of the asshole that sent me to change 20 years ago?" He sneered before he scoffed "What you are going to do then? Lock me up for another 10 years or something?" But before he could taunt the dark knight again he was thrown onto the ground of the dark alley as Batman heard the sound of the sirens coming, meeting his fate in the hands of the police officers.

"A taller...more aggressive Batman..." Bruce mumbled to himself as he looked down the city as the never-dying stream of cars moved beneath his feet as he stood by the gargoyl of the building he was upon, his lips tight "Batman..." he repeated "Without robin" his gaze fell to his empty gloved hand, watching as the droplets of rain fell onto the material of it and slid down "Alone...", the sound of the old gramophone in his father's  study filled his ears from the depth of his memory, Chopin, it was, he could easily remember, the form of the young man humming to himself as he tapped his ruler on the desk while he looked at the details before him "Y/N..."

"Y/N-" "GET OUT!" Your pained shout startled Bruce as Alfred pushed your dislocated shoulder into place "Master Y/N, he only wants to help-" you turned to Alfred with a scowl "If he hadn't interfered none of this would have happened! I told you to stay inside the car, I told you to not come out! He could have killed you!" You slammed your fist on the table to stop yourself from yelping in pain as Alfred put the bone back into its socket, you were sure you were drawing blood from how much pressure you were applying on your lips, the coppery taste of blood was a testament to it.

"I told you to stay inside Bruce, you pleaded with me and I let you come, you were going to lock the doors from inside and stay PUT!" You hissed "Damn this bloody idea of Robin!" He turned to Alfred "You put this idea into his mind!" Your head snapped back towards the shrinking boy behind your cape on the table "I work alone, remember that Bruce, I don't need your help! The best you can do right now is study and don't cause trouble! Fuck! Why does it hurt so much?!"

You didn't know this moment was engraved inside the young Wayne's memory, the sheer helplessness, guilt, and frustration of it all, it all engraved into his mind.

"I think the scowl runs in the family" Jason teased with a chuckle before he shrugged carelessly when Damian scowled at him "Are you making fun of my uncle?" The boy crossed his arms "No, I'm making fun of you, Bruce and your uncle" Damian was about to punch Jason in the face when Tim finally looked up from his computer "Found it!" Everyone leaned in as Tim started speaking "Weirdly, I couldn't find an article on him since he was a Wayne and the media ate up anything related to families like that..." he hummed as he tapped his chin, before looking up at everyone who were curious about this revelation.

"I shouldn't have said that" Dick groaned as he paced around, already regretting the fact that he had told everyone about Bruce's older brother, which was a very sensitive topic for both Bruce and his butler, but he couldn't help himself, not when everyone was worried about Bruce being broody every year on this particular day, everyone knew when it came to the old bat's yearly anniversary of his parents' death he'd get broody and would be alone on his patrols, but it was strange for them why he'd be like this in this day as well, and Dick had opened his wide mouth and had told them about the lost Wayne and the original Batman, DAMMIT!

"So, basically we have a taller Bruce?" Stephanie shrugged as she checked out the picture in the old magazine article "No, actually, he seems different, I mean, sure the general Wayne scowl and stuff are there but..." "He seems of bad reputation" Duke continued Tim's explaining as he read the article "Unlike the image  Bruce portrays today, you know, the careless playboy, this one had a reputation for being a "snappy brat" Duke continued "I mean I'd snap at the paparazzi if I were him too" Jason shrugged "Oof there is even an account of him being charged with assault on a person when he had literally ripped the camera off of a journalist and had broken it" Duke winced "Like uncle like nephew" Jason sang which made Damian narrow his eyes. "But it seems he at least had a very good sense in buying stocks, 60 percent of the shares Wayne Corp now has had been bought by him" Tim hummed as he typed.

"But what happened to him?" Cassandra finally spoke, "No one knows, some people say he fled to an island like most bratty rich boys do that don't like to be in the eyes of the public, some say he died of overdose, and yada yada..." "That's strange...I mean, why doesn't Bruce speak about it though?" "I don't know...."

"Don't let me go!" You pleaded urgently as you tried to hold onto the hands of the young boy who had come to help you in one of your patrols, albeit let's be honest Bruce had snuck into your vehicle wearing a dark body suit, "I'm trying!" Bruce replied as he desperately held the hand of his brother, but his grip was weak compared to the powerful suctioning wind of the blue whirlpool of energy that had opened out of nowhere when a thug had thrown an ancient vase at them.

"Bruce!" You panted as you desperately tried to move to hold onto something else before suddenly a pole that had come out of its place swung in your direction with full force "Oh shit-!" You let go of Bruce's hand to save him before the pole hit you, rendering you unconscious. Bruce's scream of despair was lost through the commotion of everything happening, watching your bloodied face for the last time as your body went into the eye of the energy field before it died down. "Nooooo!" Bruce fell to his knees, without his family, in an alleyway, for the second time. 

"So you are telling me this artifact is actually an alien portal field?" Batman tapped his finger on his arm as he heard what the Martian Hunter was explaining about the remnants of the vase he had gathered decades ago. "Where did you find this Batman?" The alien asked the dark knight but received no reply as Batman contemplated something "You know how they work?" Batman asked "Well, I do not know myself, but I know someone who knows how these work, it's a very ancient method, not so many people use it"

So there was a way!

Tags:

@presleyamos @skullcrawler

[bratbarzal]

The Secret of Us (LH43) 1/3

aka the sequel to let it happen

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 21k (oops)

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

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

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

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

or would I???

I wouldn't 😌

OR WOULD I?!?!?!?! 😏

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

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

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

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

A football game.

You at a football game.

It’s absurd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because obviously Ellie isn’t the only one looking.

Jack is looking.

And Quinn is looking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw, babe, no-,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

What sort of friend does that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luke: can we talk?

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

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

You should be relieved. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But maybe that’s for the best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know-,”

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

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

“Why would they hate you?”

“Because of what happened with us,”

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

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

Apparently not.

“I didn’t tell them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can walk you back,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not to Luke.

You’re not coming.

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

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

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

God, he’s an idiot, he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wasn’t into him?

That wasn’t what you had said to Luke.

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

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

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

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

“You’re so unbelievably stupid.”

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

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

“I don’t-,”

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t ready! I thought she-,” 

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

“She said it didn’t matter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She hates me that much?”

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

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

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

He knows what he’d put his money on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a few seconds, a disc spins out.

Silver Linings Playbook, with Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s just trying to kiss up to Jack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said he was going back to Jersey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to kick her ass?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just one more minute.”

“You have to let me go.”

“Please, I just want to talk.”

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

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

“Please tell me the skirt is okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why would he assume that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe some mysteries are better left unsolved. 

He wasn’t in love with you.

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

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

God, why would you even play along?

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

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

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

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long until you’re playing again?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So either way you’re missing somebody?”

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

“Listen-,”

“Look-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It hurts to hear it, but he’s right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I also took the greyhound.”

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

“You watch too many movies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think I can do that again.”

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

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

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

“You really think we could be friends?”

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

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

“I’d like to try.”

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

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

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

You imagine that it’s slim.

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

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

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

“Can I think about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown.

Is he serious?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A couple?” 

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like it more than you ever thought you would.

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

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

Persistent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m obviously a lobster, Luke.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s just him for you, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not that heartless.

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

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

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

“It wasn’t on your Letterboxd.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about FaceTime?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s dark out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose then I’d carry you.”

This feels familiar.

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

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

Maybe it can be like this again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I don’t know-,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s no big deal-,”

“And for not letting me push you away.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And we won’t ever be more?”

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

And then, something shifts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should stop him. You know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A mistake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you can be friends.

What could possibly go wrong?

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

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 10

Added dividers because I felt like the time skip/scene change would become confusing without any indication of it.

I really need an answer on how y'all feel about Immortal x Dupli-kate cuz depending on the popular opinion stuff will change 🤐 I'm willing to split a lot of people up for the drama and/or miscommunication nonsense

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 10 >>next

Some place where the supernatural meets the normal, a little place called The Oblivion Bar, John Constantine simply sat shocked at the words he managed to hear and process through his mushed brain. Bobo closes his hung jaw, drinks his whiskey, and pats his friend’s shoulder as the man mumbles a sobering spell, cringing at the effects. “I should go. Good luck, John.” And so, the chimpanzee quickly makes his exit, leaving the Laughing Magician and Death of the Endless to their business.

“I need you to walk me through this again, luv- wasn’t quite paying attention.” Constantine shook his head as he fully turned to face the smiling entity. “You and who did what?!” He hissed, voice barely above a whisper as he tried not to bring attention to what they were saying. This was bad. Really bad.

“Lady Gotham and I took a liking to Batman’s youngest daughter and-“ John quickly interrupted her. “And gave her magical powers beyond my comprehension and immortality- yes, I heard that, did you?!” The man rubbed his face, the thought was making him want to get drunk until he dropped. ”Have you gone mad? Giving a mortal immortality is more of Dream’s style you should know better-“

Death only smiled at him, amusement filling her eyes as she gently laid a hand on his shoulder making him tense up. “She was lonely, she deserves every happiness those powers and eternity are bound to give her. You’ll understand once you see her.” And boy, did John laugh his gut out at that as he shook his finger. “No- no, no, no- there’s no way I insert myself into that mess- Bat’s family is already a mess and reeks of you without magic- No- There’s no way- that’s bonkers-“

Death gets up with a bright smile. “Thank you, John.” Her words make him stutter almost choking on his breath at the audacity. “Don’t thank me ya loon! I’m not going to help her, I’m not even going to see the moppet!” He can only yell and cuss as she leaves.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

 “Alright, Cecil-“ The old man immediately interrupted you, the little communication device in your ear buzzing with life as he told you to not use names. “… Dude… I’m miles in the air, first of all! Second, that was like a really common name once. it’ll take a while to find you specifically, and I doubt anyone could anyway- you seem like the type that would erase himself from the gov’s documents.”

“Anyway-“ You didn’t give him time to say anything else. “What house am I supposed to go to again? And why?”

The old man sighs at your antics, rubbing the side of his forehead as he feels the headache coming while he gives the address once more. “Your brother’s teacher, Mr. Hiles, has been the mall bomber. It took us a while, he was smart about it, kept his search into biological bomb-making off the internet but he wasn’t that thorough about his paper trail.”

“Be prepared for anything and a confrontation.” The older man cleared his throat. You always made him nervous; you were an unexpected equation in everything, something he couldn’t control without risking Earth. Donald and everyone else just took his weariness and suspicion as him being overly cautious, but Cecil could tell something was clinging to you that just gave him nightmares.

“And thank you- usually I would have sent someone from the Teen Team but…uh-“ His eyes followed the action on another screen. “They’re busy. Your brother and father are helping them.”

“You’re nervous. Yapping again. Chill, I’ll take care of it. Just because I don’t want to be your little puppet doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep people safe.” You found the man irritating, but for now, he was being sane, actually doing his job, so you couldn’t complain. “Getting closer to the target. Going dark.”  Was the only warning the man got before the com was powered off.

Finally ready to land you politely greeted the man, walking through the training both Cecil and Nolan provided at the start of your vigilantism. “I didn’t expect to get caught quite this early, and I certainly expected… more conventional authorities when the time did come.” Professor Hiles just sighs and welcomes you in by your birth name. “How did you-“

“Are you kidding me? Mark is unable to shut up about you. And you forget to wear your hood more times than you do wear it.” The man said as he took off his sweater. “Follow me, I’ll show you to the fourth missing student. I assure you, I have no intention of resisting.” Well… This was easier than expected.

As he started to confess about how he started doing this, he led you to his basement. “Mr. Hiles, while I understand the loss of a child to suicide, a divorce, and the loss of a job ruined you until you hit rock bottom, avenging your son like this-“

“I’m not avenging the death of my son. That would be far too cliché.” Your eyes landed on the teen strapped to the table once he turned on the light, breath hitching as you saw the skin of his arms merging sloppily with the metallic torso the professor modified. “It’s the destruction of my life that has me seeking revenge.”

“The domino effect of pain and sorrow that these monsters create. Children who spend too much time at the mall, attend parties, consume alcohol, and play sports when they should be studying and doing homework.”

“I understand your ire, I’m not one for parties or drunks, but not all kids who do that stuff go to extremes, that’s a flawed logic- it does not give you the right to play god and do-“ You tried to placate him, keeping your tone soft and even, to try and make him see reason. “What I did to all of them, turning them into living bombs, an instrument with which to exact my revenge… my crusade to end the pain and sorrow by these- ‘popular’ kids… I feel no guilt for.”

“I can’t think of a more appropriate end to my crusade-” Mr. Hiles ripped open the shirt he was wearing, revealing the same mechanism the unconscious teen had. “-than the death of a superhero!” You quickly acted, not letting him talk more beyond that as the timer set to 50 seconds started trickling down while you grabbed him, breaking through his ceilings and roof and flying high in the air.

“Is this really how you want to die? Suicide bomb? You still can make this right- you don’t have to die like this just tell me how to deactivate it!“ Your eyes remained on the clock. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen. The man just chuckled a dry, humorless laugh. “Do it. There is nothing for me anymore.” Five, four, three.

You couldn’t tell if what you felt was sorrow or shame, but you knew you were defeated. The man was going to get one final death, but it won’t be yours. As your flight came to a stop well above the clouds, you threw the man higher in front of you as the clock struck one second, and as it hit zero, the bomb detonated, the range and heat of the explosion destroying any remains while pushing you back a bit.

Your eyes remained on the cloud of smoke it created. If the cops found him before you did, the bomb would have wiped out the neighbors, too. That’s what hero life was, what it is. Sacrifices left and right that only made you feel more at odds with this job than before.

As you went back to the house, you activated the com, putting it back into your ear. Cecil immediately informs you that the police are en route as well as his clean-up team. “Get an explosive ordnance disposal technician, too. There is a teen in the basement, the bomb doesn’t seem active yet, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I’ll send a report of what happened soon.” You stayed until Cecil’s people showed up, just to be sure the boy was still breathing and that the bomb wouldn’t activate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Helping Brit and the other heroes clean up the rubble from the alien attack helped keep your mind off things. The Brit enjoyed talking about his kid and wife, yapping until he needed to take a breath and then starting again keeping a smile on your face.

You enjoyed helping clean up, especially when there were no casualties, today wasn't that type of day. But it had become the easy, relaxing part of the job, pick big rubble up, place it into the waste trucks, pick another piece up, make sure to not hit the man in the trench coat, put it in the waste- wait…

Your head snaps back to the man, squinting as your eyes meet. You each take a second to take each other in before your eyes widen in surprise. “Hello, luv. I’m-“ You couldn’t help your excitement as recognition finally settled into your brain. “I know you-“ Your words made John cringe and tense up. When others said that it never ended well for him. “You’re Johnny Con-Job, the lead singer for Mucous Membrane, dude, your band got me into the punk culture.”

That… wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of that or fight back the mental breakdown that was creeping up his spine. “You’re a bit young for that slop, no?” You just shrug. “Your songs got me to finally put myself first, to get the courage to sneak out, see other stuff beyond the walls of my first house, help others, and leave my neglectful family before they could seriously hurt me.” Her words worried him. John never took Bruce as the “lock his kids up” type, but the man was as paranoid as they came, he wouldn’t put that above him.

“It may be slop and shitty vocals, but it’s what I needed to hear.” You teased him while putting the rubble in the waste collector. He watched as you approached him with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. He could see what Death meant. “I need to talk to you. I’m not quite sure about what luv, but I think it’s about Batman-“ He didn’t get to finish, as soon as the name left his mouth, he was grabbed by the throat and lifted well above the clouds, way too close to the ozone layer. “Did he send you?” you hissed, giving his neck a warning squeeze.

Yup. He definitely saw what Death meant as your eyes glowed a Lazarus green. “Nno-“ He choked out. “Did Bruce Wayne send you?” her question was met with the same answer. Your grip softened, grabbing him by his coat instead of his neck as you brought him closer. “Then why are you here?”

“We need to talk in private…” He whispered as he realized the situation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This was a whole mess that John Constantine knew he should have stayed out of- he knew! From Bruce to the whole family basically ignoring the kid, not even telling her about the vigilantism, to the rogues taking her in and doing a better job of raising her to her running away and getting adopted by another hero- a hero that John knew wanted to conquer the world, the whole fucking race wanted to, the fucking demons had a problem with that and wouldn’t stop complaining to him like he can fix it- he takes a deep breath in. “Why are you telling me all of this?” He whined, rubbing his face as he sat on the edge of some skyscraper with you.

“I’m not hiding my past, I’ll happily snitch and tell a reporter that Bruce Wayne is a shit father, they all just assume I’m Nolan’s actual kid that was in the hospital for a deadly something or whatever.” You shrug. “Please don’t- not because I care about the bellend- I just don’t want to deal with… Huh. Now that I’m thinking about it, that may be great blackmail.” His words only made you snicker.

He didn’t know where to begin. Did she know about the Viltrumite? Was she in cahoots with him? Should he tell her any of that? Would she even believe his ass? Maybe he should get the JL involved...

The scruffy man shook his head. “Not why I’m here. You said your hero name is Sorceress? Great, so you know you have magic powers, that makes it easy-“ John took in your shocked expression. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, it never could be. “If this was another world, I’d call you crazy.” You told him simply. “But Midnight City is cursed, and I guess that makes sense… Is that why I can hear the shadows speak?”

John nodded before doing a double take, asking you to elaborate on the shadows speaking part.  “They just speak, whisper, giggle the whole thing. They can also emit what they feel. They’ve always been present, they’re not as strong here, but I think that’s because they’re more tied to Gotham and Midnight City… or just- where there is more darkness.”

“Well, you’re not far off there, love.” The man nodded in agreement as his eyes drifted to the dark dome around the cursed city. He knew where to start. “This is going to be a long explanation, you better strap in, hen, and let me finish before you ask questions.”

“You remember the painting and murals you made of gods and other entities, demons, angels, the whole sort, in Gotham and here? Yeah, they brought the attention to you from the entities you drew. Some of the moppets took them as a higher form of offering than others, a few of them decided to stick around you.”

“Those have also decided to- ‘bless’ you with a few gifts, I’m not sure of all of them, but I know specifically that Lady Gotham offered the shadows as a companion and protector, and I know that Death of the Endless has blessed you with… well, immortality.” There was no way of walking around that fact. “I don’t remember if any of these two also gave you your powers, I was quite sloshed, but someone did.” John looked at the kit, taking in her shocked expression before he nudged you a bit. “Come on, kid, say something. You got me all worried here.”

“It’s all just- a bit much.” You mumble. “Yeah, I get it. A lot for you to shoulder, but I’m sure you’ll power through- oh, thanks love… Wha- How-“ John’s eyes moved from the beer in his hands to the energy can you were looking at. You just shrug. "I wanted to know if I could, thought…” You narrow your eyes at the can in your hands. “I’m not sure if this is made out of thin air or just- teleported or something.”

Constantine just slowly looks back at his beer mug… She was taking this better than most. He hoped it was because the shock hadn’t worn off yet. Well, he’s had worse things in his mouth, he's sure, so with a shrug, he takes a sip, humming with delight at the taste, muttering something about this being real beer. “You’re here to help me, right? Like- with my powers… I- I think I need help with this whole worshipping gods and demons- entities- thing, too.”

He knew the easy way out would be to say no, to just leave, she had done just fine without him… But that isn’t what came out of his mouth. “Sure, poppet. Just keep on giving me this fine beer.” Given his track record with people and magic, he shouldn’t feel this accomplished at your happiness, but he was always quite selfish, so he returned your hug, even if he was a bit stiff.

“Now- usually the normal thing is to go from small stuff to big, teach the basics, but I’m not one for rules. Have you ever wanted to teleport via portals?” The big mischievous smile you gave him was all the answer he needed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You came home at the same time as Nolan and Mark, everyone’s first stop after greeting Debbie was their bedrooms to refresh themselves before going back to the dining area. “I’m going to be honest, Nolan, the longer hair and full beard fit you better than the silly mustache. Right, mom?” You couldn’t help the teasing as the whole family ate. Debbie looked at Nolan with a scrutinizing eye, before sighing and giving an amused smile. “I’ll definitely miss the beard.”

Mark snorted at the teasing as Nolan pouted, brows furrowing. “It’s not silly- it’s a rite of passage into manhood by the Viltrumite culture-“ you couldn’t help but interrupt. “It’s still a silly-looking mustache. What does the Viltrumite rite of passage for women look like?”

Nolan’s momentary displeasure at the mustache comment was overlooked as the inquiry about the Viltrumite women was brought forth. “Huh… I’m not sure, I never really paid attention to that. I think some cut their hair.” A puff of air escaped you in amusement before deciding to tease him some more. “Well, you clearly weren’t planning for a daughter that’s sure.”

Debbie just took in the chatter. She enjoyed the easy atmosphere, the laughter of her kids. “So, how was everyone’s day?” She asks once the chatter stops. “Oh, I met the Teen Team and helped them with the Flaxan attack, dad got kidnapped by them while I was trying to gather up survivors, made friends with Atom Eve, and met an alien called Allen who apparently got the wrong planet.” Mark shrugged.

“I spent the last eight months enslaved by an army from an alternative dimension, although it seems much less time has passed here. About a week ago, I led a revolt against my captors and regained control of my powers. Today, a team of scientists from the rebellion found a way to get me home.” Nolan lied as easily as he breathed.

“One of Mark’s teachers was turning his classmates into organic bombs in order to take revenge on kids he felt were like the ones who led his son to commit suicide. He turned himself into a bomb also and tried to take me out with him but clearly, it didn’t work in his favor. Helped clean up after the Flaxan mess, and met the lead singer of Mucous Membrane who apparently is a mage. He was here on behalf of Death herself to help me and tell me that my powers aren’t because I’m a meta, they’re magic. Oh, and also, I’m allegedly immortal.” You took a sip of water. “Lex also wants to know if anyone would be interested in attending one of his rich folk parties.”

At the quietness of the room, you lifted your eyes from your plate to look at everyone’s shocked glance. “What?” you ask with a mouth full of food.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That night, the teens wanted to sleep with their parents, both needing reassurance. Debbie and Mark were already gone, sleeping deep and peacefully. “Dad… You awake?” your question was whispered as your head lay on Deborah's shoulder. He answered with a warm hand squeezing your shoulder and a quiet hum. “...How do you move past people you can’t save or the people we have to sacrifice?”

Nolan wasn’t sure how to answer that, he’d never felt anything for the people he couldn’t save. He knew that if he had to save earth’s people or his kids and wife… Well… Earth can be populated again. “You look at the people who you did save. We can’t always save everyone, that’s the sad reality. It’s… painful. But it’s a truth all heroes have to come to terms with. Even I can’t save everyone.” Nolan wrapped his arms around his girls and son tighter, pulling everyone closer. “If all you could save was a person, you still did everything you could. If you couldn’t save anyone, you just have to keep your head high and try again.”

You snuggled closer into your mom, feeling her arm instinctively wrap around you as you draped yours over her and Nolan’s stomach, your fingers laying on Mark’s wrist. The sad reality of being a hero...

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

I'M REALLY SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEBODY- MY DOC SOMETIMES FORGETS TO SAVE AND I HAD TO READD PPL

[lqveharrington]

Family Tree | D.M.

summary: Eleven years after the second wizarding war, you find yourself making lifelong decisions on platform 9¾ once more.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: a LONG fic, daughter’s name is melody, talks about the war, abandonment, pregnancy, implied sex, cursing, hufflepuff slander (i’m a hufflepuff, i’m sorry), Pansy being a fun aunt & friend, teddy lupin mention being the coolest second cousin, melody is a mischievous child, teddy doesn’t like his god father, cursing, mainly angst with some fluff

a/n: i love him, your honor (he was truly my first love) this took way longer than i thought it would, so sorry 🙏

Years after you fought alongside Harry Potter to defend Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World from Voldemort’s wrath, you found yourself packing trunks for Hogwarts once more. However, the trunks you packed were no longer yours. They contained unhoused robes and new textbooks that weren’t marked with your doodles and annotations. The pet carrier didn’t hold your own owl, but instead your daughter’s snowy owl.

Eleven years old. It was finally time for your daughter to attend Hogwarts.

The entire morning — the entire week — she would go on about finally being able to learn the spells and charms that protected the witches and wizards from evil. Just like you.

When you held her hand tightly to enter platform 9¾, she would continue to talk about seeing all the ghosts and paintings that were mentioned in all your stories. Of course, you never told her all the adventures you endured. She didn’t need to know where the Room of Requirements was.

“—And Moaning Myrtle! Is she as annoying as you said she was? I hope she isn’t. I want to ask her so many questions about you—“

“Melody, my love, you can’t bother the ghosts all the time. Hogwarts is a school.” You run your fingers through her platinum blonde hair and smile playfully when she scrunched her nose at you. You dusted off her shoulders and tilted your head, “What?”

“But it’s a magical school, mum. Shouldn’t I be able to ask questions if I have any?” She challenged you with a raised brow, pushing your hand away and adjusting her perfect hair — much like her father. She always wanted to be absolutely flawless, even when presented in front of you.

Your heart clenched at how similar Melody was to her father. Her smile and her mannerisms were all the same. It felt like you were eleven again and meeting him for the first time. The only difference between him and Melody was her eyes. She was born with your eyes — the ones filled with so much emotion with every single look.

Glancing down at your watch, you sighed and cocked your head to the side, fixating your gaze on the train that once took you to a place where you found everything and everyone you loved. Where you found him.

“Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be back every chance I get.” Melody took your hand in hers and squeezed, noticing your far off look. Her thumb traced the silver ring you wore on your left hand. She never knew what the M stood for on your ring — she always assumed it was for her name.

“I promise I’ll send an owl every week.”

“I know you will.” You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before your eyes caught a book being dropped by a young boy — who looked an awful lot like Tonks and Remus. Shaking your head, you bent to pick the book up and handed it to your daughter. “Can you quickly run and hand this to that young man? But come straight back. I want to properly say goodbye before you leave me forever.”

Melody rolled her eyes at your antics, but nothing could hide the smile that came with it. She made swift steps over to the boy before he boarded the train, eyes widening curiously when he faced her. The boy’s hair turned a bright pink as he thanked her, a sheepish smile gracing his lips.

“Are you a Metamorphmagus?” Melody whispered in excitement and watched his hair turned an electric blue. Her grin widened, recalling what you told her a while ago. “My mum says my aunt was one!”

The boy finally took a good look at Melody, a light bulb going off in his head when he realized who he was talking to. He recognized her the Black Family tree back at 12 Grimmauld Place. He opened his mouth to ask her who she was when his friends pulled him into the train without a single glance to whoever he was talking to.

Melody furrowed her brows in confusion before huffing, perfectly styled hair whipping behind her as she left to find you before boarding the express herself. She thought all Hufflepuffs were supposed to be sweet, but these Hufflepuffs seemed to ignore her like she was nothing but an itty bitty fairy.

She hoped she wasn’t put into Hufflepuff.

“My mum was one of the hero’s at Hogwarts.” She muttered to herself and — once again — flicked a piece of her blonde hair behind her shoulder, narrowly avoiding a collision of trolleys to her left. “I’ll tell her all about this.”

Melody made a quick turn to where she last left you before slamming into someone, nearly toppling over from the sheer force. She caught the person’s arm and yanked herself back before she could fall on her arse, mentally cursing herself for not looking at her surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She muttered and dusted herself off from invisible dust, looking up at the person only to find a man staring at her with a shocked expression. Was he really that offended by it? He was an adult and she was merely eleven.

The man blinked before shaking his head, schooling his shocked expression to one of nonchalance instead. He looked around and tilted his head at the girl standing in front of him, examining her face like she was someone he recognized before. This girl reminded him of someone he used to know. Someone he used to love dearly.

Melody pursed her lips and rocked on the heel of her Mary Jane’s, avoiding his gaze. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with his staring, but she wasn’t comfortable either. Just as Melody was about to excuse herself from the man, she heard your familiar voice ring out, making her visibly relax despite your tone.

“Where were you? I told you to come straight back.” You rushed over to her and ran your fingers through her hair once more, unaware of your surroundings. You were so worried she had left before saying goodbye and it absolutely haunted you.

She looked back at the blonde man behind you for a split second before tilting her head down to the floor. Melody knew that you were waiting for an answer — she just had to suck up the embarrassment.

“I was coming to find you when I knocked into that man.” She gestured behind you and held back a whine when you tilted her head to check her for any cuts and bruises.

Melody made eye contact with the same person she knocked into again and hid her face in your jumper, hating that all the attention kept going back to her. She felt scrutinized under his gaze.

“Mum.”

You sigh softly and turn your attention to the man, still carding your fingers through Melody’s hair. You kept your eyes trained on her until she relaxed, finally looking up to meet the said person when years of memories hit you like a freight train.

“I’m so sorry about Melody. She usually isn’t this distracted — Draco?”

Your throat closed up at the sight of him — Draco Malfoy.

It was your Draco. The one who promised to love you his entire life; the one who promised to never leave your side; the one who left you alone with nothing but a broken heart and an unborn daughter.

Draco swallowed thickly and looked away. He felt horrible leaving you alone all these years, but he couldn’t figure out how to explain to you why he left so abruptly. Especially when you were about to drop your daughter — his daughter — off to Hogwarts.

Everything felt so overwhelming for the small family.

The whistling of the Hogwarts' Express immediately caught Melody's ears, her eyes widening at how little time she had left with you before departing for the next few months until holiday.

“Mum, the express is going to leave soon.” Melody’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, her small hand squeezing your ringed hand — which didn’t escape Draco’s gaze.

You cupped her face with both hands, kissing her forehead. This would be the first time you would be away from her for so long and you didn’t know if you could handle the separation.

“When you have time, send me an owl right away. Include your house in the parchment, alright? Be safe and make smart decisions.“ You instructed.

“I will.” She locked a pinky around yours before wrapping her arms around your neck, breathing in your familiar scent one last time. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.” You held her tightly and made the horrible mistake of meeting Draco’s eyes. You looked away faster than he could mark the emotion in your eyes. “Now get on that train before it leaves without you.”

Melody ran on the train and found a compartment occupied by a couple of other first years, smiling when you waved to her as the Hogwarts’ Express left platform 9¾.

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” Draco spoke and pushed his hair back — the initial shock finally settling in his chest.

You sigh and turn to face him, arms crossed over your chest. Although it had been years, the warmth from his gaze still filled you and you hated it. You hated that all the love you had for him was still stored away.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

He narrowed his eyes at your deflection but answered truthfully. He might as well begin with the truth before anything else.

“I’m the auror assigned to protect the wizards and witches at this platform.” Draco responded before glancing at his watch, frowning at the time it read back. “I’ll be back—“

You put your hand up and stopped his excuses, shaking your head and frowning. Pulling out your own wand, you pointed it at his chest and glared. You would never let yourself be fooled twice.

“That’s what you’re good at doing, Draco.” You tapped your wand on his chest, your heart screaming to stop but your mind blocked out every emotion you felt for him besides pure rage. “You’re good at leaving. That’s all I know about you, and that’s all Melody will ever know about her father.”

Draco’s hands clenched by his sides but made no effort to stop you. He could tell — your eyes betraying your every emotion — that you needed to reprimand him. He could see the way you wanted to scream and shout everything you kept bottled in your mind. Every single memory you had with him building up, ready to explode with any wrong move.

“Love—“

“You have no right.” You whisper at the nickname and shake your head at him, apparating away.

Melody watched in trepidation as first years were sorted into a house after Professor McGonagall read off their names from a long roll of parchment. Each and every one of them grinning brightly at the rest of the student body when the Sorting Hat screamed their respective houses out. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to be sorted.

After all, her mother blessed her with a last name that wouldn’t take ages to be called up.

“Bellemont, Melody!”

She beamed at the professors as she made her up onto the wooden stool, flicking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her shoulder as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head. Melody wasn’t sure what to expect when the hat fell, but she knew she would rather move to America than be sorted in Hufflepuff like that group of boys she met at the station. They were all rude except for the Metamorphmagus she held an actual conversation with.

“A Malfoy who isn’t a Malfoy.” The Sorting Hat murmured to itself — and knowingly — Melody. “Clearly, you haven’t been raised with the pureblooded status quo. Perhaps your mother’s doing… But you have your father’s confidence and pride…”

Melody’s face twisted in confusion at the hat’s words. Who was Malfoy? Was that her father? Maybe her grandmother’s previous last name? She didn’t understand the hat, and as if it read her mind — which it could — clarified for the young witch.

“Your father was a broken soul.” The hat tutted and swished around her head like it was revisiting old memories of her parents. “Your mother wormed her way into his heart until she mended him.”

She blinked and looked over at McGonagall, who merely smiled at her. Melody pursed her lips and looked out into the crowd, hoping to find any kind of familiar face. Unfortunately, all her aunts and uncles decided to have children only a few years ago.

Melody frowned as the hat continued to make random comments about her parents, ultimately boring her from the ceremony. She wasn’t sure what the hat was going on about you and her father, but she was sure to send an owl to you soon.

“Nevertheless, your father and mother were in the same house.” The Sorting Hat commented before shouting its decision for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. “SLYTHERIN!”

Melody gave the applauding hall a tight-lipped smile as she walked over to the Slytherin table, finding an empty seat beside an enthusiastic prefect. She was ecstatic to be in the same house as her mother, of course, but now only one thing circled her mind. She didn’t feel the need to ever know about this before. You were all she ever needed. Yet the Sorting Hat planted something in her head, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Who was her father? And who is Malfoy?

“I’ve been getting the same question back from Melody in every single letter. This is starting to get ridiculous.” You throw the recent letter you received from Melody on the kitchen counter, rubbing your face in frustration. “What the hell happened at Hogwarts for her to suddenly be interested in who her father is?”

On a normal day, Melody would never pester you about who her father was. Now, it felt like you got a letter everyday about who her father was. You weren’t sure what the best move was. Either way you went, everything would change drastically.

Pansy shrugged and read the letter, raising her brows at the perfect cursive that could rival Draco’s. “Maybe it’s time you should tell her. It’s been eleven years, and she’s old enough to know about him.“

You spun the stupid Malfoy ring on your finger and huffed. “It’s not about how old she is. I just don’t want her to know that Draco essentially abandoned her. Granted, he left before I could even tell him.” You glared at the silver ring. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull the piece of jewelry off. “Besides, she already met Draco. It’ll complicate the entire situation if I try to explain it now.”

“Wait — when did Melody meet Draco?” She furrowed her brows and sat up at the new information. Pansy squinted at your expression before gasping, nearly jumping out of her chair at the realization. “At the platform?”

“Yes.” You groan and bury your head in your hands. Even if you did want Melody to know about her father at some point, you didn’t want it to be like that. She doesn’t deserve such an abrupt change right before she hopped on the express for Hogwarts. “Melody bumped into him trying to find me.”

Pansy sighed and took your hands in hers, watching your reaction very closely. “It’s better that you tell her about Draco rather than someone else tell her. I don’t doubt you’ll make the right call about all of this, but please tell her sooner rather than later.” Pansy squeezed your hands and sent you a small smile.

You bit your bottom lip and glanced toward the moving photograph you hung on the wall. It was a picture of you, Pansy, and Blaise right before Draco’s final quidditch game. You were laughing at something Blaise said, but the photo only played that far into the memory before resetting.

Pansy caught your gaze and waved her wand over to the frame, changing the length of the moving photograph. Instead of you laughing at something Blaise said, you were pulling an unamused Draco to sit beside you for the photo.

Your heart clenched at the sight, finally giving into your daughter’s pleads.

“I’ll tell Melody when she comes home for the holidays. I don’t want her to find out via owl.” You sigh and wave your hand toward the photograph, setting it back to the way it was originally.

The photo was taunting you to look back over, but your fragile heart couldn’t take it anymore.

You could always tell yourself you wanted nothing to do with Draco, but everyone knew that you would run back if you found the perfect reason to. Maybe Melody was your perfect reason.

“Melody, wait!”

The girl turned to the sound of her name — blonde locks flawlessly following through — and her arms tightened around the textbooks she held. Out of all the people at Hogwarts, she least expected to see the boy from the train station jogging toward her. She looked behind him for his friends — if you could even call them friends — but it was just the boy. The Metamorphmagus boy.

“Yes?” She tilted her head and creased her eyebrows when his hair turned a horrid shade of green. The color made her feel uneasy, forcing her to wait until it faded back to its original state to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know your — er — name.”

The boy blinked before sticking his hand out, shaking her hand profusely. “I’m Teddy Lupin. I’m so sorry about my friends back on the express months ago. They found an unoccupied compartment and wanted to claim it before someone else took it.”

Melody slowly nodded and glanced at her leather watch, frowning when she realized she was already seconds late to a study session with a couple of first years she befriended. She pursed her lips and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Was that all you needed me for? I need to study for a charms exam.”

“Well — uhm — I don’t want you to not study, but I wanted to ask you if this was you. If it’s not, it looks scarily like you and has the exact same name. Except the last name matches my uncle’s — “

Melody barely processed the rest of his rambling as Teddy pulled out a photograph of a wall she couldn’t recognize. There were bits and pieces of the wall that were burnt and faces that were skeletons rather than perfectly painted — perfectly detailed — faces. It seemed like the wall went on forever until she glanced at the very bottom right.

Melody’s breath lodged in her throat as she read the last name painted beside her legal first name. Her eyes followed the family tree branch up to find — not her mother — but her father’s face painted on the wall. Although your face wasn’t painted, your name was still written underneath one—

“Draco Malfoy.” She whispered and looked up at Teddy with a shocked expression, hands gripping the photograph in confusion.

There was the last name the Sorting Hat kept muttering.

It was the same man she met at the platform months ago. The color of his hair — and the way you acted around him — should’ve been a dead giveaway that he was indeed her father. Melody shook her head and gave Teddy back the photo, determined to understand why you chose to hide this from her for so long.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me figure the rest of this out, would you?”

The wind breezing through platform 9¾ from the Hogwarts’ Express sent your hair flying through the air and your arms tightening around yourself. You were picking Melody up for the holidays and made the awful decision to not bring a stupid coat — thinking you could get out within minutes.

Silently cursing from how cold it was, you watch the students stream out of the train until you saw the platinum blonde hair you knew belonged to your daughter. Instantly, her eyes met yours and she ran. She ran until she knocked herself into your arms, nearly toppling the both of you over.

“Hi, mum.” She murmured into your neck and pulled herself impossibly closer. She tucked her chin in your shoulder, letting herself melt in your arms. “I missed you.”

You blinked away suppressed tears and kissed the side of her head. You didn’t realize how much you missed your sweet girl until she was in your arms again. “I missed you too, my love.”

You adjusted her Slytherin scarf — proudly, you might add — around her neck before pressing a kiss in her hair. You would make the most out of the two weeks you had with her if it was the last thing you did.

The commotion of the platform left the both of you unfazed as you went to grab her trunk from the express. You shrunk the trunk before tucking it away in your pocket, sending Melody a grin when she rolled her eyes at you. But as you went to leave the platform, Melody tugged you back in place with wide eyes.

You furrowed your brows and stared at her with a confused expression, hands ready to grab your wand in case she saw something that was potentially threatening. “What—?”

“Melody!” A boy ran over to your daughter and put a hand up as he took deep breaths, hair flashing many different colors before settling on purple. “I couldn’t find you after you left the compartment.”

You tilted your head at the sudden arrival of a boy before recognizing the face. You could recognize that face anywhere. After all, he was a spitting image of Remus and Tonks.

“Mum, this is Teddy Lupin.” Melody gestured to the tall boy and pushed up on her tippy toes to look past him, a small frown tugging at her lips.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Teddy.” You shake his hand and gently pull Melody back, eyeing her suspiciously before speaking to the young boy once more. “I haven’t seen you since you were an itty bitty baby.”

Teddy felt his heart kick up at the thought of you knowing him before now. You must’ve known him from when he was a mere baby. You probably knew his parents and who his parents were.

“You knew my parents?” He breathed with eyes shimmering with interest.

“Of course, I did. Your father taught me in my third year, and I absolutely adored your mother.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sighed, shaking away the thought of him being orphaned at such a young age. You would forever curse Voldemort for destroying so many families. “How are your studies going, Teddy? I heard—”

“Must we explain everything, mum?” Melody whined and interrupted your friendly demeanor. She didn’t want to stay at the platform any longer than you, but she needed to be here until he showed up, and she didn’t want to spend all that time listening to you being extra polite. It felt weird.

“Did you bring—?”

“He’s making his way over.” Teddy waved his hand in the air and rolled his eyes, slight annoyance filling them. Not because of her but because of his uncle.

He seemed to be taking his sweet time trying to find Teddy after he all but ran toward Melody the second he saw her blonde hair over crowds of reunited families. Although, he had to admit that his uncle was far better on time management than his god father. Harry Potter could save the entire wizarding world yet he still was late to all of Teddy’s milestones.

“He’s making his way through the crowds, although he was quite skeptic on why I suddenly asked him about dinner.”

You looked between the two and knitted your brows together. You knew Melody invited someone over for dinner, but you didn’t expect another person. So who was the other?

Before either of the two could speak, you interrupted with a stern tone. “Him who?”

“Ted, you can’t wander off and not tell me who we’re going to have dinner with — Oh, fuck me.” Draco caught up to his nephew, who he found standing beside the woman he loved all these years. He didn’t think running into you twice at the platform in one year would even be possible.

“Shit.” You mutter and quickly avert your eyes from staring at his disheveled figure, forcing your heart to steady itself.

Looking down at the two children, you crossed your arms and raised a brow. You couldn’t help but think the both of them planned it — and by the looks of their guilty faces — you knew you were right.

“What did you two do?”

Teddy folded before Melody could even utter a single syllable. He jabbed a finger in her direction as his hair turned a bright pink. “Melody did it.”

“Gee, thanks.” The said girl pushed his hand away from her face and met your questioning gaze. She knew she shouldn’t have surprised either of you, but she wanted the truth without you stepping on eggshells every single time. “Uhm…”

You tilted your head and waited for her to continue, feeling Draco’s looming presence right beside you. He was equally as confused by the ambush but was willing to listen to his daughter.

Melody nervously played with the ends of her hair before spilling everything, shutting her eyes tightly when she heard how selfish her plan truly was. If something horrible came out of this, it would’ve been her fault that you were upset and her father would never want to see her again.

“I just really want to know the truth! Teddy showed me the Black Family Tree a while ago and — well — I saw me on there connected to who I suppose my father is. And when I realized it was the same person we saw here, I knew I had to find a way to see him again. I want to know who my dad is, I want to really know him.”

Draco’s face twisted into surprise and looked over at Teddy for confirmation only to whip his head back to Melody.

“And your name was written underneath his, mum.”

Instinctively, you hid your left hand under your arm and bit the inside of your cheek. Though you weren’t officially married to Draco, his family signet indicated that you were promised to one another. Whether you decided to continue with the marriage or not wasn’t a controlling factor.

“You know he’s your father, what else is there to say?”

Melody peeled her eyes open and frowned. You were getting so defensive and she still didn’t know why you never told her about her father. Even Draco looked hurt by your words.

“Why did you never tell me?” She spoke softly — afraid that the only thing she’s ever known could fall apart in an instant. She loved you, but what you kept from her seemed so unfair.

“I promise I was going to tell you this week.” You matched her tone and pursed your lips when you saw her eyes swimming with sadness.

Melody shifted her attention to her father and crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with the same confidence he had at her age. “Did you come to the station on purpose?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, tucking his hands into his front pockets, fidgeting from habit. He hated confrontation. “No, I’m an auror stationed here when students head back to Hogwarts and come back.”

Melody looked to Teddy for confirmation — much like her father — and received a curt nod back, making her bite her lip in frustration. Neither of them was giving her the information she wanted needed. All she saw was the tension and the underlying love of two different people.

She wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, she could press on and continue bothering them. But on the other —

“I didn’t even know your mother was pregnant.”

You perked up at the mention and glared at the blonde, eyes filled with the same anger and disappointment he saw months ago. “And whose fault is that?”

“I’m sorry that I wanted to protect you.” Draco narrowed his eyes at you, his tone challenging yours.

Melody took a small step back. This wasn’t how she planned this to go, but this was more information she received than from the last eleven years.

“You made that decision yourself.” You whispered, voice cracking with hurt. The walls you carefully built around old memories chipped away as you recalled them all — each moment flashing in your mind. “I could’ve helped, Dray. Instead, you pushed me away like I was nothing.”

Draco furrowed his brows together and shook his head — you were always so stubborn and so correct. “You could’ve gotten killed—“

“I would have died to stay with you.” You instinctively grabbed his hand. “Do you know how long I waited? How long I used to stay up — wondering if you would ever come back?” The tears began to well up as you continued to speak, voice trembling and hands shaking.

Draco quietly listened and stared down at your ringed finger, his family signet shining for all the wizarding world to see. He promised to marry you — to take you away from the mess of the past.

Yet he still left.

“I was praying to whoever was out there for you to come find me.” You quietly spoke and finally dropped his hand. “You left me with nothing.”

The both of you stared at one another with unspoken apologies. No matter how long it’s been, you could still read him and he could still read you. To one another, it was like reading a childhood book that could be recited front to back.

After seconds of stiff silence, you turned back to Melody and Teddy — handing your daughter the miniature trunk and keys to your car. “Melody, take Teddy and wait in the car.”

“Mum—“

“Now.” You cut her off and watch her and Teddy leave the platform. Steadying your breathing once more, you looked back at Draco and twisted your ring. “Do you even have anything to say?”

He looked between your eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, voice small like the seventeen year old Death Eater he once was.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke with so much emotion you swore you could see the colors surrounding him. “I’m so sorry I left without saying anything.”

A noise threatened to leave your lips, but you made no effort to leave your position nor say anything.

“But I was vowed to follow my father’s footsteps by becoming a Death Eater.” He took your hand in his and traced the familiar lines across your palm, effectively calming him and you. “Waking up beside you brought me comfort in all the torture they made me endure. I knew you didn’t deserve to suffer with me, so I left.”

Draco watched your hand delicately hover his arm where the mark was, biting his tongue when you thumbed the space below — something you used to do back in sixth year when he got so overwhelmed with his mission.

“I can’t ever take back the day I decided to leave and never show up again, but I don’t regret it.”

You silently absorbed his words and sniffled — signs that were so clear to Draco about what was to come. He tilted his head down to meet your eyes again, giving you a weak smile.

“You raised an excellent daughter without me.” He tired to cheer you up but frowned when he saw the shimmer of a singular tear streak down your face.

“I needed you.” You frustratedly wipe your tear and look away, knowing that the vulnerability of your heart was completely at stake. “Dray, I was seventeen too.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of the both of you — so young and restrained by everything.

“I was pregnant and terrified. I didn’t know if I could even raise a child on my own.” You breathed and looked up at the glass roofing, pushing the rest of the tears away. “Imagine how different our life would be if you just stayed.”

Another tear escaped and — suddenly — your barriers crumbled. The mere thought of raising Melody on your own without Draco consumed your every being. And somehow — even with just you — she ended up exactly like her father.

“Yes, Melody is amazing, but I really needed you.”

Draco caught your eyes and instantly pulled you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin — refusing to let go of you ever again. His heart continued to break at your silent sobs, each sniffle and hiccup chiseling the crack that formed years ago.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and repeated it like a mantra, voice raw with so much sincerity. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m sorry.”

“I needed you, Draco.” You sobbed and breathed in his familiar scent as you buried your face in his chest. You gripped the lapels of his suit, eyes squeezed shut as if you were afraid he would disappear again. “For more than eleven years, I needed you.”

“I needed you too.” Draco whispered and tilted your head up, thumbing your streaked face. His heart ached from all the time he missed out on. “I’m sorry.”

It felt like ages before you pulled away from him. The only sounds that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and the hisses of the express. You took in a shaky breath and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jumper, mouth moving before your heart and mind could catch up.

“Would you still have dinner with us? I’m sure you’ve been here all day waiting for the arrival of the express.”

Finally listening to your own words, your freeze before slowly meeting his eyes. You were more shocked at yourself than his answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you and Melody.” He answered truthfully before waving his free hand around with the smallest smile on his face. “And Teddy.”

You match his expression and tilt your head to the right, wringing your hands together. “Maybe you could finally get to know Melody.”

Draco’s lips curled into a fully blown smile, his gray-blue eyes sparkling with delight at the idea of finally knowing his one and only daughter. “I would like that.”

“Me too.” You say softly and — for the first time in a long time — hide the rising warmth forming on your cheek.

Draco Malfoy. The biggest love and loss of your life.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[luckykiwiii101]

THE DEVIL DOESN’T WEAR SUBMISSION! SHE WEARS PRADA, OH!- AND NARCISSISM!

| | THE 411 ON HOW TO MANIFEST YOUR DREAM LIFE! | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི keep your head & heels high, and your middle finger higher ཋྀ

ཐི TABLE OF CONTENTS ཋྀ

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

p.s. psssst!! hey “void” worshippers, this is also for you. so read it. To everyone, take a day off to let all this information settle, it’s quite a lot!!

Welcome back Upper East Siders.

It’s often said that, no matter the truth, people see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out that they’ve been looking at the same big picture all along. Some people see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

But because you’ve fallen to submission, chances are that you’re blinded from the things that are right in-front of you. I’d call you legally blind but it’s a different type of law that you’re breaking.

Talk about secrets of the universe, but you’re living proof that knowledge doesn’t always mean wisdom, and that money can’t buy style, or class.

And if there’s one thing we all know about fashion, it’s that before putting an article of clothing on, you have to take one off, usually with the intention of putting another one back on. Or you’ll end up looking like a complete mess! or under your best friend’s BF! I hope S is taking notes…but even the biggest superstars need a stylist. And luckily for you, I have a friend who’s into fashion, and not just any fashion, high fashion, Little J, come out, come out wherever you are…

Oh wait! Almost lost track of my endless talents but i’m also great at fashion, and i’m simply just better. You can go back to crashing runways little J, and also just…running away.

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

First of all, I want you to know that all your dreams are possible and very easy. So this is for those doubtful upper east siders who forgot that the law of assumption is actually real, and not some joke made up by teenagers online.

Spend some time going through my law of assumption proof gallery to help clear your doubts in the law -> CLICK ME!

Now that you’ve boosted your faith in the law of assumption, of course you can believe 99%, but you’re going to have to fill that 1% on your own, through your own success.

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

Do you understand the law of assumption? -> CLICK ME

And do you understand who you actually are? Cause when someone asks, your only response should be “god”. -> CLICK ME

So how does “the void state” & “reality” work? In your favour, as usual -> CLICK ME

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

Spotted: Lonely boy’s rude awakening. Upper East Side Queens arent born at the top. They climb their way up in heels, no matter who they have to tread on to do it. Now what to wear with those heels…

Well, we hear narcissism’s in fashion, and rumour has it, she’s here to stay. But as I said before, putting a new outfit on requires taking the other off, and I ask disrespectfully, WHAT is that outfit!? You need a serious makeover! -> CLICK ME

A wise woman once said, the most dangerous enemies are the ones we never knew we had. And then there are those assumptions you never knew you held.

Now that you know why you kept failing previously, it’s time for your new self concept! And your permanent self concept. I promise, you’ll never fail again. You can’t do something impossible like failure. And since you understand the law and who you are (I AM) you know that failure simply isn’t possible.

What to wear? Failure? No. Narcissism. She looks much better on you anyway. Choose to wear the ugly outfit? Well I’ve got a friend on cyberspace who knows exactly what to do. And those flashes of clicked pics definitely aren’t coming from the paparazzi.

But I know, I know. “Narcissism” Isn’t that a bad thing? Not when it comes to being who you want. And all I mean is putting yourself on the highest pedestal. You’re going to completely fall in love with yourself, by becoming your desired self. That includes you void worshippers! Stop being submissive to the outer self. You dictate her, not the other way around. You’re going to be your desired self who has their dream life, no matter what. You’re above everyone and everything! Narcissistic, I like it.

First of all, remind yourself of what your dream life is and who you’re going to dedicate yourself to being. All good? Perfect! So here’s your new self concept & reminders to self -> CLICK ME

With this, what you’re going to do, is make your own personalised self concept guide. The one i’ve given you is only generalised to everyone’s use. I’ve given “directions” on where to add your own ideas, but don’t remove my ones because they’re extremely important and shouldn’t be ignored!! To make your own personalised self concept guide, just copy & paste the text on the template, and add your own ideas to your heart’s content, and decorate it to your liking & aesthetic. No harm in making it look pretty. Use pretty colours, pretty pics of your dream life etc. I recommend making yours on either notion, or tumblr. If you do end up making yours on tumblr, make it a private & pinned post so that you’ll see it on your front page and remember to come back to it. The only time you should ever open tumblr is to view your self concept guide or this post or the other ones i’ve made!!

Get into the state of being your desired self. Because that IS you. Embody your new self concept. Relish in it. Love it. You are going to fully immerse yourself into your new self concept. Finally, once and for all, be the real you. She’s been waiting for you.

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

A lot of upper east siders have been wondering. “What’s the right way to manifest?” Your way. Your way and only your way. Whatever you want is the right thing to do. You should already understand that from “enter the god state” post. That’s why it’s important that you personalise your own self concept guide!! YOU make the rules!

I hope you like the self concept template i’ve given you, and now you’re going to embody your dream self.

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

Need a wake up call? CLICK ME! They don’t call New York “the city that never sleeps” for nothing.

The purpose of the self concept guide and why it’s so important is to stop you from spiralling. Need guidance? Go back to the self concept guide and remind yourself of who you are.

Also, I have a post that really helps with spiralling. Come back to this every time you feel like spiralling -> CLICK ME

And don’t forget upper east siders, if you won’t do it out of love, do it out of spite. And you’re going to be bitch, at-least do it the right way. You’re the boss. The devil doesn’t wear submission, she wears prada, oh!- and narcissism. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Nurse

Sylus x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: pure fluff, nudity but nothing described, sick reader, flirty, soft boy Sylus, hinting at NSFW but nothing actually happens

----------------------------

“You need to strike harder than that kitten.” Sylus said as he blocked your punch.

You had felt off all day, tired and weak. The sweat running down your face didn’t feel cool and refreshing, it felt hot and sticky. You couldn’t catch your breath and you were slower than normal. “I’m done for today Sylus.” you said, holding your side as you walked over to your water bottle. Everything felt heavy in your body. Were the lights always this bright? Your mouth felt dry as you stumbled forward.

“Kitten?” Sylus said, walking towards you.

Your eyes fluttered as you felt your body go limp, dropping to the gym floor. You felt how cold it was against your scorching skin before you felt Sylus’ hands on you. You heard him calling your name but it sounded so far away and all that felt like a good idea right now was sleep. You let yourself slip into unconsciousness.

--------------------------------------

You woke up to the soft feel of cool silk sheets. Your head throbbed, you were thankful it was night and only a dim light illuminated the room. “Sylus?” you whispered, trying to see him through your blurry vision.

“Over here sweetie.” he said from the dim corner armchair. He set his book down, rounding the bed to sit next to you. He held the back of his hand to your forehead, you could feel how clammy your skin felt beneath it. “You have a fever.” he said.

“I feel like shit.” you sighed as you moved the covers to the side.

Sylus helped you sit up, “Come,” he said, holding your hand and tugging you towards the bathroom.

You followed him, the bathroom full of steam and the smell of roses. The bathtub was filled, bubbles and petals scattered the water. “Ever the romantic.” you smiled softly at him. Sylus always claimed he was not the affectionate kind but his actions always told otherwise. You let him help you out of your clothes before sinking down into the delicious warmth of the water. 

You watched as his fingers traced over the top of the water before sinking down to hold one of your hands. “Better?” he asked, his red eyes focusing on your relaxed face.

You hummed, “Better.” you let him play with your fingers below the water, he seemed to have a fixation with your hands. When you finally opened your eyes you couldn’t help but notice the frown on his lips. “What is it?” you said, slightly worried.

His face softened as he let out a sigh, “I was so worried when you fainted…” he admitted. You knew he struggled to vocalize his feelings, especially ones that made him “weak”. 

Your wet hand came to cradle his face which was resting on the rim of the tub, “I’m ok Sy,” you kissed his forehead, “you were there to make sure I was ok.” 

He smirked slightly, “I’m always there when you need me sweetie.” he flicked a bit of water at you, making you laugh.

“Don’t be mean I’m sick.” you said. 

Sylus held his hand to your forehead once again, “Your fever is breaking.” he said.

“Of course it is, look at who my nurse is.” you smile, “And since I’m no longer contagious I can do this.” you pulled him into a kiss. 

Sylus followed your lips until he was in the bath himself, his clothes soaked through but he couldn’t care less as he nipped your lip. “I don’t think that's how that works.” he breathed out as you two pulled away, needing air.

“By all means then, I don’t want to get you sick…” you said with a smirk rivaling his own as you pushed him back slightly.

Sylus hardly moved. He admired the way your body was caged beneath him in the tub, you were completely his. And as much as he wanted you, he could see the need for rest swimming in your eyes as whatever virus you had was slowly leaving you. He got out of the tub, taking his clothes off. 

Your eyes never got tired of feasting on him, he was the most perfect person you had ever seen. “Coming to finish what you started?” you asked.

“As much as I’d like that, you need to rest. Fully heal.” he said as he dried himself off and slipped some loose sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips.

“I thought my fever broke?” you said with a pout.

Sylus pulled the drain plug before he stood you up and wrapped you in a towel and carried you out of the bathroom. “Yes but that doesn’t mean your body is done fighting the virus.” he set you down on the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure I can’t change your mind? I’m feeling much better…” you said as you dropped your towel and pulled him between your legs by his waistband. 

His crimson eyes were bright and full of lust and for a moment, he wanted to give in. “You can go to bed now and if you’re completely better in the morning I promise you won’t leave this bed all day.” he said, leaning down to hold your face so he could give you a quick kiss. 

“Deal.” you smiled before throwing the blankets over your body. The cool silk caressing you in the best way, a sharp contrast from your still warm skin.

Sylus smirked at your answer before he got into bed with you, “Come here kitten,” he said, pulling you flush against him. “That's better.” he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

Your fingers locked with his as you held his hand to your chest, “Good night Sylus.” you yawned, already starting to drift off.

“Good night little love.” he mumbled, kissing your neck a few times before he felt your breathing even hout and your pulse steady beneath his lips. He tangled his legs with yours before falling asleep himself. 

He’d need all the rest he could get if he was going to live up to his promise tomorrow morning.

-----------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Sometimes I really wish this big mafia boss would just hold me then fuck me into next week hope ya'll enjoy love yaaaaaaa XOXOXOX

[sharky-teeth]

anyone looking for more wincest fic recs?? nobody?? okay here you go anyway. i have a bunch of fics i couldn't fit into the other list, so i needed to make a brand new one with more variety this time around. i organized it by wordcount to make things easier, however i rarely read long fics, so these are mostly pretty short. once again this list got way out of hand...

(for mature or explicit rating, you can assume it's [sometimes implied] bottom sam, or it isn't discussed. for bottom dean or versatile samdean, i made a small separate section of my favorites.)

1k~5k

Remember the Mountain Bed by nigeltde (G, 1k): post canon. sam and dean jr. one of the only fics that have ever made me cry and with only a thousand words! this one is so very dear to my heart, heartbreaking in its details, yet warm and soothing at the same time. just gorgeous.

Are You by lovetincture (G, 1k): one of my favorite gen fics. i adore second person POV and this is a great example of how it can maximize impact.

I Was the Dirty Little Boy (E, 1k): a quick weecest sparring session turning into spanking... you know. the good stuff.

Stealth Run by LaughableLament (E, 1k): late seasons + established relationship + possessive dean + slutty sam. i love this author a lot.

State of Mind by lovetincture (M, 2k): the summary goes "It's legal in the state of Ohio." yes it is as good as suggested. the tension in this fic mwahh

The Euphoria Emporium by Laughable_Lament (E, 2k): sam and dean visit a sex shop and dean gets jealous. quick and nasty.

Be Mine by De_Nugis (T, 2k): first part of a short series. for people who love silly, goofy samdean. this is no plot, pure crack. the kind that actually makes you laugh out loud.

Dating for Dummies by sevenfists (M, 3k): there's not enough first time aftermath fics. this has ruined me because it is the exact level of lighthearted i love, where the brothers continue being brothers first and foremost, even after boning.

We Are Drinking Beer at Noon on Tuesday by whirlpoolsleep (M, 3k): neat outsider POV. always love seeing the brothers through normal people's eyes.

With Mercy for the Greedy by whiskyandoldspice (E, 3k): unmatched weecest pwp. the amount of hits/kudos doesn't always mean quality but for this one it absolutely does. this is pretty much flawless in my eyes.

August 5th, 2001 by coricomile (M, 4k): established weecest! this was cute and tender with the right amount of angst surrounding sam's imminent departure. bittersweet ending.

Run It All Over by runawaydr3amer (E, 4k): first part of a series. the classic "brotherly handjobs" scenario, but it immediately stood out to me. really on point voices and hot amosphere.

Dean's palm would be rougher by FrancesHouseman (M, 4k): hand kink! i think we can all relate to sam here. this has a scene that's hotter than many pwps i've read lol

Know when to walk away and know when to run by deirdre_c (E, 4k): brothers playing strip poker goes too far... set in s3. great sexual tension and a super satisfying first time.

At Least It's Only One Song by ADeedWithoutaName (E, 4k): dean-gifting-sam-a-lap-dance fic. another outsider POV with an instantly likable OC. she can tell there's something off about those guys...

sticks and stones and weed and bones by aeroport_art (M, 5k): sam seeing a therapist at stanford. really great character study and winchester family dynamics. the conclusion to this story is just... crazy. so well done.

Shadows on the Sun by Linden (M, 5k): soft weecest first kiss! the thing i liked most in this story is how protective they both are. nice brotherly feelings.

wretched creation (M, 5k): one of my favorite reads of last year! criminally underrated work with less than a thousand hits. angsty feels and an unsettling atmosphere. dean facing a demon who knows more about his feelings toward his little brother than he'd like.

Forty-One by themegalosaurus (E, 5k): angsty unnegotiated kinky sex with lots of hell trauma. the kind of porn that's so nuanced and well written it doesn't get me horny (that's a compliment!)

Monumentally Stupid by strive2bhappy (5k): dean helps sam shave and it was hotter than i could ever imagine. great banter, tension, and emotional weight.

Double Solitaire by objectlesson (M, 5k): post mystery spot. amazing character study through a very creative concept. this is one of the authors who really knew how to write dysfunctional wincest.

6k~10k

this bullet inside me by missroserose (E, 6k): who's up for angsty first time in a long time? if you enjoy hathfrozen (i'm sure you do), this will definitely hit a similar spot.

Belonging by strive2bhappy (6k): wifey sam. i repeat Wifey Sam!!!

Lucky Streak by merle_p (M, 6k): thirsty pining done so right. incest that gives you butterflies in the stomach, believe it or not.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (E, 6k): nigeltde is an incredible writer. from beginning to end this fic is insane. angsty, desperate, emotional, shameful, this takes you on a rollercoaster of emotions. top notch characterization.

How it Works by Dyed_Red (M, 6k): this is probably in my top ten fics of all time, peak codependent, obsessive, dysfunctional samdean. this particular fic really nails their dynamic and the most delicious, fucked up aspects of it.

Taking to Give by Dyed_Red (M, 7k): lovely character study. this one is a bit softer than most Dyed_Red works, it offers an emotional view of sam and dean growing up. heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Wire Inside Me by merle_p (E, 7k): the sam-is-carrying-lucifer's-baby fic. this story is great for how it deals with the pregnancy pushing dean over the edge. the first time tension here is excellent!

Dean is badass. Sam has always known it. by FrancesHouseman (E, 7k): very interesting dynamic with sam and dean playing mind games to see who gives in first. i like this cocky sam a lot.

Hush Little Baby by hellhoundsprey (E, 7k): CNC weecest. sam and dean go to a haunted house and get up to some nasty freaky shit. it's even better than you can imagine. fyi there's dean in a clown costume.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (M, 7k): set in s6, the aftermath of sam getting his soul back through dean's POV. pure angst and overwhelming emotions, beautifully written, it hurt so good.

Man of Steel by glovered (T, 8k): THE lighthearted incest fic for me. along the lines of paxlux's 'Artery', at least to me. this borders on crack, a hilarious, feel-good story that always makes me smile when i think about it.

Disney Princess Hair by Dyed_Red (T, 8k): gencest/weirdcest in its best shape. sam as sleeping beauty! and obviously dean being very very very weird about handling the curse. i loved how this touched on the obsessive aspects of their relationship while keeping the tone light.

Architecture of Choice by Dyed_Red (E, 9k): yes another Dyed_Red work bc they're my favorite author. this one has one of my fave tropes (fuck or die) and it deals with sam's lack of bodily autonomy in a visceral way.

Pull over by jjtaylor (E, 9k): for my piss play enjoyers! this has lots of great tension and it goes way beyond kinky sex.

This Is All Very Meta by road_rhythm (E, 10k): loss of virginity roleplay fic. except it's sooo much more than that. i thought this would be fun and lighthearted, couldn't have been more wrong. the emotional depth delivered here caught me by surprise, but it shouldn't have, given the author. flawless characterization as usual.

God will forgive me but by sammyatstanford (E, 10k): weecest with lots of pining!sam and angsty yearning. brothers who need each other in sick, twisted ways. there was also a great amount of actual brotherly feelings, which is always a plus in my book.

>10k

Acid by Goshen (E, 12k): to this day one of the most insane things ever written. this fic is a classic, it's a surreal experience, a fever dream. dissecting the brotherfuckers, no stone left unturned.

Baby Blue by Edwardina (E, 13k): sam gets hit with a curse that makes him need to suck on a pacifier 24/7. it turned out to be way less sexual than i expected, this is for caretaker!dean lovers.

Learn to say the same thing by glovered (T, 14k): great case fic. sam and dean go to a single's retreat in the mountains for a case and eventually have to confront their incestuous feelings. every glovered fic just fills me with joy.

Supersize Me, Sammy by awabubbles (E, 16k): sadly one of the only size queen sam fics ever written, but it is absolutely perfect so i made my peace with that.

Only Natural (Be My Hands) (E, 17k): sam manages to break both his wrists so dean steps up to take care of his needs. and i mean all of his needs.

Relapse by ani_coolgirl (M, 21k): lebanon AU. i adore this fic, i'm in love with it, i think about it all the time and will think about it forever probably. everything here was done incredibly well, one of those fics that feel specifically made for me lol

Edges by glovered (M, 23k): amazing banter and lots of UST. set in stanford era but it's not really angsty. the tone was just perfect for me, this fic had me GIDDY.

Driving Down the Darkness by Nutkin (M, 39k): one of my faves in terms of Brotherly Feels. extremely well written and thoughtful, super slow burn. outstanding early seasons getting together fic that everyone should read.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (E, 46k): my favorite demon!dean fic. some of the wildest scenes i've ever read. pretty disturbing and incredibly delicious. if you're into fucked up consent stuff, this is a must read. it has a happy ending!

bottom dean and versatile samdean recs:

Take Backs by saltandbyrne (E, 2k): swesson + switching. hands down one of the best PWPs i've ever read, which was to be expected from saltandbyrne. it really doesn't get filthier than this.

How to Wear Polka Dots by homo_pink (M, 6k): swesson. this one is so so weird. and so charming. interesting and refreshing writing style, i had so much fun reading this.

Here's Your Future by autoschediastic (E, 7k): weecest with teasing!dean for a change. loved the power dynamics here, and the intensity throughout the whole fic. desperate, guilty first time, badwrong at its finest.

Enduring Love by oschun (E, 7k): really enjoyed the relationship study here, insightful and well written.

there will be better days by deadlybride (E, 9k): my favorite heaven fic! so warm and peaceful and emotional, full of love and longing and happy reunited soulmates. just thinking about this story makes my heart ache in the best way. really really beautiful.

Yeah, I'm a Back Door Man (E, 22k): established relationship. dean's hell trauma. this was a rollercoaster, great character study, good mix of angst and schmoop as well. probably the best bottom dean i've read so far (along with a couple Goshen works)

Yesterday, minnesota by Goshen: (E, 29k): speaking of applecrumbledore... this fic truly rewired my brain. the queen of "fucking for years without talking about it until one of them snaps". brilliantly executed, one of my favorite deans ever.

yay it's finally over! still i wish i had more long fics to rec lmao do check tags carefully before reading! enjoy the wincest goodness!

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 11 - flatline

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

after your day with rafe yesterday, the girls had so many questions and you told them everything, down to the song he wrote for you. what you didn't expect however, was that the song was going to be released in a few days time.

"i genuinely can't believe this," sarah started, "i mean him opening up to you? the commincation? the song? where is rafe and what have you done with him." she giggled.

"no y/n i don't think you understand the extent of this. like we've all been friends with rafe for a good 6 years, and i have never seen a girl have this affect on him before."

"guys stop you're making me think i'm some kind of miracle." you laughed with them.

"that's because you are a miracle." cleo joined in.

"so do you think you'll become official soon...?" sarah questioned.

"i don't know, the fans already think we are." you stated.

"the fans are fucking crazy. you'll get used to that i promise. when me and pope started dating everyone went bonkers over it." cleo reassured you.

"i guess so, it's okay i don't mind it, it's just getting used to seeing my face whenever i open twitter." you said. "whatever, we've got a flight to catch." you all finished your last minute packing and made your way into the car that was waiting for you outside the hotel.

part of you was sad to be leaving the state you had made so many memories in, but you knew heading back to new york all together was just the beginning for this new chapter for you and rafe.

once you made it to the airport, you found the rest of the boys who had left earlier as they all entered 'dad mode' and were getting stressed, john b to blame for that.

"finally you're here!" john b began as he saw you walk through the door.

"yeah thought we were gonna have to leave without you." pope said sarcastically.

"enough. we're here now aren't we?" cleo said rhetorically.

"yes ma'am" jj joined in, everyone was in agreement that cleo was the boss of the group.

you made your way to say hi to topper, who was slowly starting to become his usual self again, you assumed him and rafe had a conversation to try and clear the air.

but you eventually made it to rafe, who looked like his was patiently waiting his turn to get your attention, "hey you" he said.

"hey" you replied with a slight blush, "i didn't know you were actually going to release the song." you rushed out.

a look of concern took over him, "do you mind?" he asked worriedly.

"no! no i'm happy" you started, "but the fans are a little crazy."

"yeah i know they are and i should've warned you about that, but the best ones mean no harm and all you can try and do is ignore them." he replied.

"hard to ignore them when they're commenting on everything i post." you quietly said.

"i can say something if it really bothers you, okay?" he softly reached out to give your hand a squeeze.

"okay" you smiled at him, always putting you at ease.

"ok love birds pack it in," jj hollered "i don't think this plane is going to wait for us."

"whatever dude" rafe grinned, "ready?" he turned to you.

"ready."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: sorry guys i made this chapter a lot more smau, just as i had the idea to do the thread (which took me ages LAWD) and also wanted to get the song mentioned ! 5 points to anyone who knows the actual song and band🙈

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @popou61

[doppel-doodles]

A normal post a about Kevin Barnes from Poppy Playtime.

I genuinely feel so bad for Kevin…

Like that was a kid who clearly had a lot of issues from the start, instead of getting the help he needed all that happened was him being marked off as a „problem child“.

And then he was turned into a toy:/

Read more of my full thoughts and a sorta character analysis/ramblings below cut!

Like honestly no wonder he is seething if he wasn’t troubled before he definitely is now-

Obviously he has no trust in anyone, almost every adult he ever knew screwed him over in some way, hell even the kids he shares a body with would go against what he would do.

(Great example: When Doey chases us in his monster form, it's the arms of Matthew and Jack that are trying to keep his mouth from biting us, Kevin's are trying to grab for us.)

He was hurt over and over again, clearly he wasn’t aggressive just because he wanted to be but because this was his only way of making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

It was how he had a semblance of control, a sense of protection.

But of course the irony is: That coping mechanism brought him more pain, it was what got him killed.

Sure, maybe he could've just "calmed down", but why would he? He was hurt again, he lost everything AGAIN.

All because he listened to their judgement over his own. Kevin could've killed the player and Poppy on sight, clearly his emotions easily overpowered the other two, but he didn't.

Instead he agreed to trust them as well.

He was still willing to do that, surely if he were just a mindless monster he wouldn't be.

And you know what? I believe he blames himself just as much if not more for what happened than he blames us and Poppy and projects it tenfold.

Because maybe, JUST MAYBE-

If he didn't allow himself to trust again, then everyone would still be alive.

But he did...now see what that got him?

In his mind he's proven right.

So what's an emotionally unstable child to do? After being hurt AGAIN?

That's right.

He lashes out at the first thing he sees that had something to do with his pain:

Us.

Is he in the right? Hell nah- bro we didn't mean for that to happen! But do you seriously think this kid is thinking rationally right now??? NO! He is seeing red right now, he is in fight mode! All emotions and must I reiterate that the only way he knows how to express them is through anger and violence?

There is NO reasoning with wrath try as you might! And that hurts because yeah maybe you could've dealt with that if he was still a gradeschooler but he isn't! He is 900 pounds of living dough with a thirst for blood!

It's either our life or his now. And we already know what the outcome of that is.

Honestly I think it's better that we only hear Matthew and Jack apologise for what happened, I do not think Kevin would even if he did feel bad for what he had done.

Because why would someone who has been scorned so many times be vulnerable all of the sudden? When his main character trait is biting at those who bark at him?Why would all that rage suddenly disappear? If anything the stress of dying only causes him to lash out more.

You don't need an apology from him to feel bad for him.

He is hurting anyone with two eyes can see that and for what it's worth, I do believe deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was too late for him to see any other alternatives and even if he didn't and thought he was right for doing what he did it doesn't take away from the fact that he was fucked over by life.

Kevin is not the worst part of Doey, he is just a part of him.

And that part is not just a violent hunk of playdough.

It’s a scared, confused little boy that cared just as much about every toy in safe haven as his other two components did.

Because if he didn’t why would he get so angry about their death?

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk-

Also feel free to agree or disagree with my take, those are just my thoughts so let me hear yours, I like discussions:}

[jd-loves-fiction]

Sorry, two requests in one go but I NEED TO GET THIS OFF MY SYSTEM OR I FORGET

Same platonic dynamic with Boothill, Welt, Jing Yuan and Blade with reader who turned into a small child all of a sudden (around 2-3 years old, so toddler)

🌑 RAAHHH FEED ME (I couldnt resist the angst sowy :)) Also am I crazy or do they all give girl dad... they all feel like girl dad's to me, expect maybe Jing Yuan 😅

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Possibly the most experienced in this field actually???

Not to remind y'all of the absolute angst of his backstory, but he adopted a little kid in the past so... he's actually pretty knowledgeable when it comes to kids

Doesnt make this smooth sailing tho

Firstly, he's super confused on how this happened and how to undo it - spends so much time stressing about it that he almost forgets he has to take care of you now until you start screaming

Now that he's looking at you, oh you're so cute it should be illegal

Cuteness aggression to the max with the most self-restraint a man could possibly have (knowing he could easily seriously hurt you)

Once he accepts that his only option is waiting it out, he's focusing on making sure you're comfy

Surprisingly very in tune with your wants and needs

Overall, you'll be well taken care of with him, though the moment you're soundly asleep, memories of the past come back to haunt him, reminding him of all he lost

Though he reasons with himself that the past has passed and all he can do is keep going without letting it drag him down

And you're helping him do just that ❤️

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Utterly confounded

Mostly just curious

How did this happen? Do you still have your memories? Did your brain also revert back?

But he also cant deny how freaking cute you are🥺

Very gentle, holding you close, whispering softly even if you're screaming - makes you sleepy immediately

If you start screaming incoherently he's gonna have a hard time figuring out what you need but will try his best and remain calm the whole time

Does anything you want him to, literally

Want to play dolls? He's making a cute voice and everything. Want him to read to you? Putting on the softest tone known to man and putting you to sleep before you're through the first page

This also applies to food - whatever you want to eat, he's letting you, since he knows this situation must be pretty stressful and he doesnt want you start screaming at him :(

Once it's over he probably wont mention it again to you in case you think it's embarrassing, but will keep the sweet memory close to his heart - it makes him feel fuzzy to think he could take care of you when you're so vulnerable

Also you're just so damn cute, he cant get over it 😭

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Give him a second he's gonna have to laugh about this for a while

Decent experience with teens and older children because of Yanqing and other students he's trained, but toddlers?

No clue, he's so lost

Genuinely tries to apply lion cub logic

It's the closest experience he's had to raising a kid ok?! He's trying 🥺

Probably ends up getting yelled at by Yanqing because no, human children do not work in any way similarly to lion cubs >:(

After that he's trying a little harder

He's surrounded by people who know more than him on this so he's putting you on his hip and carrying you around while he asks them what to do

Comes back to his office after and puts you down, not realizing that you're crawling over to Mimi

Nearly has a heart attack once he does realize but it's all good, Mimi's a good boy and just naps while you play with his mane

He was honestly ready to use you as an excuse to not do this work and seeing you napping with Mimi just solidifies it for him

The next time Yanqing comes by to make sure you're ok, he finds you all cuddled up on Mimi, so he leaves with a fond sigh

Jing yuan was totally awake btw

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Oh sweet god he is not equipped for this AT ALL

Immediatly running to Kafka or Firefly for help (Silver Wolf is suddenly not so mysteriously absent) and they are somehow even less helpful than he is

Grumbling the whole time but does try his best to care for you

Does NOT know why you're screaming pls stop 😭

Has a surprising among of patience - he knows what children are like, so he's not blaming you for anything you do or losing it on you

He's good at keeping himself calm when the situation doesnt require him to lose his shit

Excels at... napping :)

Honest to god cant think of much else to do with you besides putting a sword in your hand, which both Kafka and Firefly scold for even thinking about

Cant really blame him, that's what his parents did and he turned out just fine :) (Note the sarcasm)

Something in his cold (literally) dead heart warms at the sight of you fumbling about and smiling sweetly at him

He never thought himself particularly inviting but he sure doesnt mind that you think so

The whole situation has him pondering his past but most of all, his humanity - what he lost of it and what he still has

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Into my arms

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Masterlist Word count: 773 Sylus x Reader

Summary: Sylus likes telling you about music. You like Sylus's voice.

Author's note: I felt like we all needed a tiny little bit of fluff after seeing those banners.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

He's been yapping for a while now. All the while, sweet sounds play from his record player. Every once in a while he gets up to put on a different record, but he seems to be sitting down a little closer to you each time.

Tension is rising, yet Sylus pretends he's unaffected. You are not pretending, you couldn't if you tried. It feels like your hands are itching to touch him, but you know this is important to him.

This is one of the ways he shows affection. He wants you to know what he likes and he wants input on what you like. His collection is extensive and strange. It goes from Tom Waits to The Beach Boys. From The Cure to Dolly Parton. From Metallica to Jim Croce. Surprisingly, he has something to tell about almost all of them.

He tells you about the differences between The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. About how The Beatles had a good boy image whilst being from rough backgrounds, while The Rolling Stones were from privileged lives and had a bad boy image. He tells you about David Bowie's album Lazarus, a testament to his own body failing and approaching death. He tells you about all the songs mentioned in Hozier's Sweet Music. And about how most people know Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds from the song Red Right Hand while he considers Into My Arms, a raw testament to love and believing in that deity only to ask it to bring his lover to him, a much better song.

Talks on and on about all these beautiful words strung together, about the instruments, about the quality of the recording. You love to listen to him. Love to hear him talk about these things that he seems so passionate about, but he has barely scratched the surface.

All the obscurer things he loves to listen to sneak their way into these moments every once in a while, but still he tends to go for love songs when you're around.

He sits down next to you after changing the record again and looks over into your tired eyes. The night owl that he is, he hadn't considered it is your bedtime already. 'Are you tired, sweetie? We can go to bed.'

You shake your head and position yourself onto his lap with one swift movement, your hands gently laying on his chest. Like two pieces of the puzzle, his hands slot against your hips as he looks up at you like he's looking into a fire. The forever changing warmth of your love enveloping him.

'Keep talking,' you tell him. He nods and starts talking about the record he just put on whilst his thumbs gently rub over the fabric of your bottoms. A song from Jim Croce that almost sounds like a lullaby. Time in a Bottle.

His words intertwine with the music like a baseline. You feel his voice rumble in his chest under your fingertips and move yourself closer to feel it in your own chest. Your arms wrap around him as you lean your head on his shoulder.

Slowly, the combination of sound and vibration lulls you closer and closer to sleep. Your mind gets carried on his sentences, gently floating around. Every once in a while, you hum to let him know you're still listening, but he can feel your breathing slow.

'Let's go to bed. I'm getting tired,' he states, more so for you than for him. But, truth be told, he has been sleeping exceptionally well ever since he's started sleeping in your arms. He stands up with you in his arms, clinging to his body like a koala.

'No,' you grumble, not really noticing he's gotten up, 'keep talking. I like hearing you talk.'

'Alright,' he agrees with a smile and he does.

As he carries you into the bedroom he tells you about all the love songs that remind him of you, all the lyrics that to him feel like they were written about you, all the guitar solos and music breaks in songs that make him feel like you are right there with him...

and he keeps talking until he snuggles up to you under the covers. He takes a few seconds to listen to your gentle breathing. He lays his head on your chest, the thumping of your heartbeat relaxing him like nothing else ever has. You have fallen asleep, and that seems the perfect time for a confession to him.

'But besides all of that, my favorite song is the sound of your voice when you greet me in the morning.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘